Page 54

I sort through at least two bags carefully before I start to get bored. I dump the next one out into a big pile instead. That’s when I spot it, the one item amongst my clothes that is not mine. It’s a man’s white shirt, or more specifically my ex-boyfriend’s shirt.

I hold it up in front of me and just stare at it. I genuinely don’t know how I ended up packing it – I certainly didn’t intend to – and I really don’t have a clue what I should do with it. I’d burn it, if I had any sense.

‘Holding on to things like that won’t do you any good,’ my mum says from my bedroom doorway.

‘I didn’t mean to pack it,’ I insist, but this falls on deaf ears.

‘Dwelling on what happened with you-know-who isn’t going to help you get over him,’ she tells me. ‘It was wrong of him, to lead you on, pretending he was single like that, but you have to let it go. You have to let him go.’

‘I have,’ I tell her and, wow, I think I have. I haven’t thought about him in days – I don’t even remember what the last thought I had about him was.

‘Come on, let’s get something to eat,’ she suggests. ‘And a cup of tea.’

My mum drinks tea like her life depends on it. I think I’m getting more like her, in that respect, as I’m getting older.

I throw the shirt to one side.

‘I’d love that,’ I tell her.

Downstairs, I scan the kitchen for what I fancy to eat.

‘What can I make you?’ my mum asks brightly as I take a seat at the table.

‘I actually really fancy a mix of cereal,’ I reply. I really couldn’t think of anything better right now than my mum lovingly combining my favourite cereals to cheer me up.

‘Lia, I thought you were getting your life back on track,’ she replies. ‘Perhaps it’s time to eat just the one type of cereal, like an adult. It’s lunchtime, really. How about I heat us up some sausage rolls?’

I can’t help but laugh. I guess at least this means she thinks I’m doing better.

‘Go for it,’ I reply.

The doorbell rings.

‘I’ll get it,’ Mum says.

‘Well, while the sausage rolls are warming, I’ll go crack on with my sorting,’ I tell her.

‘No crying into that silly shirt,’ she calls up the stairs after me.

Starting as I mean to go on, I march into my old room, grab his shirt and throw it into the bin bag. Then I smile because, honestly, I really am over him. The only thing I want to do now is look forward. Of course, I should probably look backwards sometimes, because it’s only when I hear him gasp that I realise that Adam is standing behind me.

‘Oh my God,’ he blurts. ‘Is this the Leonardo DiCaprio suite?’

‘No, Josh Hartnett puts in an appearance too,’ I reply. ‘What are you doing in here?’

‘Your mum said you were up here, that I should tell you the sausage rolls will be ready in twenty minutes, and that I could stay for some if I wanted.’

‘Why?’ I blurt in disbelief.

‘I think she’s just being a good hostess,’ he says.

‘No, why are you here?’ I ask him.

‘Oh, I just came to see how you were,’ he tells me. ‘Or if you might need a hand. Si said you’d come here, to sort out your things, and I’m free today so…’

‘Do I even need to explain that this was my bedroom when I was very young, and that I just haven’t had the chance to take these down yet?’

‘You can try to explain,’ Adam says as he sits back on my bed and gazes up at the Leo poster on my ceiling, ‘but it won’t do any good.’