He smiles, before wincing in pain and adjusting his position on the bed.
‘Or take up knitting,’ I suggest. ‘Or maybe I’ll give Giles a call? Go and hang out in his jacuzzi.’
‘Stop making me laugh, Holly.’
I laugh with him. ‘It’s better than crying.’
‘You’re one of the best people I know,’ he says. ‘You deserve to be happy. I don’t.’
‘Yes you do.’ I rest my head against his arm because I don’t want him to see me cry now. Because I know this will be the last time I see him for a while. Gently he strokes my hair. I don’t want him to stop. When I’m close to Angus I feel like I’m home. I could stay here forever. He’s right. I used to believe in soulmates, that there was only one person out there who could make me happy, but I’m not so certain anymore. Loving Angus doesn’t diminish my love for Jamie. It’s made me realise there are many people out there who are right for us. If things were different, Angus and I could be together. We might have stood a chance. We met at the wrong time. Right person, wrong time. If I don’t go now… I force myself to get up and leave. ‘Be a good patient.’
‘Holly?’
‘I’ll see you around,’ I say, knowing I won’t.
‘Holly?’
I can’t turn round.
‘Holly,’ he repeats.
I keep walking through the ward, towards the nurses’ station. I don’t want him to see the tears streaming down my face now. As I’m about to leave, a dark-haired boy, about Benjie’s age, charges past me. It can’t be anyone else.
‘Wait, Benjie!’ says a harassed-looking Sophie, rushing after him, a sullen teenage girl, with dyed blond hair, ripped jeans, glued to her mobile, lagging behind. I see them approaching Angus’s bed, at the end of the ward, by the window.
‘Dad!’ the boy says, throwing his arms around his father.
‘Be gentle, Benjie!’ Sophie demands.
‘It’s all right,’ says Angus, hugging him back. ‘How’s my boy?’
‘I’m nearly thirteen Dad, I’m not a boy.’
‘Gentle, Benjie. Your father doesn’t need another cracked rib,’ Sophie says, kissing Angus on the cheek. ‘Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?’
I watch Sophie adjust the pillows behind Angus before Amy approaches her dad and he persuades her to give him a proper hug. ‘No one’s looking,’ he says. I know I should leave, but letting him go is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I catch Angus’s eye, and without words, we say our final goodbye.
31
Milla and I stand at the top of the steps, looking down towards the wide open landscape, the endless miles of golden sand. We spent last night with Jamie’s parents before driving to Holkham beach this morning. Over dinner we talked about Jamie. His mother recalled that when he was four, he’d said, ‘Now that I’m four, I’m not going to speak to any three-year-olds again.’ She’d wiped away a tear. ‘He was always grown up before his time.’
‘When he met you, Holly,’ his father said, ‘he said he’d met his match. He’d found his soulmate.’
‘Let’s go,’ Milla says gently, waking me up from my thoughts as we walk towards the sea, wrapped in our coats and scarves, the fresh air bracing, the sky a crystal blue. It’s a perfect winter’s day, and I swear I can feel Jamie with us. He’s by my side.
‘It’s quiet here, peaceful.’
‘I never tire of this view. When I die, I want my ashes scattered here.’
‘Stop it.’
‘I mean it. When I go.’
‘Don’t you dare.’
‘I want to rest here.’
‘Jamie, stop being so morbid.’
