Page 161 of Carry Me Home

Just the waves. The wind. The distant cry of gulls.

I reach into my coat pocket. Pull out the flowers – lavender, from the window boxes at the café. I picked them this morning, in the dark, before anyone was awake. They’re slightly crushed now, fragrant and bruised.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ I admit. ‘I’ve been thinking about it all week. What I’d say when I got here. But now I’m here and I just—’ I stop. Shake my head. ‘I don’t know how to do this.’

‘You don’t have to say anything,’ Tom says. ‘You could just … let go.’

Let go.

Such simple words. Such an impossible thing.

But I look at the flowers in my hand. At the water stretching out around us. At Tom, steady and patient, waiting for me to be ready.

And I think: maybe it’s not impossible. Maybe it’s just hard. And maybe hard things are still worth doing.

I stand up. The boat rocks beneath me. Tom’s hand finds my hip, steadying me.

‘Hi, Peter,’ I say.

The wind picks up, just slightly. The water ripples.

‘It’s been a year. I still can’t quite believe that. Some days it feels like yesterday. Some days it feels like a lifetime ago.’ I turn the lavender over in my fingers. ‘I miss you. I’ll always miss you. But I’m okay. I’m more than okay, actually. I’m happy. Really happy. For the first time since—’ My voice cracks. I push through. ‘For the first time in a long time.’

The boat rocks again and I plant my feet firm. The gulls wheel overhead.

‘Tom’s here. You probably know that. You probably—’ I laugh, watery. ‘I don’t know what you know. I don’t know if you’re anywhere at all. But if you are, I hope you’re okay with this. I hope you’re glad. You always wanted us to be happy, all of us. You were generous like that. Generous with your love.’

Tom’s hand tightens on my hip. Anchor. Steadiness.

‘I’m not going to forget you,’ I say. ‘I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. You’re part of this place. Part of me. The café, the boat, the village – you’re in all of it. You always will be.’ I take a breath. ‘But I’m going to keep living and run my floating café and grow old in this ridiculous village where everyone knows everyone’s business. And when I think of you, I’m going to smile. Not cry. Smile. Because you were wonderful, and I was lucky to love you, and that’s worth smiling about.’

The lavender is warm in my hand. Sun-soaked. Fragrant.

‘Goodbye, Peter. For now. Until I see you again, wherever that is.’ I hold the flowers over the water. ‘I love you. I’ll always love you. But I’m letting go now. I’m letting go.’

I open my fingers.

The lavender falls.

Purple against grey. Petals scattering on the water, spreading out in a slow spiral, carried by the current.

I watch until I can’t see them anymore. Until they’ve become part of the sea.

Tom holds me. Doesn’t speak.

We sit there for the longest time with the autumn chill settling over us, then Tom shifts and I look up at him expectantly.

‘I’ve got something I want to say,’ he says, ‘and I want to do it in front of Peter too, if that’s okay?’

I shrug, but give him an encouraging smile, until he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. His gaze goes to the sea though, not to me.

‘Pete, mate. I hope you don’t mind me saying the words you once wanted to say, but I think Nina is right. You’d want us to be happy. You’d want us to be together.’

When Tom turns his gaze onto mine, it’s so brilliant, so bright, I can barely breathe.

‘Nina Ellis. I have loved you every day since you first walked into that common room all those years ago. Wherever you were, whatever your path, I loved you, still.’

I’m blinking so fast and it has nothing to do with the wind.