Pieces of Us

Day Seven

Sara

‘ …you’ll never be alone. Every time you open it you will remember me. You’ll remember that I am with you. ’

The locket sits in my hand now, and I remember those words I had said to Lottie, how she had cried a bit but finally accepted my gift, placing it around her own neck. And there it had stayed until…

I’d always loved this silly old locket, going back to the day when Mum first gave it to me after spotting it in a charity shop. The necklace wasn’t valuable or particularly old, but I loved the pretty leaf detailing on the front. I open it now and see the tiny photos that Lottie had managed to squeeze in. On one side, she is smiling shyly at the camera, her blonde hair in a bun and her cheeks pink and healthy, as if she’d just been for a run. On the other side, I look dark and haunted. My dark hair is gathered loosely around my face, my eyes painted with heavy liner and I’m almost scowling at whoever is taking the picture.

The sun and the moon – complete opposites and yet we worked.

I couldn’t stay at Greta’s yesterday after Frank gave me this. Suddenly overwhelmed, I made hasty apologies and rushed out. It was too hard being there, in the same spot we always sat, remembering that difficult conversation – the first time I had seen Lottie’s true vulnerability.

With my head lowered so that no one could see my tears, I nearly barged straight into him.

Jay.

‘What the hell?’ I looked up startled, hastily blinking my tears away. The last thing I needed was Jay’s sympathy.

‘Hey.’ He smiled at me, and it was difficult to resist the urge to fall into his arms. Jay always had such a warm, cheeky smile that reminded me of everything that had once been good – teenage years, cuddles, laughter, love…

I frowned instead, memories clawing inside of me like birds with sharp talons trying desperately to escape.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked. ‘I tried messaging you after the funeral, but you didn’t reply.’

My mind was whirling with everything that had just happened and I sucked in a breath, trying to get my head straight. ‘I didn’t think there was much to say.’

He visibly shrank back, his shoulders slumped. ‘I’m not so sure, Sara, I think we have a lot to talk about.’

I glared at him. Yeah, sure he did. He had loads to go through. The only problem was, where would he start! Would he go back as far as when were eighteen and he first broke my heart, yet I forgave him and somehow we still remained friends? Or would he skip a few years and focus on the part when he misled me again, forcing me to go away travelling for two years to escape the humiliation, only to find that he and Lottie were together when I returned? I flinched at the memory. No, maybe not that – maybe he’d talk instead of his regret at dumping Lottie not long before she was diagnosed with cancer and then not coming back to see her while she battled it.

‘I know I should have seen Lottie sooner,’ he said as if he was reading my mind. ‘I just—’

‘I don’t want to hear your excuses, Jay.’ I sighed. ‘It’s not going to change anything. Lottie told me everything that happened. She was broken when you left.’ Just as I had been all those years ago – knowing that the man that I thought was the one for me had no interest in me whatsoever and never had.

At least Jay had had the decency to avoid my gaze. His feet scuffed the ground.

‘I have lots of regrets, Sara. I shouldn’t have left like I did. I should have stuck around, but it was hard being here. This place was getting to me, there were too many memories. I didn’t even find out about Lottie’s cancer until right at the end. By then Erica said she didn’t want visitors, least of all me.’

‘I guess she didn’t want to see you.’

‘So I gathered.’ He lifted his head slowly. His blue eyes sparkled in the cool evening light. I hated how they still made me feel a bit wobbly. ‘I wanted to call you, so many times, but I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me, either.’

‘Well, you’d be right,’ I said stiffly.

‘I’m sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘You’re right, I should let you get on. I don’t want to stress you out. That was never my intention.’

‘Why are you here anyway?’ I demanded.

This cafe had been mainly mine and Lottie’s place, although the boys had come on occasion – in the school holidays or if their football practice had been cancelled.

Jay shrugged; he looked a bit shifty. ‘I dunno. I’m staying here for a bit and I just had this idea to come here. It’s a memory, isn’t it? I never thought you’d be here.’

‘What about your work?’ I asked coolly.

The last I heard, Jay was a partner at some fancy architecture practice in Newcastle. I couldn’t imagine he’d want to be away from there for too long.

‘They understand. I’m due some leave anyway.’

‘OK.’ I nodded and made to move away. ‘Maybe I’ll see you around some time…’

Jay reached out, touching my arm, and a flicker of electricity buzzed deep into my skin. I pulled my arm quickly away, as if I’d been burnt.

‘Please…’ he whispered. ‘Call me, or something. We do have to talk soon, Sara. There are still things I need to talk to you about.’

I frowned at him again and then I strode off. There was nothing that Jay could say that I needed to hear. I wasn’t in the mood for pitiful excuses or prolonged apologies; the guy had caused too much pain already. As I walked away, I could feel his eyes burning into my back and an uneasy feeling overtook me. What if he hadn’t bumped into me by coincidence? What if he was following me?

I think over these worries again now, the locket still in my hand. I’m not working today and have managed to waste most of the morning sitting on the sofa, staring at the Jar of Joy and tipping Lottie’s necklace from one hand to the other.

I hate remembering about Jay. Really, he should be with me now. We should be together, helping each other through this grief – but instead, he stuck up a great big, nasty divide between us. He caused this.

Jess had called me last night. I’d had a few glasses of wine, so I was a bit of a snotty, soppy mess by the time we spoke. She was keen to know about Lottie’s last message and what had happened, so I told her about the locket and seeing Jay outside.

‘Who is this guy?’ Jess asked. ‘Another mate of yours?’

‘He was…’ I took another slug of drink and then coughed as the acrid taste hit the back of my throat with too much force. That would teach me to buy suspiciously cheap wine again. ‘It’s a long story, Jess. Me and Jay were friends for years but then I ruined it all by fancying him.’

‘Ah!’ Jess drew a breath. ‘The age-old problem.’

‘It would have been fine if I’d let things just stay as they were, we had a good thing, you know? The four of us – Dec too – but then in the last year of sixth form there was a party and me and Jay got drunk and—’ I’d shut my eyes, cringing. How was it possible to both love and hate a memory at the same time? Even now, the thought of it made my chest burn.

‘Oh God, so you slept together!’ Jess gushed. ‘Was it everything you hoped it to be? Or was it a total disaster?’

‘No, not then. We just snogged. Silly teenage stuff, but I thought he liked me.’ My eyes smarted at the memory. ‘It was just a drunk mistake. We shook it off, went to uni, stayed friends, until…’

‘Until what?’ Jess’s voice had gone up a pitch. It irritated me how excited she was.

‘Until I made another stupid mistake a few years later. We were drunk again, stuff happened.’

‘And you slept together.’

I took a slug of my wine. ‘Yeah. We slept together. It was nothing.’

Such a simple lie to say, because I’ve spent so long trying to convince myself the same thing.

I couldn’t tell Jess how I still remembered those hot, stolen minutes at the beach. How Jay had ripped off his own clothes and then tenderly unpeeled mine. How his mouth had been on every part of my body, and it had felt so right. How he had said things that had made me groan in need and cry in disbelief. How I had been the happiest I’d ever been.

I couldn’t tell her any of that, because it was pointless.

‘It was a one-off six years ago,’ I had told her coolly. ‘I wanted more but he didn’t. I found out he regretted it, so that was that.’

‘Shit. And then what?’

‘I couldn’t stick around, so I left. I went travelling. When I came back him and Lottie were a nice little couple and I was very much on the outside.’ I hiccough-sobbed. ‘I kept away for a bit – well, until Jay showed his real colours and dumped Lottie. He buggered up north to live with his dad and I was left to pick up the pieces. Just months later, Lottie got her diagnosis and needed me even more.’

‘He sounds like a total wanker. You’re both shot of him.’

Numbly, I’d nodded. ‘I know, I know – but I thought I knew him, really knew him, you know?’ I sniffed. ‘I just feel like I’m too full of pain, Jess. There’s too much inside of me. I don’t know where it can all go. I didn’t even realise how hurt I still was about all of this. It was so long ago, and yet it feels like yesterday. I always stupidly thought that me and Jay were meant to be together. I was such an idiot.’

‘He clearly meant a lot to you.’

‘He was part of my life for so long, it took a lot to walk away,’ I said. ‘I was always angrier with Jay for getting with my best friend. Lottie, I could excuse. She was so desperate for love and affection, but Jay – he should’ve respected me better.’

‘I get that,’ Jess replied. ‘I would be the same. It will get easier though.’

‘Maybe…’

But what does she know? What does anyone know really? The reality was the man I loved had smashed my dreams into bits twice over. Then he’d moved on and broken my best friend’s heart too.

And now they were both gone. And I am left totally alone.

Goose purrs at my feet. I take this as motivation to get moving. I can’t sit around here moping and feeling sorry for myself.

In the shower, the radio plays – in the old days, I used to sing along loudly, and sometimes Lottie would be sat in the living room shouting abuse at me through the door.

‘How the hell can you be so tone deaf?’ Or, ‘Don’t you make your own ears bleed?’

I know I’m not a great singer, but I used to find it soothing to belt out a song at the top of my voice. Now, it’s almost impossible to open my mouth. The words get choked up in my throat, as if they are stuck there, unwilling to come out. It’s easier to swallow them back down.

Although it looks quite warm outside, it’s bloody cold in the flat and I’m shivering as I dry myself. After throwing on an old pair of jeans and a loose long-sleeved T-shirt, I stare in the mirror, barely recognising myself. I was never one for long beauty regimes, that was always Lottie. I was always happier slapping on some moisturiser and a slick of mascara, some eyeliner, and that was me done. Jay used to say he liked the way I looked natural, that I had a ‘glowy, healthy look about me’.

There is nothing ‘glowy’ about me now though. My skin is dry and dull. I have shadows the size of tents under my eyes and my lips are chapped and sore. I rub cream into my skin and attempt to comb my messy hair into a half-decent ponytail.

‘ You need a haircut ,’ I hear Lottie whisper in my ear. ‘ Those split ends are shocking. You can’t blame my death on not looking after yourself. ’

I twitch and actually check behind my shoulder. Am I going mad? How do I keep hearing her voice so clearly?

‘You have to stop doing this, Lottie.’ I whisper. ‘It’s driving me nuts.’

Goose is standing by the door, staring at me with knowing eyes. She knows I’m losing the plot, either that or Lottie has a more powerful hold on me than I realised.

I tip a message from the jar into my hands. I figured there is no point messing around, it’s almost like I can feel Lottie breathing down my neck and to be honest I don’t need that kind of stress. Besides, there is a part of me that wants to see what she has lined up for me next. These messages are little parts of Lottie that are bringing me closer to her again and with each one, I feel less alone.

This one is fairly straight forward and an uneasy smile settles on my lips.

Go for walk in the woods and find your tree.

Remember the time I found you there. Remember why that was important.

Remember the mark you left.

‘You picked a good day for it, Lots,’ I say, gazing out of the window. The sun is properly beaming now, and the street below is lit up in its golden rays. ‘But really? You want me to go back there? Why?’

‘ Just do it ,’ I swear I hear her reply.

The woods – Gasson Woods, to be precise – are about a thirty-minute walk from my flat. They lie perfectly between my old estate, where I lived with Mum, and Lottie’s house and because of that we often used it as a cut-through if it wasn’t too dark.

The woods themselves aren’t that extensive, having been cut back for the numerous new housing projects around, but they are dense and pretty. A well-worn path snakes through the middle, running alongside a small clean stream. There is a small glade in the centre where many late-night drinking sessions take place, but in the day it’s mainly frequented by dog walkers and joggers.

The tree is just off the beaten track, to the left of the glade and away from the stream. I still remember us coming here. Hot clammy hands leading us away from public sight and towards a more private area. I remember how excited, but scared I’d been. How my head was dizzy with self-doubt. Together we had found what we thought was a perfect spot, away from everyone else.

I have to check to make sure I’m walking through the right bit; the area is even more overgrown now. Prickles swipe at my skin and my feet struggle on the uneven ground but finally I see it: the huge oak tree that I’d loved so much.

‘There’s something about trees,’ Mum once told me. ‘I swear they are spiritual or something, the older ones especially are so calming.’

This tree is huge so there is no doubt it is of a good age. A fuzzy familiarity fills me up as I walk towards it, like my blood is being warmed. My hands touch the rough bark, as memories drift and settle in my mind. Where is it? Where is it?

And then, as clear as day, I see the tiny marking made with my compass.

I feel like I’m falling again.