All the Little Things by Sarah Lawton (the best books to read txt) 📕

around me. He was so tall that my head fit into the dip beneath his collarbone and he held me silently as I wept, one hand tentatively stroking my hair. I let him do it for a minute, breathed in his scent, before I gently pulled away; it felt inappropriate, I barely knew him.

‘I’m sorry. I think I’m going to have to go and get my daughter from school or something, I’m not sure; I need to call them. Can we pick up the lesson another time, I don’t know – I’m so sorry.’ I repeated myself and wiped my cheeks and he looked at me with his sea-storm eyes, his face taut with concern, with shock, something.

‘It’s fine,’ he said quietly, reaching out to cup my shoulder and squeeze it gently. ‘I’m so sorry, too. I know what it’s like to lose someone too soon. I feel awful for his family. I hope your daughter is okay.’ He turned away and gathered up the things he was using and took them back into the house. I stood there, useless for a long while, still unable to take in what I’d just heard, before I walked into the house too. Alex had gone already, but I noticed that he had washed up the mugs and the palettes from the painting, and his small kindness touched me.

I picked up the phone and dialled the school number. Mrs Brondsbury the school receptionist picked up after several rings, and I could hear from her voice that she’d been crying. Not wanting to upset her further – it was such a small school, she must have got to know them all so well, watched them grow – I quickly explained that I’d heard the bad news and I wanted to know what they were planning to do, if they were going to tell the kids or send them home.

‘We’re going to pull them into an assembly in an hour,’ she replied, tears in her words. ‘We’ll have to tell them, and we’ll offer to get them in with the school counsellor if they need it. This is so awful, I’ve known that boy since he was a naughty wee scrap. We’ll let them go home early if they want to, afterwards. Was Vivian close to him?’

‘I don’t think so, not recently,’ I replied, ‘but she’s very close to Tilly, and he would give them lifts to school and whatnot. It’s going to hurt, I’m sure. So I should just wait here?’

‘Yes. Just wait there, she’ll be home.’

Vivian

Tilly’s dad came in to school and took her out of our classroom.

‘What’s going on?’ Molly whispers to me, as the teacher closes the door behind them.

‘I don’t know. I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough, though.’ This is all very exciting.

‘I hope she’s all right. Bob looked awful.’ Her pretty face creases with concern.

As I thought, we all get hustled into an assembly after lunch. Mrs Barker is standing on the stage in the hall. All the college kids are here too, which is unusual. It’s stuffy and tight in here, with dust motes dancing in the sunlight that streams through the windows. I watch her as she clears her throat and takes a deep breath, clasps her hands in front of her.

‘I’m sorry to have to tell you all that I have some very sad news.’

There’s this weird collective intake of breath, and I can almost feel everyone’s pulse pick up, smell the sweat that’s springing up on their bodies. It’s completely silent and still in the room, but swollen to bursting at the same time.

‘We have learnt this morning that Matilda Beaumont’s older brother, Tristan, was killed in a car accident on his way to work today. We realise that many of you knew Tristan, and because this is a tight community, we are all going to be greatly affected by this tragic loss. Please, please know that any of you can come and speak to a member of staff if you are struggling. We will be arranging for counsellors to be available for you, but for now we feel that as long as there is someone there and if any of you want to, that you can go home to be with your families.’

Shock blows around the room, people reel back in their seats. Lots of the girls start to cry – Chloe is being ridiculously dramatic, sobbing and wailing, even though she didn’t even like Tristan as far as I’m aware – and the boys are all pale. They are all frightened. Death can come for anyone, it doesn’t care how old you are. I can feel myself trembling.

Serena has gone an awful green-grey colour, and Molly is silent, her eyes fixed on the floor.

‘Come on,’ I tell them, ‘let’s go.’ I have to get out of this room.

We’re walking out of the hall when I spot Alex. I realise I didn’t see him in the assembly, he must have slipped into the back, and I’m going to ignore him but as I walk past he grabs my arm.

‘I’ll come and see you later,’ he murmurs, and then he’s gone.

Molly watches this exchange with a black look on her face, tight-lipped. He’s intruded on our private moment.

We make our way out of the school, out of the claustrophobia of everyone else’s emotions spilling everywhere. It’s hot and sunny, and the sky is blue. It’s weird that Tristan is cold and dead when everything else is so alive and bright. You’d think the birds would stop singing or the breeze would stop blowing, but nothing’s changed out here.

Serena is crying now, without sound. Tears are running down her face and dripping on to her shirt. We all say we are all best friends, but I know she likes Tilly the best, and I think that she must be feeling her reflected grief as well as her own pain. I wouldn’t know, personally. Molly stops and grabs her in a hard hug. I put