“No,” she shook her head sadly.
“I did that day. Too white. No colour. We waited for hours, just staring into white nothing.” I looked back down at the cocoa in my hand. “She slipped away as the sun came up. Alcohol poisoning, they called it. I grimaced at the term. All that meant is she drank too much. People kept buying her drinks. She had no experience of it and didn’t know when to stop. I don’t blame my parents, but they were too busy to notice. Horrible accident it was called.”
“How did your parents react?”
“Shock. Mostly. Soon they started arguing. Worse than before.” I looked up to the white ceiling.
“How did you react?”
“I cried,” I tried to stop the tears from coming again as my eyes welled up with water. “I cried for so many hours. I thought I could never cry again. Dried up like old toast.” She smiled slightly at my analogy. “Until tonight.”
“That’s a long time not to cry.”
“I was doing alright though,” I complained. “I was coping. Then mum announced the divorce.” I squeezed her hand again, like it was a lifeline, a way to climb out of the black hole. “Since January, it’s been all those feelings again.”
“That’s when drawing the ladybugs started.” Leonora nodded, as if it all made sense.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” I looked at her with amazement. “What is wrong with me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Yes, there is. Any mention of the divorce and I start drawing ladybugs.” I huffed, sipping the cocoa. “Leonora, what if I’m losing my marbles?”
“Ha,” she laughed slightly, “you’re not losing your marbles, but I do have a theory if you’d like to hear it?”
“Yes please.”
She rearranged herself, gathering thoughts for a moment.
“Since the announcement of the divorce, do you feel that Rosie is disappearing for good?” Her voice was very gentle, as though I were a startled mouse that would run and hide in the corner of her room at any second.
“I do. I really do. It’s almost as if… they’re forgetting about her.”
“Ivy, no one’s forgetting about her. They’re just dealing with it all in their own way.”
“By not talking about her? It’s horrible. I won’t let her disappear. I miss her.”
“Ivy, I think this,” she gestured at my hand. “Is your way of keeping her alive. Draw ladybugs, Rosie is still here.” I kept my gaze on my knuckles and the white bandage.
“My way of carrying her with me, you mean?”
“Perhaps, yes,” she offered me another biscuit which I gladly put down my cocoa to take. “Also, just a way that you can almost feel she’s still there. I think… you’re grieving again.”
“Grieving?” I didn’t like the word. It didn’t sound nice or feel nice to say.
“Perhaps the announcement of the divorce has brought up the pain you stamped down on before.” She smiled slightly, trying to reassure me like this was a good thing. “I think you should cry, Ivy. As much as you want to. Wail at the heavens, get angry if you want. Tell your mum and dad that this is causing you pain. They’re not the only people suffering, you’re allowed to as well. I think you should grieve properly. Don’t stamp down on it and ignore it.”
“Grieve,” I said more firmly, the word feeling not quite as horrible as another tear slipped down my cheek.
“Distraction is good. It’s great, it helps us all cope with the bad things in life. Yet sometimes, perhaps it’s better to acknowledge the problem than sweep it under the rug. Acknowledge it for what it is. You look like you need to grieve to me. I’ll be here. All the time. Don’t be afraid to look to us for support.” She smiled, truly meaning her words.
“You sound so wise,” I tried to laugh her off and wipe away the tears at the same time. “How do you do it?”
“Forced to grow up quick I guess,” her smile turned sad, reminding us both of her own sad tale.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said eventually, munching on another cookie. “There’s just one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s messed up,” I looked away from her, knowing she wasn’t going to like this bit.
“Try me.”
“You know Kyle. You remember I said we knew each other from back home before he moved away?” I turned back to her.
“Yeah.”
“Well, he was dating Rosie when she died.” My words could have been a stone dropped in water, creating a huge splash.
“What?!” She tipped the box of biscuits over.
“Please don’t be angry –”
“I’m not, it’s just…” she was frantic, searching for the right word. “It’s so messed up!”
“I’ve been going for the word errgghh.” I shivered to emphasise the point. “He was at her funeral. He looked like he was a puppy that had been trodden on.”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” she was an awful lot more animated now. “Let me understand this perfectly. Kyle when he was sixteen was seeing your sister, but she died.”
“Yep,” I nodded. “Only been seeing each other for a few months. She said they hadn’t quite gone all the way, but they had definitely been… exploring at that age. I didn’t want to think of Kyle’s creepiness as a real threat because he was always so sweet with Rosie, but there was something he said when I first saw him back at the party.”
“What was that?”
“He said I looked like her.”
“Ewww!” She jumped up off the bed and hopped around the room. “This just went from creepy to oh-my-jumping-god weird!”
“You don’t think he’s being all creepy with me because he wants to know what…” I couldn’t say the words and decided to stuff another cookie in my mouth instead.
“Because you’re the closest thing he
