Chapter 30

30

LOUISA

The morphine driver has been a Godsend, despite how much it makes me sleep, and my last days and hours have been free from the physical pain that I feared so much. But no amount of morphine can deaden the heartache of saying goodbye to the people I love.

I can’t believe I’ll never see the children again. I won’t accept it. I’ve never particularly believed in anything that comes after this, but I know that I’ll meet them again, and I feel now as if I’ve met them before, in another life. Holly and Tom too. Our lives are so inextricably linked, it would take more than one lifetime to create that kind of bond, and a lot more than death to unravel it all. I don’t know, maybe that’s the morphine talking, but it suddenly feels so certain and it gives me comfort to cling to.

It’s too much effort to talk now and I’m grateful that I took Holly’s advice while I could and left nothing unsaid. I’ve told the people who made up my whole world just how much I love them and how important they’ve been to me and I hope my words will give them comfort. Not just the things I’ve said in the last few days, but in the letters I’ve left for Holly to distribute. I should have known it was her, guiding me online; after all, she works with lots of cancer charities and groups, and looking back it could only have been Holly.

I wasn’t sure whether to be angry at first. But when I re-read her messages, I saw how perfect they were and how well she understood the situation, when I was still so confused. My attempts to push her and Tom together were ridiculous, and she knew that from the start, but if she’d told me that as Holly, I might never have listened. It was easier to take heed of my anonymous online friend, and acting on her advice has made my goodbyes far less agonising than they would have been otherwise.

When I open my eyes again, the light outside is fading fast, and I can feel my breathing growing shallower. Tom and Holly are holding my hands, and my parents are at the far end of the bed, all of them watching me and waiting. It must be torture, and I’m so glad the roles aren’t reversed; I don’t think I could bear it.

‘You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I promise I’ll love the children enough for both of us.’ Tom’s voice is so familiar, but it feels like he’s drifting further away and I try to nod to let him know I’ve heard what he’s said.

‘We love you, sweetheart, and we’re so proud of you.’ Mum’s voice is thick with emotion.

‘Sleep tight, darling girl, I—’ That’s as far as Dad gets before he lets out a sob, and I watch Mum fold him into her arms.

‘I love you, Lou, and I’ll miss you forever, but it’s okay if you go now. Nan and Gramps will be waiting.’ My sister’s sweet voice is the last thing I hear, and even though I battle to keep my eyes open, I know I can’t keep fighting to stay awake. When I close my eyes, I won’t be coming back, but it’s okay because I’ve lived the most beautiful life. My eyelids are getting so heavy now and I know it’s time, so I take a deep breath and let them close.

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