Page 39 of Rewrite the Stars
It catches my breath for just a few seconds, but I don’t even open it. I want to, but I can’t, so I just press delete.
Chapter Eleven
Wicklow, May 2018
‘Jack wants to go to the seafood restaurant as usual, but I’d love to try somewhere different,’ I say to Sophie as I drive through the Wicklow Mountains on my way home from school. ‘What do you think? There’s the new steak house near Bray if you wanted to come out this direction?’
It’s our monthly catch-up dinner with our two very closest friends and as always I’m looking forward to hearing all that’s going on with Sophie and Harry, especially now that we live a bit further apart geographically and it’s not as easy to meet up for coffee or chats during the week.
‘Jack’s such a creature of habit!’ laughs Sophie. ‘He would eat in the seafood place every month for the rest of his life if you let him! Does he still insist on washing the cars every single Saturday at nine thirty?’
‘Yes!’ I tell her, nodding in agreement. ‘Even if it’s blowing a gale or a hurricane, he’d still be out there with his yellow bucket and sponge in his wellies and waterproofs. Honestly, I think he’s getting worse! He just loves a routine and if he missed the ten o’clock news with a cup of tea in his hand the world would end!’
I hear Sophie’s hearty laugh echo through the Bluetooth system in my new gleaming white Land Rover Discovery, which I’m still getting used to as I manoeuvre through the winding roads. The new vehicle was a present from Jack that came straight from the showroom in celebration of my new role at the prestigious Holy Trinity School in Dublin and our new home near the picturesque town of Ardara, in County Wicklow.
‘That’s married life for you, Char,’ says Sophie. ‘I swear, Henry never once wore slippers in his life, well not since he owned a pair of Thomas the Tank Engines when he was a nipper. But now that we’re all sensible and married, he wears the most hideous velvet navy pair round the house and it makes me want to vom!’
I laugh as I imagine Henry, all six foot four of him, skulking around in his slippers on their fancy porcelain floors, all the time listening to Sophie rant about how much they make her sick! They’re a comedy duo for sure, and she’s bang on about how settled Jack is now that we’re also married.
Our wedding, back in July, was a dream from start to finish, with everything going exactly according to plan. Sophie’s string quartet of friends from university re-formed to play me down the aisle to a haunting rendition of ‘I’m Kissing You’ by Des’ree, I wore a Valentino-inspired lace vintage dress that felt as exquisite as it looked, Jack was dashing in an emerald green suit and the sun shone for us all day. Even Emily and Kirsty played the role of bridesmaids to perfection and managed not to try and outshine each other too much in the glamour stakes. When Matthew sang our first dance, a medley of our favourite songs, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house – or on the patio, I should say, as that’s where we were blessed to have the ceremony just as we’d planned it.
I never did hear from Tom again after I deleted his message of congratulations on the night of our engagement party. Even though I yearned to know what he had written in his message, I reminded myself that I’d done the right thing by not opening it when I was already so vulnerable and emotional after hearing Matthew sing.
I had decided I couldn’t allow myself to keep looking back in life. My future was with Jack, a life with him in Dublin, my job in teaching and in making sure the wedding everyone was so looking forward to would be one made of dreams, so I put my feelings on autopilot and drove on.
The only unplanned moment of the most perfect day was when Matthew had taken me to one side in the hotel foyer as guests danced to country jives in the adjoining function room, oblivious to the moment we were about to share when we’d finally put the elephant in the room to bed.
The look of fear on his face told me what was coming.
I sat down on one of the plush velvet armchairs and he pulled his wheelchair in as close to me as he possibly could.
‘Charlotte … I need to apologize …’
‘Matthew, you don’t have to say anything,’ I told him, taking his hand which was cold and shaking. ‘Please don’t be torturing yourself any more. It’s over. It’s in the past.’
Even though we’d never, ever mentioned Tom since that fateful day in Sullivan’s Bar, I’d caught him so many times over the past two years lost in memories and lost in time, staring into space in deep thought. I didn’t want to see him in any more pain, not when he was doing so well.
‘I was selfish and so confused, Charlotte,’ he said to me, as he sat before me in his dapper navy suit, white shirt and pale blue tie. He’d dyed his hair the most hideous yellow for the occasion, but it was a glimpse of his old character coming through again so we all loved it. ‘I was an arrogant prat, to be honest, but I was also very much besotted with a man I knew I could never have. I don’t think I could ever go through that again.’
He gulped back tears.
‘Oh, Matthew!’
I didn’t want to interrupt him too much. I knew how difficult this must be for him, yet therapeutic at the same time to get it all off his chest.
‘My attraction for Tom was a huge wake-up call that my sexuality wasn’t as straightforward as I’d hoped it would be, pardon the pun. But I should have got over myself and given you both a chance. He didn’t want me, he wanted you. I know I’m way too late in saying this, but I’m so very sorry.’
I clasped his hands in mine and rubbed them to warm them up, always feeling that unconditional urge to protect and look after him. The evening was creeping in and the temperature had dropped substantially also. That’s the thing about Irish weather – four seasons in one day and all that.
‘I appreciate you saying this,’ I told him, looking into his eyes which were a mirror image of my own. ‘But we don’t have to keep living in the past, so let’s keep focused and move on to a great, great future. Look at where we both are now, eh? You have Martin, I have Jack. We are—’
‘Areyou happy, Charlotte? Really happy?’
I paused. I smiled. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and I breathed out.
‘Of course I’m happy,’ I told my big brother. ‘It’s my wedding day so of course I’m happy. Now don’t worry about me ever again, and let’s keep going forward.’
He looked away and then back at me, holding his head up high.
