Chapter six
Ed
Naturally,thevideogetsa ridiculous number of views, because any crying on TikTok does.
Chapter seven
Bess
Twolittlechildrenarerunning in and out from under a sprinkler on their front lawn. In and out, in and out. I can't hear their laughter, but their mouths are wide with delight, their hair slicked down on their skulls. The late afternoon sun is caught in the droplets of water, making it look like the children are playing in a fountain of light.
I, too, feel like I've been caught in a fountain of light.
Removing the binoculars from my face, I rest them on my lap and close my eyes.
That letter.
In the meantime just this – I love you.
I'm aglow in the wake of reading it. Of rereading it.
It feels, I imagine, a little bit like what the first flush of love feels like. All that cortisol and oxytocin coursing through your veins, a lightness to your limbs, a pressing warmth in your chest.
I've memorised nearly every word.
Betelgeuse will anchor our love in time and space.
Taken out of context it almost sounds corny, but when delivered in the middle of an expression of love between two people who might never see each other again, it's utterly beautiful.
I've never been much interested in star gazing, but I'm tempted to stay here until the stars come out and imagine what it must have felt like to have the language of a galaxy to share with someone you loved, who was elsewhere in the world, desperately trying to stay alive.
I know I can't ever imagine it. I'll never be able to comprehend those circumstances.
The door to the roof opens and closes, footsteps approach, and everything feels right in the world because Ed’s here.
Ed and I became friends almost as soon as he took over managing the Port Derrum Library.
I'd heard there was a new librarian in town. I like librarians. How could someone not? They're people who have dedicated their careers to the care of books and advocacy of reading, so should be somewhere around David Attenborough in the hierarchy of our species. Naturally, I wanted to see if this one was someone I could give some time to.
So, I did a litmus test of their librarian sense of humour.
I walked up to the issues desk, and after I'd got over my surprise at the new librarian being a man and kicked myself for my gender-role assumptions, I said, "I'm looking for a book I read last year that had a profound effect on me." Then I delivered the line that might be a test of their librarian patience, or an opportunity to call me out for my witty jokestering. "I can't remember what it was called, but it was green."
Ed didn't miss a beat. "Was itThe Very Hungry Caterpillar?"
I decided then and there that yes, this was a person I could happily give time to. Maybe a lot of it.
It was easy. Being mutually aggressively closed doors, we were safe. He was like that gay male friend every straight woman wishes they had because there's no possible chance they're going to try and get in your knickers. And I was like, I don't know, the sister he never knew he had?
"Can I have one of those?" he asks as he lowers himself into the empty sun lounger.
I unscrew the lid of the thermos and pour him a G'n'T.
He takes a sip, settles into his chair with an "Ahhhh", and gazes out over the houses. "Mrs Kavanagh hasn't cultivated multiple husbands yet?"
I laugh. "No. Why on earth would she want multiple husbands? No woman in her right mind would desire that."
"One to cook. One to mow the lawns and tend the garden. One to do maintenance. One to provide massages and clean the pool."
