She says it with such empathy, I wonder for a split second if she’s talking from experience.
‘And as Jackson’s mum, I can tell you, it changed him too. This was something you both went through and struggled with.’
My nose prickles and I blink rapidly, trying to hold myself together.
‘There’s no blame here,’ Sophie says gently. ‘Everybody did what they had to do to survive. But if you are going to move forwards together, you must clear the air.’ She reaches for my hand. ‘You have to trust him enough to open up and trust he’ll do the same. I think he will. You aren’t the only one I’ve been talking to.’ Her thumb circles the back of my hand in much the same way as Jackson’s has done with me.
‘You two look cosy.’ Jackson’s teasing voice comes out of the blue and I pull my hand back.
‘Just saying how I’m looking forward to going to the Lilypad,’ says Sophie cheerfully.
‘Oh, good.’ There’s a hint of tension in his tone, but he’s trying to smile through it.
‘Food,’ says Milo, handing out menus. ‘Mum, their special is chickpea, tomato and lentil soup. It sounds delicious.’
Jackson bends to put his mouth to my ear. ‘I want to show you something later.’
I look up at him. ‘What?’
‘Something floral.’ His eyes sparkle. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’
About an hour and a half later, Reeni and I are sitting on abench at the front of the Lilypad while Aaron takes Sophie and the boys into the hospice. Sophie had said we were welcome to go too, but it felt too personal so we left them to it. We’re sitting side by side listening to the peace and quiet of the gentle waves rolling onto the beach and the odd seagull.
‘You had a drink over lunch,’ I say. It’s just clicked that Reeni had an alcoholic drink, something she’s avoided for months now in an effort to keep clean.
She gives a small shrug. ‘I still want, no, would like a baby. That longing didn’t disappear overnight. I’m trying to be rational about it, though. Live life normally.’
‘It still might happen, you know.’
She crosses her fingers and holds them to her chest. ‘And until then I’m going to live the life I have with the people I love to the fullest and be grateful for what I’ve got. I fill in a gratitude diary every night now.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘Happy clappy stuff, I know. But it seems to be helping.’ She nudges me. ‘Try it. Come up with three things you’re grateful for.’
‘Oh. Right …’ I can think of three things I’m not grateful for straight away.
‘I’ll start. One. Aaron holding my hand at the pub. Two weeks ago, he’d never have done that.’
‘My photography evening being a success.’
‘Two. Olly loving spending the day and night with Aaron’s mum.’
I look at the large glass doors to our left. ‘Being healthy enough that I don’t have to contemplate a hospice.’
Reeni leans into me. ‘And three. Making peace with the best friend anyone could ever have.’
I grin. ‘Ditto.’
Reeni laughs. ‘That’s cheating. That’s my number three. Get your own.’
‘OK. Number three.’ I purse my lips together, thinking. ‘Finding Jackson again.’
We both lapse into silence again. I’m mulling over my words. I know Jackson and I are at the beginning of our journey and with Sophie’s words circling my head, I know there’s difficult terrain ahead. But that doesn’t take away from the fact I am genuinely grateful to have met him again.
‘How was it?’ I ask Jackson. We are all standing on the driveway at the front of the hospice.
He frowns. ‘It feels a bit strange to say this, but it was lovely. It’s really calm and peaceful and Mum loved the new garden and lily pond. You can see and hear the sea from it too.’ He stares down at his foot as he grinds it into the gravel. ‘Who’m I kidding? It’s not lovely. But I am trying to see it from Mum’s point of view.’ He loops an arm around my shoulders.
‘I’ll give Sophie a lift home,’ says Aaron. ‘The wheelchair fits easily into the boot of my car. Are you coming or staying with Ellie?’ he asks Reeni.
‘Why doesn’t everyone come back to The Beach House?’ I say, an idea forming. ‘The fire pit’s still there. Drinks and toasted marshmallows, anyone?’
