Wendy Jones - By My Side

Wendy Lou Jones

A division of HarperCollins Publishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Wendy Lou Jones Wendy Lou Jones I was born and raised in West Sussex and moved to Birmingham to study Medicine at University, where I was lucky enough to meet my husband. We now live in a little village in Herefordshire with our two grubby boys. I discovered a love of writing not long after my youngest son started school. And if you were to ask me what it was that made me make the switch, I'd tell you quite simply, that it started with a dream. You can follow me on Twitter @WendyLouWriter.

Dedication For my mum, whose patience and love helped shape me into the person I am today. Blame her!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

About HarperImpulse

Copyright

About the Publisher

I was born and raised in West Sussex and moved to Birmingham to study Medicine at University, where I was lucky enough to meet my husband. We now live in a little village in Herefordshire with our two grubby boys. I discovered a love of writing not long after my youngest son started school. And if you were to ask me what it was that made me make the switch, I'd tell you quite simply, that it started with a dream.

You can follow me on Twitter @WendyLouWriter.

For my mum, whose patience and love helped shape me into the person I am today. Blame her!

The woman had heard the whispering; she had seen the furtive glances and listened to the hushed tones that faltered every time the girl looked up. She had looked into the mother’s face and seen the torment hiding there. She knew the story, the hurt that had been caused and the agony of loneliness felt by the girl. She knew, and that was why she was there.

Looking around the room, Lena could see huddles of faces talking quietly together, their eyes speaking loudly in their attempt to convey harsh rumour with subtlety. How could they think she wouldn’t have noticed? Their whispering would have been pointless about anything else. She sighed and looked over at the covered windows, deliberately screening the faces within from the harsh light of the bright summer's day.

Cards covered every surface. Flowers poured out their over-powering scent to all around them; oppressive, claustrophobic, smothering.

It had been nearly a month since Lena had tried to take her own life and now she was left empty, trapped under the weight of guilt and loneliness.

She looked at her ragged finger nails, worn down by the loss of her best friend and boyfriend in the same stupid affair. Of course, the two lovers had never stood a chance after she’d found them together. Their guilt had put paid to that. But for Lena it had all been too much, and in losing both of them she had also lost faith in herself and even life. Away at university, she had failed her end of year exams and one afternoon, had taken herself off and quietly swallowed a handful of tablets with a bottle of gin.

Her friend, for her sins, had been the one to find her, lying alone and unconscious in her student house.

Her mother had stuck by her every moment since that day. That was why Lena was there, at a stranger's house, for a funeral of a person she didn't even know. It was a funeral, for heaven’s sake; who in their right mind brought a depressed person to a funeral? Whoever it was, meant nothing to her, but her mum seemed to think she wasn’t safe to be left on her own. Maybe she wasn’t? Not anymore. She didn’t resent her mother for her loss of freedom; she had brought it on herself. But still, she would rather not have been there.

The doorbell rang and a friend of the grieving family walked sombrely over to answer it. Faces turned as another huddle, dressed in black, slipped inside to sip tea and join with the others in their attempts to meet the desolation in the family's gaze.

Through the gap in the door, bright light streamed in and Lena caught a quick glimpse of the dozens of beautiful wreaths laid out along the pathway of the small front garden, the vibrant colour basking in the warmth of the summer sun, and then it was gone.

A few minutes passed and the bell rang again. Caterers appeared. They were shown into the dining room and quietly started to set up.

No-one came near her. They were all too scared to try. So she stayed trapped in her cocoon, remote and afraid.

Gloria moved through the void that circled her daughter, her face trying hard not to reflect her despair. "Are you all right, Lee?" she asked laying a gentle hand on the side of Lena's head. Lena nodded. "It shouldn't be too long now," she said. "The cars are meant to be arriving shortly. I'm just helping out with the tea. Would you like to come and help me, or are you all right in here?"

Lena had looked into her mother’s eyes and seen the suffering there. "I'm fine," she said. She paused momentarily from picking her fingers to look up and then Gloria nodded and walked back to the kitchen, looking like the weight of the world was resting on her shoulders.

From beside her, a woman began to speak. Lena hadn’t even been aware that anyone had sat down there. She turned and looked at her, a young woman, probably in her thirties, dressed unusually for the day in a deep blue top and skirt and smiling warmly at her. Lena was a little unnerved by the woman’s arrival in her bubble. She turned back to her lap and continued picking at her fingers.

"You know, I could tell you a story about a woman who met the love of her life at a funeral," the woman said.

Lena looked back at her. "Sorry?"

"I said, I could tell you a story about a woman who met the love of her life at a funeral. If you like? Well, not at a funeral, but shortly after."

Lena's face turned back to her lap, she kept her eyes on her fingers, barely muttering an acknowledgement.

"You're Gloria's girl, aren't you? Lena, isn't it?"

Lena nodded and briefly met her gaze again with curiosity.

"We used to work together, your mother and I. A wonderful woman, isn't she? Always ready to help if you need her."

A barely noticeable nod was the only proof Lena was willing to offer that she was actually listening, but the woman did not seem to mind and she carried on.

"She was a bit like you, in a way."

Lena's eyebrows pulled together into a frown.

"The woman in my story. She'd lost her faith in love too. Hurt too deeply, I suppose," the woman said.

Wondering how painful this was going to be, Lena looked out around the room for distraction and then returned her gaze to her lap.

"Of course she didn't realise it at the time," the woman continued.

Lena let out a harsh breath, wishing the woman next to her would go away, but then she thought better of it, deciding it would at least pass the time, and so she asked, more politely, "Realise what?”

"That he was the love of her life," she said, infinitely patient with her.

The woman waited for a moment to see if Lena would look up and when she did the woman smiled. "Would you like to hear it?"

Lena weighed this up and then finding nothing better to do, she nodded. "Okay."

The woman laid a soft hand, as light as a feather, on Lena's right arm and began.

"It was a few years ago when it started,” she said. “The woman’s name was Kate and this story starts with her sat at her grandfather's funeral. She was only a few years older than you are now, and it was near the end of the service. You know? When the curtain comes round and that feeling of complete emptiness finally hits you…