Page 54 of A Part of Me and You
Oh, Dan. My lonely, lost soul Dan, who is back in Birmingham battling and trying so hard to stay on the straight and narrow when it comes to his drinking, which has ripped the foundations out from our marriage and is tearing us both apart if we both could stop to admit it. Life, eh?
‘I thought I was going to travel the world and then settle down in a place just like this,’ I tell Sarah who is wiping cream from the sides of her mouth as she enjoys her éclair. ‘When I first came here sixteen years ago, I didn’t think it would be so long until I’d get the chance to return. I had visions of making my fortune or raising enough to buy a small property and moving somewhere like here where I’d walk and write and paint and do all sorts of beautiful relaxing things at peace by the sea.’
‘That’s so nice that you have come back after all these years,’ she says. ‘Was it summer time when you were here? And note how I use the term summer lightly. We tend to have all sorts of weather here no matter what month of the year it is, so hurray for today’s burst of sunshine.’
‘I was here in August ,’ I tell her and I can’t help but glance up at the window of the room I stayed in again as I remember it all. That window is like a magnet every time I go past it, urging me to look up and acknowledge its part in all of this.
‘That would have been the summer after my first year at, university, I think … most of my friends were away that summer, now that I think of it,’ Sarah explains to me. ‘A few of us went to Wildwood in New Jersey when we broke from uni and I think that Matt, Shelley’s husband, was living in Dublin with his then-girlfriend. They broke up shortly after that summer though and then Shelley moved here, they fell head over heels in love and the rest is history.’
I smile at hearing Shelley’s love story from her friend and I’m glad that my fleeting moment of envy has passed. I really do hope that Shelley finds peace and happiness again with Matt, who I sense she is having difficulties with at the moment as she struggles with her horrible grief and loss. It must be hard to be apart at such a difficult time.
‘And so you never did find a place to live like this then?’ Sarah asks me. ‘Can I ask why? You don’t have to tell me of course if you don’t want to.’
I pause. I am not sure how much of my story to divulge to Sarah, or how much she really wants to hear.
‘Well, no, I didn’t ever get that far,’ I tell her. ‘My life didn’t work out that way.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she says.
Goodness me, I must look sad and I don’t mean to be sad.
‘Oh no, you see, I found out I was expecting Rosie when I returned from here,’ I explain. ‘My life took a very different turn for me, that’s all. I needed my family around me as I would be raising her alone but I always still had this hope of settling by the sea, maybe when Rosie left for university, or maybe when she put down roots of her own somewhere or hopefully, set off to travel the world. That was my plan, but my life still isn’t really going according to plan now, is it?’
Sarah looks on with deep sadness. ‘Are you sick, Juliette? I didn’t like to pry earlier in your business, but—’
‘The wig gave me away, didn’t it?’ I joke and Sarah looks at me in protest, but I shake my head to reassure her.
‘No, I just—’
‘I am very, very sick, yes. I am dying.’
Her hand goes to her mouth. I shouldn’t have said that so bluntly, but it’s the truth isn’t it? And saying it aloud like that for the very first time is somewhat liberating.
‘So I should probably just stop making plans and then I won’t be disappointed,’ I say, stirring the froth on my latte. ‘Not that I want any sympathy, please don’t get me wrong. We are here in Killara now to enjoy ourselves and that’s what I fully intend to do from now on in life, however long it lasts.’
I smile and shrug at Sarah whose hands slowly come back to the table. She has gone pale.
‘How long do you think that might be?’
My throat dries up when I think about it.
‘I’m not holding much hope for longer than a few months,’ I say to her. ‘Every day now is a bonus. I’d so love to see one more Christmas and maybe it will snow this year, just for me. I’d love to see just one more white Christmas.’
Sarah’s face has frozen in shock and I’m sorry that I have brought her down like this. She looks over at Rosie and Teigan who are chatting animatedly about horses and boats and birthdays, of course. She looks at me, then she looks at her coffee, then she looks at me again.
‘I honestly don’t have any idea what to say to you, Juliette,’ says Sarah, closing her eyes now. ‘I’m so sorry to hear your news.’
‘You don’t have to say anything, honestly,’ I tell her. ‘You’ve been more than kind to us and I won’t forget it. You have no idea how much it meant to us both yesterday to spend those precious moments on the beach together like that. It was a memory that I will cherish until my very final moments. I will never forget Rosie’s face.’
I gulp now as my daughter’s smiling face reflects in my memory.
‘Thank you, Sarah,’ I whisper.
‘Look,’ she says, biting her lip. ‘I know you are only around a few more days, so if there is anything I can help with to make your stay here as good as it can be, just let me know, please, I mean that.’
‘Honestly, you have done more than enough, more than you might ever realise.’
‘And I know you were joking earlier about Shelley being your tour guide,’ continues Sarah, ‘but I swear, you have helped her so much too in the past few days and I think she has really benefitted from your company. A lot more thanyouwill ever know.’
