‘I know it’s out of our hands to a degree,’ she says, pursing her lips together. ‘I just always wanted to get married by the Gower Peninsula like my own parents did, but maybe we can have a party there some time after?’
Despite my inner turmoil, my eyes light up at the glimmer of positivity coming my way from her at last.
‘That’s an amazing idea!’ I tell her, even just to distract her mind a little. ‘I’m so sorry about all the disruption and change of plans, Les. But I’ll make it up to you in any way I can, I promise.’
She reaches across the table and rests her hand on top of mine, and then her eyes meet mine.
‘I know you will,’ she says in a whisper. ‘And as long as we’re married, I don’t care deep down if we have to get married in our own back garden. I can’t wait to be your wife, David, that’s all.’
‘I can’t wait either,’ I try to reassure her. ‘It will work out, babe. I love you.’
‘Do you?’
Her reaction makes my eyes widen, so I take her handand hold it across the table, trying my best to convince her that it’s true. I do. I can’t imagine my life without Lesley. She has been so solid, so supportive, and although I’ve often pushed her away as I battle with my demons, I have always loved her deeply.
‘Why do you ask that?’ I say, my head spinning now as the thought of her insecurity gives me further anxiety.
‘You haven’t been the same since … well, you haven’t seemed the same at all since the bomb memorial, David,’ she tells me, the look of relief on her face so evident to have spilled it out at last.
‘What way?’
I know exactly what way she means. I know exactly how much that day has changed me, and although I have tried so many times to tell her about how meeting Kate again was like opening up an old wound, and how it has made me question every step I’ve taken in life since the bomb, the timing has never been right as Lesley is always so focused on wedding plans to the exclusion of virtually everything else. The truth is, I haven’t wanted to drag her down to my level with old ghosts and painful memories, so I have tried to carry on as normal, but it appears I haven’t been as ‘normal’ as I thought I was.
‘You’re distant,’ she says, looking away with tears in her eyes. ‘I feel like I don’t know you any more. Something has changed, I can tell.’
I shake my head, wondering if now is a good time tocome clean about how it felt to meet Kate again, but I don’t know where to start. I’m not even sure it’s relevant, and the last thing I want is to put ideas into Lesley’s head that don’t belong there.
‘It brought back a lot of old memories and pain, that’s all,’ I say, biting my lip. ‘Maybe you and my father were right about me going there. Maybe going back did me more harm than good.’
I’m not sure I believe what I’m saying, but a shrug and a light smile on Lesley’s face suggests I’ve said the right thing for now.
We finish our meal in a slightly awkward silence, which tells me deep down that Lesley is more than disappointed by our change of plans. Her spark has gone, and her enthusiastic planning has come to a standstill.
Now it’s my turn to play with the food on my plate. I hate hurting her by changing the wedding plans, but I don’t feel as if I have any choice. My mother is so sick, and I just can’t celebrate what’s meant to be the happiest day of our whole lives in the middle of all that.
We get home and kick off our shoes in the hallway like we always do, then Lesley goes to run herself a bath while I sit down to check my emails, hoping to hear back from a medical friend I’d messaged for advice on how else I could try to help my mother battle this deadly illness.
I rub my temples again in circular movements as I waitfor the laptop to upload. I roll my neck to get rid of some of the tension that lies on my shoulders, a mix of too much activity on the field and what’s on my mind lately.
I’ve prayed so hard every night for my mother’s recovery. Even if my father has made sure I have managed to be put off practised religion of any sort, I try to imagine a life without her on the end of the phone to reassure me when things get too much, or to ever going home and not finding her there any more. All I can do is pray that she survives this.
I take a deep breath. I’m thinking ahead of things I can’t control, as I often do, and I feel my anxiety levels rise.
I want Lesley to have the day of her dreams, I really do, and I know she had her heart set on getting married by the Gower Peninsula in Wales, but since we got back here to England, my mother’s condition has deteriorated again and my mind is all over the place.
I open my emails, ready to face the usual stream from school, but do a double take when I unexpectedly see a name in my inbox.
Kate Foley.
The subject matter says a simple ‘Hello from Ireland’ but it’s enough to make me sit up as I stare and stare at the screen in front of me.
I touch her name, running my fingers along the letters. I don’t know her. I know nothing about her, yet I’m so taken aback by her name appearing on my screen and what might lie in her message.
I open it and I read her words over and over again, smiling at her good wishes and relating to her instantly in so many ways, just as I knew I would – from her outlook on how she measures every pain she encounters against the trauma we experienced together, to the way she feels what she has been through has made her a much stronger person. I find myself nodding in agreement when she says that part of her is still that 20-year-old girl, sitting on that doorstep beside me as we waited for help, and I feel sad for her when I read about her break-up.
‘Can I get you anything?’ Lesley asks me, popping her head around the doorway of the sitting room.
Her voice makes me jump.
