Free-Falling by Nicola Moriarty Page B

skydiving as some sort of tribute to Andy. He had already been surfing with his mates at 3 am last Wednesday night, where they’d apparently formed a circle past the waves and meditated on the loss of his brother. Next he’d been to a two-day music festival, where he’d used a careful combination of punk rock, hip-hop and copious amounts of alcohol to feel closer to his dead twin. And now he seemed to think skydiving was the final step in this ridiculous ‘spiritual journey’.
    â€˜I think not, James Matthew. Do you really believe that I’m going to willingly allow you to risk your life when you’re just about all the family I have left?’
    â€˜Just chill for a minute, Mum. Skydiving is perfectly safe.’ He’d patted her reassuringly on the back and then added, ‘And I’m doing this for Andy.’
    Evelyn had snapped. ‘That’s enough of this rubbish! Your brother hated surfing, had completely different taste in music to you and would have never even considering hurling himself out of a perfectly good aeroplane. You cannot expect me to believe that this thrill-seeking rampage could possibly pass as a way to somehow honour your brother in the afterlife.’
    â€˜Mum, I’m just trying to find an outlet.’ James had looked at her with pity, as though she could never understand the depths of his pain.
    For goodness sake. ‘How about you sort through Andy’s old closet. That ought to make you feel a little closer to him.’ Evelyn had snatched the brochure from James’s hand and stormed out of the house, grabbing her car keys from the hall table as she went.
    She’d got in the car and just started driving, with no idea where she was heading, until, at a set of lights, she’d picked the brochure up off the seat next to her and gazed at the words:

    I’m the one who needs a bloody outlet , she’d thought angrily. I’m the one who needs to feel something.
    And now here she was, audaciously claiming that she wanted to take up this insane activity as a regular sport. Where the hell had that idea come from? It was absolutely too late to back out. There was no way she would let those twenty-something-year-olds, who were somehow managing to run this place, get thebetter of her. It didn’t matter that she would never see any of them again should she decide to cut and run. Her pride was now at stake; she had something to prove to Bazza and Chad and even to James – should she ever tell him.
    She wondered what Carl would have thought of her being here. Her late husband probably would have loved the idea – would have been sitting right alongside her, egging her on. ‘Come on, Ev, you only live once. Do something spectacular while you can!’
    That’s how he always used to talk: so full of positive energy, right up until the end. Even as the cancer began to spread to his bones, he was still talking like they had a long future together.

    â€˜Carl, you can’t keep making these promises to the boys. You don’t know that you’ll be strong enough to take them fishing this year.’
    â€˜Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart. I can do anything I set my mind to. The power of positive thinking – you don’t realise how important that really is.’
    â€˜Positive thinking can only take you so far.’
    â€˜Stop stressing so much. It’s got me here and it’s going to help me make it through.’
    â€˜But you know what Dr Coleman said. You know you haven’t got long.’
    â€˜You think I’m going to accept a death sentence, just because he says so?’
    â€˜Carl, we’ve got to start preparing James and Andrew. They can’t be looking forward to a fishing trip that we both know isn’t going to happen.’
    â€˜It’s going to happen if I say it is, dammit!’
    â€˜You’re in complete and utter denial about this, and I need foryou not to