Pieces of Us

Day Eight

Sara

This isn’t like me. Usually when Tyler is top of me, thrusting and groaning, I’m totally swept up in the moment. I claw at his back, I bring my legs up so that he can enter me more fully, I groan and shout and sometimes I bite. Usually, I love sex.

Today, I’m staring at a dark mark on the ceiling and wondering if it might be mould. How do you even fix that?

Tyler sighs and rolls off me.

‘Did you come?’ I ask him.

‘What do you think?’ He gets off the bed and starts gathering his clothes up from the floor. ‘It’s not right, us doing this. You’re not the same at the moment. Do you even want this?’

I turn on my side, pulling the covers over my body, suddenly self-conscious of my exposed skin. ‘I’m sorry, I thought I did want it, but…’

He shakes his head sadly. ‘It’s OK. You’ve been through a lot. Maybe you just need to talk or something?’

I laugh. I can’t help myself. I’m not supposed to talk to Tyler. He’s not exactly the kind of guy that you sit around with and have a cup of tea and a heavy chat.

‘Why is that so funny?’ Tyler looks hurt, standing there clutching his T-shirt against his perfectly ripped chest. ‘Do you think I’m too thick to have proper conversations with or something?’

‘No, I—’

‘I’m sorry I’m not one of your university-educated mates like Declan or Jay,’ he continues, his cheeks flushed. ‘Maybe that’s why you’re so embarrassed to be seen with me.’

‘No, Tyler, it’s not like that.’ A giggle erupts from me again. I can’t help myself. He looks so daft standing there, glaring at me with an angry expression whilst only wearing one sock and a pair of pants.

‘You call me up. You expect me to drop everything to come and see you and every time it’s just for sex. It’s not even fun sex lately, it’s angry, cold…’ He shakes his head. ‘I don’t feel comfortable with it, Sara.’ He tugs on his jeans. ‘It’s like you’re using me.’

I’m a little shocked. He’s clearly being serious. ‘Tyler. I thought you liked it how it was between us,’ I say instead. ‘It’s easy, uncomplicated.’

He pulls the T-shirt over his head and then stares down at me. His eyes are so pretty, he has long lashes that most girls would pay for. This morning his eyes look larger, if that’s even possible, and so sad. He reminds me of Bambi.

‘Well, maybe I don’t want that any more, Sara,’ he says. ‘Maybe I need more. I keep trying to hint that I want to change things but you never want to do anything with me apart from this.’ He points to the bed and pulls a face.

‘I thought you liked sex with me,’ I say. I know I sound sulky, but I can’t help myself.

‘I do. You know I do, but it can’t always just be about that, can it.’ He grabs his coat. ‘It’s all just feeling a bit – I dunno – pointless.’

He walks out of the room without saying goodbye and I feel a spike of anger. How dare he make me feel bad for wanting sex, for wanting something easy and normal.

When the front door slams shut, my anger drains away. A wash of desperation rushes over me and I curl up on the bed in a tight foetal position, trying to fight back the tears. I called Tyler thinking I wanted sex, but was that true? What I probably needed most was a cuddle.

The last message from Lottie had floored me. I didn’t understand why she had taken me back to the tree. It still hurt to think of that day, to that time when Jay had said those things to me. And how did she even know about it? Did Jay tell her about it? The thought of those two laughing about the whole thing makes me want to sob.

Yes, I had been cold with Jay then. I had flinched when he’d tried to pull me into a hug. I’d tried to make light of things by being casual and then by telling him that I was happy dating the idiot I had picked up at university. The truth was, I’d been scared. I was scared of my feelings for him. Those chats on the phone we’d had while at university had been long in-depth calls late into the night – usually when we were both drunk. We never talked about feelings or anything like that, but we shared other stuff – parts of me that no one else knew: my hopes, my fears, my desires. Jay had seen me at my most exposed, he knew the true depths of me. Having him back in town was both terrifying and exciting. I wanted to have him close to me, of course I did, but I also knew he was like a drug that I should stay away from.

I thought of the initials Jay had carved into the tree with my compass all those years ago. We had been much younger then, fifteen I think, and walking back from school. He had done it suddenly in an act of spontaneity.

‘There – now we’ll always be linked together,’ he’d said, grinning, ‘no matter what anyone says. It’ll be you and me against the world.’

And I’d believed him. I really had. Deep inside, I think I always thought that we would end up together. It felt like destiny, like a perfect fit, like home.

But that afternoon – I couldn’t tell Jay those things. I couldn’t risk him throwing it in my face again. I was afraid he might have laughed, or got scared by the intensity of my feelings. It had been easier to build a wall around myself – to convince myself that he wasn’t what I wanted or needed.

So we did what we always did when our feelings got too deep – we hurt each other, we pushed the other one away. God knows what we’d ever be like if we’d ever dated.

Despite it being time for me to get up and get ready for work, I close my eyes and try and make the bad feelings go away, but nothing is helping.

I hate Lottie’s stupid Jar of Joy. I hate remembering everything. I just want to forget.

I turn up to work twenty minutes late. Sharon makes a big deal of looking at her watch and grumbling under her breath, but other than that she leaves me alone. The truth is, Sharon knows I’m a good worker. I never had any time off before Lottie got really sick. I know there is part of her that wants to have a go at me, but there is another that wouldn’t dare rock the boat. I do a hard job for crap pay and barely moan – she would be lucky to replace me.

I help clean and dress the residents, working at speed to make up for lost time. Jess isn’t working today, which is a shame as I could have done with talking to her. Ade is in, though, singing tunelessly at the top of his voice and making everyone smile. Another older lady is working too: Diane, from the agency. She has brought homemade muffins in and left them in the staffroom for us to enjoy. I eat mine quickly at first break, realising how hungry I am; I missed breakfast in my rush to get here and the sudden sugar rush almost makes me feel giddy. By the time I go and see Derek, I’m still a little high.

Derek has been in his bed for the last day. Ade told me he wasn’t feeling that good and barely touched his breakfast earlier and, as I walk into his room, my heart stills for a second. He is lying so stiff in the bed I’m almost scared to approach. The sweet, sickly muffin starts to rise in my throat.

‘Derek,’ I whisper.

It’s dark in the room, so I go to his window and draw the curtains back. It’s a beautiful day and immediately bright sunlight floods the space. I walk closer to Derek and gently touch his hand. It’s warm.

I draw a breath. ‘Derek,’ I say again.

He mutters something in his sleep. His mouth is open slightly, his head tipped back. I stand for a moment or so just watching him. He looks so peaceful. Just like Lottie had…

My mind drifts to the last time Lottie’s mum had let me see her. She had guarded Lottie like a dog, not really allowing any guests at the end. I had begged at the door, almost in tears.

‘Please, Erica, just a few minutes. I need to do this.’ Something inside of me told me that Lottie didn’t have long left and when Erica had reluctantly stepped back and let me pass, I’d felt a mixture of fear and relief. Lying on her back in her bed, covers pulled tightly around her, Lottie didn’t look sick, not really. She had lost lots of weight, but her face still had that pretty, innocent look to it – especially the way she was laying there with her blonde hair spread out on the pillow.

‘You look like Sleeping Beauty,’ I’d told her. Except there was no kiss on earth that was going to wake her up. I took her hand and I squeezed it gently. I told her I loved her. I said I was sorry about being angry about her and Jay. ‘It was silly,’ I said. ‘Silly, childish emotions. I shouldn’t have let it come between us.’

I swear I felt her move her hand in mine, saw the slightest twitch behind her eyes. It was enough for me. She had heard. She understood.

Erica came in soon after and ushered me out. I was ‘tiring her out’, so I needed to go. I slipped away without argument, only allowing myself to glance back once. She really did look quite peaceful, but all I wanted was for her to sit up and start shouting at me.

That was the last time I saw her. She died the next day.

‘Sara?’

I am startled back into reality. Derek’s eyes are now wide open and staring into mine. He looks worried.

‘Is everything OK? Are you crying?’ He rubs his face and groans. ‘For a minute there I thought I’d died and woken up as a ghost.’

‘N–no, everything is fine.’ I swipe at my eyes, trying to press away the tears. ‘I’m sorry, Derek, I was lost in thought. Are you OK, is there anything I can fetch you?’

He grins at me. ‘As it happens, I’m feeling a little peckish now.’

‘Well, in that case, I have just the thing.’

I watch as Derek devours the muffin. Far more interesting than the food they serve up here and he hardly has to care about the calories. I have fifteen-minutes for my break and I don’t mind spending it perched on the end of Derek’s bed. It makes me smile watching him wipe the crumbs away from his face and try to hide his excitement at eating such a sweet treat.

‘I don’t often enjoy things like this now, my sense of taste has gone right out of the window, but today this was just what the doctor ordered,’ he tells me, carefully placing the empty wrapper on the side.

‘You can thank Diane later when you see her. She made them.’

‘Is she the one with the rather loud voice?’ Derek pulls a face. ‘She always wants to open my windows. It drives me mad.’

‘Well, fresh air is good for you, and it is quite stuffy in here.’ I look around me, considering the options. ‘Derek, I still have some time. Why don’t we go for a walk around the grounds, it might do you good?’

Derek shifts in his bed. ‘I’ve been feeling a little light-headed, but I suppose sleeping all day isn’t going to do me much good.’

I help Derek as he takes some wobbly steps towards his wheelchair. Despite the warm day, I place a blanket over his frail legs and then move him out towards the back door.

‘I’m a big believer that sunshine makes most people feel better,’ I tell him as I ease the chair out of the patio doors and down the main path into the gardens. ‘Maybe you can tell me a little more about you and Alice. I love hearing about your life together.’

Derek shakes his head. ‘I’m getting tired of talking about me all the time. It was nice at first, but now not so much…’ he says, smiling weakly. ‘I don’t feel so sad about my past now. Maybe because I know I’m getting closer to seeing my darling Alice again.’

‘Oh, Derek, don’t talk like that, you could have years left yet.’

We’ve reached the small pond that sits in the centre of the garden. An unusual water fountain that is meant to look like a swan (but looks more like a lopsided chicken) trickles peacefully. It’s probably my favourite place to come here and I know Derek likes it too. I wish I could sit here and draw, it’s such a pretty scene.

‘I’m not scared of death,’ he says gently. ‘It’s just part of our journey, isn’t it? I’m hoping that I will see loved ones again. It will be peaceful, I’d imagine, and kind. I don’t think that’s anything to be scared of.’

I touch his hand. ‘You don’t need to be thinking about those things now though. Enjoy the day. It’s so pretty here.’

‘Yes, yes, it is…’ He breathes out a big puff of air. ‘You almost feel all of your worries disappear.’

‘Yes – I suppose you do.’

He chuckles. ‘Sara. You can pretend all you like, but I know you’re upset about something. Is this to do with your friend? The one who died?’

I nod and find myself telling him about the last note and how it made me feel going back to the place where I first let myself be true to Jay. It’s surprisingly easy talking to Derek; he doesn’t interrupt, and his calm eyes pass no judgement.

‘I can’t help wondering why Lottie wrote that message? That day wasn’t a good one for me. At the time, I thought maybe me and Jay could rebuild – it was the start of something hopeful, you know? But then everything went wrong.’

‘That sounds hard,’ Derek says. ‘You obviously cared about this boy a great deal.’

I half laugh. ‘He was pretty important to me, and that afternoon was the start of the change. We were talking about deep stuff at first, before our argument. I thought maybe it was the start of things shifting between us. We had so much history, our families hating each other, the fact we’d been friends for so long. I couldn’t imagine being without him and yet, being with him made me scared too, especially when he’d hurt me before.’ I stop talking, feeling suddenly silly and quite shy.

Derek sighs next to me. ‘It sounds a bit like my story, doomed love. My parents didn’t want me to marry Alice because she was German – even though the war was long over, the prejudice stayed. When we ran away together, we were scared. We didn’t even know if it would work, all we had was each other and hope. We had plenty of that.’

‘That sounds so sweet.’ My voice wobbles. ‘That’s what I once thought would happen with Jay and me, too. I thought we were strong enough together, that we could oppose the stupid beliefs our parents had. After all, it was their war not ours.’

‘What was it over, if you don’t mind me asking?’

The pain hits me straight in the gut just thinking about it. ‘It’s complicated, Derek, I won’t bore you, but it was stuff to do with my mum and Jay’s dad that didn’t even involve us.’

‘And you and Jay?’ His voice is softer now. ‘I take it it didn’t work out in the end?’

I glance back at the home. I can just about make out the figure of Sharon pacing just inside the patio doors. She’s probably looking at her watch again and cursing me for taking a longer break than I should. She won’t notice that Derek has colour in his cheeks now, that he’s sitting up straight and engaging in conversation.

‘I need to take you back, Derek,’ I say, lifting his brake and moving him gently round. ‘I’ll get in trouble if I don’t.’

‘And leave me hanging about you and Jay? What happened, Sara? Did your parents stop it? Did you both get too scared?’

I dip my head, so he can’t see the tears. ‘No. We weren’t scared and no, my parents didn’t even get a chance to ruin it. It was Jay. It was always Jay. I ended up putting my trust in him and once again he decided I wasn’t what he wanted. Then he went off with someone else and totally broke my heart in the process.’

Even now, after all these years I’m surprised how much those words hurt me. I wheel Derek with wobbly legs.

‘I’m sorry, Sara,’ he says as we reach the doors. ‘I shouldn’t have asked. It wasn’t my business.’

‘No, it’s OK, I’m sorry.’ I manage a smile. ‘I will never let that man get under my skin again.’

Derek reaches out and gently pats my arm. ‘I’m a great believer that everything happens for a reason, Sara. There was a reason Lottie wanted you to remember that memory. Maybe you just need to understand why?’

Back at home, I’m exhausted. I manage to make myself a jacket potato, feed Goose and then flop out in front of the TV ready to numb my brain with an easy-to-watch thriller. I can’t concentrate though. I push my half-eaten dinner away and stare at the Jar of Joy.

‘Hardly joyful,’ I mutter. ‘It’s made me feel crap all day.’

I think about what Derek had said to me about Lottie’s reasonings. He was right, Lottie was always so bloody sensible and such a planner, I couldn’t believe she would ever be deliberately cruel.

I picture her sitting next to me now, her gentle, kind face wearing that worried expression she often adopted when she was scared I might fly off the handle or take something the wrong way.

‘ You’re my best friend ,’ I hear her say. ‘ You just have to trust me. ’

My sigh disturbs Goose next to me, who stretches out a paw and chirrups softly. I stroke her belly and allow myself to relax. It was true, the memory hadn’t been all bad – in that moment with Jay, there had been hope and anticipation too. That day I’d really thought my life was going in the direction that I finally wanted it to. Perhaps that was what Lottie wanted me to tap into – the feeling of excitement and rush of early love.

‘OK,’ I mutter. ‘I’ll trust you for now, but no more big surprises, okay?’

I swear I see her grin back at me. ‘ Good, but now you have to open your next message. It’s getting late. You should be doing one a day. ’

I shake my head at Goose. I’m clearly losing my mind, but despite this, I find myself picking up the jar and drawing out another message.

‘This better not be another one involving Jay, because I swear…’

The message is a blue one today.

Do you remember all the times we spent at your flat? I loved it there. It was always filled with love and warmth.

Go and visit your mum. You know you don’t do it often enough. Give her a hug from me.

XX

Guilt is trickling through me like hot water through ice. It’s true, I haven’t seen Mum much. In fact, I rarely visit her at all. Since I got back from travelling, things had shifted between us. I hated seeing the disappointment in her face, the regret she had that I didn’t do so well after university and get myself a decent job. We’d had too many rows about the decisions I had made, and it had become easier to stay away rather than face her.

At least once a week I phone her, though, and this message has reminded me it’s time to call again. I doubt very much she would want me to come and see her anyway. Mum keeps herself pretty busy – if she’s not working, then she’s round my brother Kyle’s place helping him out, which provokes the usual twinge of annoyance just thinking of that.

Mum answers within a few rings. ‘Sara? You OK? It’s a bit late for you to be calling.’

I glance at the clock. It’s just after nine. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve just eaten and I thought I’d check in. I realised I hadn’t rung for a bit.’

‘I tried calling you a few days ago, but I knew you’d be distracted with the funeral and everything.’ Mum coughs, her breathing rattling a little. ‘I did think about going but I have this cold, I wouldn’t want to give it to everyone.’

‘Oh, Mum, you should have said…’ I feel even worse now. I had no idea she was even thinking of coming. She never seemed to have that much time for Lottie.

‘She was a sweet girl, a little clingy perhaps, but I expect that was her upbringing.’ Mum coughs again. ‘She certainly idolised you.’

‘I’m not sure why,’ I say with a wry smile. ‘Hey Mum, I’m off tomorrow. I’ll pop over in the morning. Bring you some grapes or something?’

‘I’ve just got a cold, that’s all.’ She pauses. ‘But if you could pick up some chocolate on the way that would be nice.’

‘Yes, of course. I’ll come over at ten.’

‘I’ll make sure the kettle is on.’

The call ends and I stare at Lottie’s message again. It surprises me that she always found my flat so welcoming, it certainly explains why she was always so keen to go there.

‘You have so much,’ I remember her telling me once. ‘But sometimes it’s hard to see that for yourself.’

At the time I had rejected that notion. How on earth did I have so much? We were always broke, my Dad was dead and my brother was banged up in prison. How on earth did me and my workaholic mum have more than Lottie?

It makes me realise now how little Lottie actually had.