Page 8 of Meet Me Under the Mistletoe
“Overrated.” Tristan laughed. And then he said more seriously, “You won’t like this, Nory, but you don’t need to findyourself, you already know exactly who you are. Of all of us, you always had the strongest sense of self.”
“Jeez, is that how I came across?”
“You always knew your own mind; your moral compass was immovable!”
“What if I don’t like the person I am?”
“Then you need to learn to love her, because like it or not, you’re stuck with yourself.”
“Are you taking your own advice?” she asked, knowing that Tristan would understand she was referring to his battle with depression.
“I’m trying,” he said, smiling. “Every day’s a school day!”
They’d had a great night, laughing over old times and talking about the future. In that moment, it never would have crossed Nory’s mind that Tristan might not have a future.
At the end of the evening, they promised they wouldn’t leave it so long again and they both said they’d call. But they didn’t. It wasn’t purposeful, it was simply that life got in the way. They were busy people. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about Tristan; she did, often, in between needing to text her gran and changing the bedsheets, one of those things you determine to do tomorrow.
Almost a year later, Charles called to tell her Tristan had taken his own life. At first, she felt winded. Then came disbelief, that terrible feeling like you’re stuck in a bad dream and you can’t wake up, it can’t possibly be true. Hot on the tail of disbelief came regret; why hadn’t she made that call? Was she really so busy? What had been so important that in a year she hadn’t had the time to call up her old friend?
During those first few weeks after Tristan’s death, the group had pinged back together like they’d been on elastic and she realized they all felt the same. Each of them felt horribly guilty. Pippahadn’t seen him for a couple of years and Guy even longer. Jeremy had met Tristan for a drink a few months after Nory had. Ameerah had bumped into him on the tube, and they’d promised to get together, never did; they all had a similar story. It wasn’t only with Tristan; they’d all lost touch, aside from Nory and Ameerah. Before the funeral, Nory hadn’t seen Guy since their post-graduation reunion weekend. She’d not seen Jenna or Charles for almost five years, aside from seeing Jenna on the TV. Occasionally she’d meet with Pippa but not regularly enough. She’d met Jeremy at a book festival maybe three years before Tristan’s death.
It seemed unreal that they had been so close, so tight with one another at school and even through university, and then suddenly they’d blown away in different directions, like dandelion seeds in a stiff breeze.
The worst part of all, the part that Nory couldn’t get her head around, was that Tristan wasn’t in the world anymore. It hadn’t mattered that they hadn’t seen each other from one year to the next because she’d known he was in the world somewhere. And suddenly he wasn’t. She would never see him again; that option had been removed from the universe. It was almost unbearable. How could anything be so very final? Had Nory told him how much she loved him the last time she’d seen him? She couldn’t remember. She wished she had. She knew it was selfish of her to want a neat ending, one that left her conscience unburdened. Tristan had been unable to cope with his own demons, she didn’t need to palm hers off on him as well.
Aside from the inevitable grief, Tristan’s death had reconfigured time for all of them. Suddenly there was no such thing as “all the time in the world.” They weren’t all running around in a hedonistic state of carpe diem—although Nory’s brief encounterwith Guy was certainly a knee-jerk reaction to the fleetingness of life—but they each in their own way became more aware of time and its importance. Jenna and Charles stopped their decade-long dance of flirt and denial and made a commitment. Ameerah bought an apartment. Pippa started her own business. And Nory left the well-paid job that she hated and opened Serendipitous Seconds. They all vowed not to lose contact again. Apart from Guy, Nory had seen or been in contact with all of them pretty regularly ever since the funeral.
Nory lay in bed that night, waiting for sleep to rescue her from the maze of shoulda, coulda, woulda tangents into which her mind kept disappearing. It had been a while since she’d been plagued by these thoughts, but knowing she would soon be back with everyone again had brought them back with a vengeance.
She wondered if Jenna was feeling the same. Of all of them, Jenna was the one with the most complex feelings around Tristan’s death. Jenna and Tristan had been each other’s first loves. Throughout school, those two were always breaking up and getting back together. By the time they went to their separate universities, things were properly over between them, and Jenna and Charles were showing sparks that would eventually come to be a flame. But you never forget your first love. You leave a tiny piece of your heart with them, always, and hope that they keep it safe.
A few weeks after the funeral, just the girls had gotten together for drinks. Jenna confessed that she felt as though she had lost a piece of herself. She’d said she hadn’t even known there was such a piece until it was gone; Tristan had taken it with him.
And now here she was, five years later, marrying Charles. Nory supposed all actions begin with a catalyst of some kind.
Her phone vibrated with a message; clearly someone elsecouldn’t sleep either. Nory reached beside the bed to where her phone rested on a pile of books, which had become a kind of makeshift nightstand. She’d once had a date claim it was unnecessary to have so many books in such a small flat; he hadn’t made the cut, obviously. The screen glowed green in the darkness. It was a message from Jenna. She should have known.
Hello! I’m so pleased you’re coming for the house party. I understand why you were holding back but it really wouldn’t be the same without you. Here’s to shits and giggles! Xx
Nory’s fingers hovered over the keypad.
Sorry for my dithering. I’m looking forward to it, it’ll be lovely to catch up with everyone. To shits and giggles! Xx
If it wasn’t for stupid cheaty-face Guy and his poor unsuspecting wife, she would have had no qualms at all about being there. Argghh! How could she have been so stupid! Her cheeks burned in the darkness.
Don’t forget to pack evening wear. We’re going full 1920s castle glamour in the evenings! Xx
Nory huffed loudly at the ceiling. She was not a woman who possessedevening wear, at least not the kind Jenna was talking about. The kinds of parties Nory attended were those for which a good Primark dress with some bold accessories was perfectly adequate. It wasn’t like she could raid Ameerah’sextensive dress collection either, since Ameerah was three sizes smaller than Nory. She would have to ask Andrew; his sister, Scarlett, had a vintage clothing shop and she rented out some pieces as well as selling.
Sounds wonderful!Nory typed back, hoping her reluctance wouldn’t translate over the ether.Don’t worry, I’m on it. It’ll be nice to get dressed up. Are you nervous yet? Xx
Not yet. Too busy to be nervous. OK Magazine are sending a photographer on the day!! Xx
Of course they are, thought Nory, smiling.
Oh My God!! That’s awesome Jen, you’ll be the bride of the year! Xx
Ha I don’t think so! Xx
