Read Online Too Close For Comfort by Eleanor Moran - Free Book Online Page B

Sarah died.’ Her voice dropped, thick with emotion. ‘I think it’s because I’d built my life around her, without even realising it. That’s what she was like
– she got under your skin in this incredible way without even trying. You couldn’t be half-hearted about her. I can’t imagine how you, her family, feel, but please know
we’re right there with you. We’ll never forget her either. We couldn’t – not even if we wanted to.’ Lysette paused a moment. ‘I’m scared of changing
without her, leaving her behind, but like you said, Joshua, she’ll always be a part of us.’ She looked to the coffin, tears overwhelming her now, poise collapsing. ‘We’ll
never leave you behind. We won’t . . .’
    Ged was out of his seat now, meeting her halfway down the aisle, gently leading her back as she collapsed into him, convulsing with sobs. The rest of the funeral passed in a blur, my hand
covering Lysette’s hot one, her tears never subsiding.
    Like I said, she was doing the job of two.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    It was the kind of house I’d have had to marry an oligarch to live in if I’d somehow managed to transport it back to London with me. It had Tudor beams, a huge
garden, a kitchen so cavernous you could fit mine and Patrick’s whole flat inside and have space left over. Even so, it was packed to the rafters, the noise and hubbub a contrast to the
pregnant hush of the church. It felt oddly celebratory, a collective exhalation of breath that had been held in too tightly all day. A few uniformed waiting staff slipped between tight bodies with
plates of sandwiches and bottles of wine, whilst Joshua moved between people with Max in tow, his Woody doll still clutched in his small hand.
    As soon as we squeezed our way into the middle of the living room, Lysette was grabbed by a group of people I didn’t know and didn’t feel ready to meet. I looked around. The room was
blandly chic – squishy oatmeal sofas, expensively off-white walls that whispered Farrow & Ball. Sarah jolted her way into my mind – the way she’d hugged me tightly like a
long-lost friend even though it was the first time we’d met, the mingled whiff of fags and Orbit gum. I would never have imagined that she’d stepped out of this hushed good taste. I
looked over at Lysette, already deep in conversation. Her beautiful words about Sarah had made her into a strange kind of star, and a petty bit of me didn’t want to be the almost best friend
who no one had even known existed until now. Helena waved at me from across the room, but I didn’t go over there either, just waved back and went in search of a bathroom for a pee I only half
needed. Jim had driven separately, but I knew he’d arrive soon: I needed a couple of minutes to practise being magnificent and imperious.
    ‘Have we met? You’re here with Lysette, right?’
    It was the auburn-haired woman, Lisa, if my hunch was correct. She was standing in the doorway of the living room, signalling to a group of late arrivers where they should leave their coats. Her
calm authority made me wonder if it had once been her family home – if it still held her energetic imprint, and cleaved to her will as soon as she stepped over the threshold. She wore a navy
coat dress with gold buttons running down the front, elegant in a way that would not yet suit me. Her skin was porcelain, lightly criss-crossed by age in a way that didn’t rob her of her
attractiveness but probably would’ve limited her options. I found myself increasingly obsessed by age these days – I couldn’t help it.
    ‘That’s right. I’m Mia. I’m her . . . her friend from London.’
    ‘Lisa. Thanks for coming. I’m sure she really appreciates it.’
    I could see Lysette from here, hands gesticulating like a puppeteer, only a shallow puddle of white wine left at the bottom of her glass. There was a controlled hysteria about her; relief like
rocket fuel, grief threatening to boomerang back and fell her