Me Before You: A Novel

and saucer on her knee. ‘He’s a singular person, Will. From the time he hit adolescence, I always had to fight the feeling that in his eyes I had somehow done something wrong. I’ve never been quite sure what it was.’ She tried to laugh, but it wasn’t really a laugh at all, glancing briefly at me and then looking away.
    I pretended to sip my coffee, even though there was nothing in my cup.
    ‘Do you get on well with your mother, Louisa?’
    ‘Yes,’ I said, then added, ‘it’s my sister who drives me nuts.’
    Mrs Traynor gazed out of the windows, to where her precious garden had begun to bloom, its blossoms a pale and tasteful melding of pinks, mauves and blues.
    ‘We have just two and a half months.’ She spoke without turning her head.
    I put my coffee cup on the table. I did it carefully, so that it didn’t clatter. ‘I’m doing my best, Mrs Traynor.’
    ‘I know, Louisa.’ She nodded.
    I let myself out.
    Leo McInerney died on 22 May, in the anonymous room of a flat in Switzerland, wearing his favourite football shirt, with both his parents at his side. His younger brother refused to come, but issued a statement saying that no one could have been more loved, or more supported than his brother. Leo drank the milky solution of lethal barbiturate at 3.47pm and his parents said that within minutes he was in what appeared to be a deep sleep. He was pronounced dead at a little after four o’clock that afternoonby an observer who had witnessed the whole thing, alongside a video camera there to forestall any suggestion of wrongdoing.
    ‘He looked at peace,’ his mother was quoted as saying. ‘It’s the only thing I can hold on to.’
    She and Leo’s father had been interviewed three times by police and faced the threat of prosecution. Hate mail had been posted to their house. She looked almost twenty years older than her given age. And yet, there was something else in her expression when she spoke; something that, alongside the grief and the anger and the anxiety and exhaustion, told of a deep, deep relief.
    ‘He finally looked like Leo again.’

15
    ‘So come on, then, Clark. What exciting events have you got planned for this evening?’
    We were in the garden. Nathan was doing Will’s physio, gently moving his knees up and down towards his chest, while Will lay on a blanket, his face turned to the sun, his arms spread out as though he was sunbathing. I sat on the grass alongside them and ate my sandwiches. I rarely went out at lunchtime any more.
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Curiosity. I’m interested in how you spend your time when you’re not here.’
    ‘Well … tonight it’s a quick bout of advanced martial arts, then a helicopter is flying me to Monte Carlo for supper. And then I might take in a cocktail in Cannes on the way home. If you look up at around – ooh – around 2am, I’ll give you a wave on my way over,’ I said. I peeled the two sides of my sandwich apart, checking the filling. ‘I’m probably finishing my book.’
    Will glanced up at Nathan. ‘Tenner,’ he said, grinning.
    Nathan reached into his pocket. ‘Every time,’ he said.
    I stared at them. ‘Every time what?’ I said, as Nathan put the money into Will’s hand.
    ‘He said you’d be reading a book. I said you’d be watching telly. He always wins.’
    My sandwich stilled at my lips. ‘Always? You’ve been betting on how boring my life is?’
    ‘That’s not a word we would use,’ Will said. The faintly guilty look in his eyes told me otherwise.
    I sat up straight. ‘Let me get this straight. You two are betting actual money that on a Friday night I would either be at home reading a book or watching television?’
    ‘No,’ said Will. ‘I had each way on you seeing Running Man down at the track.’
    Nathan released Will’s leg. He pulled Will’s arm straight and began massaging it from the wrist up.
    ‘What if I said I was actually doing something completely different?’
    ‘But you never do,’ Nathan said.
    ‘Actually, I’ll have that.’ I plucked the tenner from Will’s hand. ‘Because tonight you’re wrong.’
    ‘You said you were going to read your book!’ he protested.
    ‘Now I have this,’ I said, brandishing the ten-pound note. ‘I’ll be going to the pictures. So there. Law of unintended consequences, or whatever it is you call it.’
    I stood up, pocketed the money, and shoved the remains of my lunch into its brown paper bag. I was smiling as I walked away from them but,