Me Before You: A Novel

then.’
    I walked out of the room, my heart thumping. From the safety of the kitchen I pulled out my mobile phone and thumped out a message to my sister.
This is awful. He hates me.
    The reply came back within seconds.
You have only been there an hour,
    you wuss! M & D really
    worried about money. Just get a grip
    & think of hourly rate. X
    I snapped my mobile phone shut, and blew out my cheeks. I went through the laundry basket in the bathroom, managing to raise a paltry quarter load of washing, and spent some minutes checking the instructions to the machine. I didn’t want to mis-programme it or do anything whichmight prompt Will or Mrs Traynor to look at me like I was stupid again. I started the washing machine and stood there, trying to work out what else I could legitimately do. I pulled the vacuum cleaner from the hall cupboard and ran it up and down the corridor and into the two bedrooms, thinking all the while that if my parents could see me they would have insisted on taking a commemorative photograph. The spare bedroom was almost empty, like a hotel room. I suspected Nathan did not stay over often. I thought I probably couldn’t blame him.
    I hesitated outside Will Traynor’s bedroom, then reasoned that it needed vacuuming just like anywhere else. There was a built-in shelf unit along one side, upon which sat around twenty framed photographs.
    As I vacuumed around the bed, I allowed myself a quick peek at them. There was a man bungee jumping from a cliff, his arms outstretched like a statue of Christ. There was a man who might have been Will in what looked like jungle, and him again in the midst of a group of drunken friends. The men wore bow ties and dinner jackets and had their arms around each other’s shoulders.
    There he was on a ski slope, beside a girl with dark glasses and long blonde hair. I stooped, to get a better view of him in his ski goggles. He was clean-shaven in the photograph, and even in the bright light his face had that expensive sheen to it that moneyed people get through going on holiday three times a year. He had broad, muscular shoulders visible even through his ski jacket. I put the photograph carefully back on the table and continued to vacuum around the back of the bed. Finally, I turned the vacuum cleaner off, and began to wind the cord up. As Ireached down to unplug it, I caught a movement in the corner of my eye and jumped, letting out a small shriek. Will Traynor was in the doorway, watching me.
    ‘Courchevel. Two and a half years ago.’
    I blushed. ‘I’m sorry. I was just –’
    ‘You were just looking at my photographs. Wondering how awful it must be to live like that and then turn into a cripple.’
    ‘No.’ I blushed even more furiously.
    ‘The rest of my photographs are in the bottom drawer if you find yourself overcome with curiosity again,’ he said.
    And then with a low hum the wheelchair turned to the right, and he disappeared.
    The morning sagged and decided to last for several years. I couldn’t remember the last time minutes and hours stretched so interminably. I tried to find as many jobs to occupy myself as I could, and went into the living room as seldom as possible, knowing I was being cowardly, but not really caring.
    At eleven I brought Will Traynor a beaker of water and his anti-spasm medication, as Nathan had requested. I placed the pill on his tongue and then offered him the beaker, as Nathan had instructed me. It was pale, opaque plastic, the kind of thing Thomas had used, except without Bob the Builder on the sides. He swallowed with some effort, and then signalled to me that I should leave him alone.
    I dusted some shelves that didn’t really need dusting, and contemplated cleaning some windows. Around me the annexe was silent, apart from the low hum of the television in the living room where he sat. I didn’t feelconfident enough to put on a music station in the kitchen. I had a feeling he would have something cutting to say about my choice in music.
    At twelve thirty, Nathan arrived, bringing with him the cold air of outside, and a raised eyebrow. ‘All okay?’ he said.
    I had rarely been so happy to see someone in my life. ‘Fine.’
    ‘Great. You can take a half-hour now. Me and Mr T have a few things we attend to at this point in the day.’
    I almost ran for my coat. I hadn’t planned on going out for lunch, but I was almost faint with relief at getting out of that house. I pulled up my collar, stuck my handbag on my