An Answer: A Death

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

“What happened to you last night? You never texted me back. I waited ages,” said Ady, she stopped whining long enough to wait for a reply, which Morgan dutifully mumbled as she settled on the stone wall.

“What’s with you Morgan?” said Gabriel, a little absent-mindedly, ruffling through a brown paper bag on his lap. To be quite honest, he could never understand the strange world of female relationships, but lunch—food? Food he understood.

Gabriel pulled out a burger wrapped in white paper and unwrapped it just enough for him to take a bite. The words tumbled out through moist, churned beef, “I mean you’ve been moody all day.”

Morgan breathed in, “Guys—”

“You’re disgusting,” said Ady, smacking Gabriel lightly on the shoulder.

Sebastian helped himself to as many of Morgan’s chips as he could before her hand slapped his away. Sebastian leaned forward, as if to tell a secret, and an arrogant confidence shone in his eyes, “Shh! Don’t you know?” he paused for dramatic effect, “it’s her time of the month.”

Ady rolled her eyes and dug into her bag of crisps, “Don’t be stupid.”

“Me, stupid?” asked Sebastian, one hand on his chest.

“Look guys,” said Morgan, “I’ve got to tell you something really important.”

But Sebastian was on a roll. “Just how important is really important?” he asked, stealing some crisps from Ady. She looked at him in irritation as he shoved them into his mouth.

“Do you ever bring your own food?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, “Sebastian, shut up.”

“Hey! I’m providing her with a service,” said Sebastian importantly, he turned to Ady and poked her in the stomach, “you should really—”

“Guys!” Everyone turned to look at Morgan. “My parents’ have split up. My dad’s gone.” And that was it, there was no going back. Her words had become solid and real; they were reality. Her parents would divorce, she would never see her dad again and he would probably marry a twenty-five year old bartender called Barbara. Barbara! Her parents as she had known them: a pair, a team, were now dead. They were each one: a signal unit. Family didn’t exist anymore.

Tears welled in her eyes and Morgan broke down. The tears streamed down from her eyes and her sorrow choked her: “He’s gone.”

“Oh, love I’m so sorry!” said Ady brushing her lunch from her lap. She slipped her petite frame off the wall and hugged her friend. Relaxing her grip, Ady looked at Morgan’s wet eyes. The pain of the betrayal was fresh and dull, and the life had left them. “When’d you find out?” 

Morgan wiped at her tears aggressively, “last night.” 

The pieces slipped into place in Ady’s mind and her pretty face crumpled. Tightening, the hug she repeated her apologies. When Ady let go again, Morgan’s supply of tears had been exhausted and she was left with a false sense of peace that was just able to sedate her sorrow.

Gabriel in his deliberate, sluggish way sprang into action. He got up smothered her in a bear hug. How could you not love someone like Gabriel? He radiated brotherly love and all that was good and fair in our society. Très agreeable. “Sorry,” he said releasing her. A reassuring hand rested on her shoulder, and with his eyes he asked a sincere question, that made Morgan smile and comforted them both.  

“Morgan I’m sorry,” Sebastian said, foul, coarse lines of guilt had become etched upon his face, and he shook his long hair from eyes, so that she could see his sincerity. “I…I didn’t know.” 

“It’s okay,” said Morgan, but the corners of her mouth slipped a fraction.

“C’mon guys,” said Gabriel, crumpling the remnants of his lunch into a little paper ball, “we’re going to be late.” 

Quickly they gathered their lunch things, so that when they left all that remained was Ady’s bag of crisps, caught in a nearby bush. Treading slowly, they made their way back to school in their own little private bubble: the two girls in the centre leaning into each other and the boys on either side, shuffling along.

Cars bumbled down the old, cobbled road beside them, and they were surrounded by the noise of the cars, of the noisy, busy people streaming to and fro, and of the shout of words, sentences, thoughts unvoiced.