The Last Train Home

Chapter Fifty-Six

Goose pressed herself against me, stretching out and arching her back as I tickled her behind the ears. She sighed and nudged her head into my hand, demanding more scratches and attention from me. I complied and continued to scratch her ears but I didn't take my eyes off of a spot on the wall in front of me. If I looked to either the left or the right I would see Mum's face staring at me and that was too much.

In the few days since I had learned of Mum's death, I had done nothing but lay in bed and stare at the wall. Goose relished in me being inside so much and often spent her days pushed up against me, begging for attention. Jonathan and Barbara left me alone for the most part, occasionally popping their heads around the door to offer me something to eat. I always declined and spent the days nibbling on sweets from my birthday.

I hadn't cried, I hadn't screamed, I hadn't done anything I thought I was supposed to do when a loved one died. When my grandmother died, Mum couldn't even look at a carrot without crying, but I hadn't shed a single tear. Instead, I stayed in bed and stared at the wall, numb to all of it and ignoring the world around me. Lying there, I couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong with me because I didn't cry. A small voice at the back of my head asked whether I even loved her. I never said it the last time I saw her.

A small knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts and Goose perked up a little, peering over me to see who was standing in the doorway. I remained staring at the wall.

"Sybil? Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?" Jonathan's voice washed over me, but it sounded muffled and distant, as though he was speaking through a closed door, but I knew he wasn't.

"I'm sure."

"You know, you can't live off of lemon bonbons, no matter how hard you try."

I furrowed my eyebrows and rolled over, staring at him. "How'd you know about the bonbons?"

"The sugar shows up on Goose's fur. She had a handprint in sugar on her yesterday." He laughed.

"No, she didn't."

"You're right, I guessed and apparently guessed right." He stepped into my room. "At least you're saying more than two words to me."

"So you tricked me?"

"Think of it more as gentle persuasion, although I'm not above a good practical joke."

Jonathan laughed and crossed my room to sit on the edge of my bed, a plate of toast in his hand. I ate the toast but tried not to let on that I was hungry. He was right, I couldn't live off lemon bonbons and I was almost out of them after eating a few every day for four days. My stomach ultimately betrayed me and growled loudly at the smell of the toast and butter that had been smeared on it.

Upon hearing the growling of my stomach, Jonathan handed me the plate of toast and I sat up. Goose, also smelling the toast, sat up and stared at the plate, no doubt trying to work out how she could take it from me. I nibbled on the corner of the toast, savouring the flavour of the butter for more than I should have. Toast had never tasted as good before, but after nothing but lemon bonbons, I was sure anything would have been appetising.

I ate in silence, occasionally tearing off a small piece to throw at Goose so she would stop staring at me. Jonathan stayed perched on the edge of my bed, looking around the room and occasionally giving Goose a scratch. He didn't speak until I had finished eating.

"Well, that was progress. Half a piece of toast is better than lemon bonbons."

"I ate more than half."

"You gave a lot of it to Goose." He smiled. "I'm just glad you ate it; Barbara wanted to ask for the doctor since you weren't eating."

"I haven't had much of an appetite," I muttered.