Nick
Nick
Fifteen years after
For the first time on the anniversary of the Cecil Broad Fire, Beth suggests they travel up north together to lay flowers in memory of Anna.
‘I want to do it every year from now on. The university don’t want to remember,’ she explains. ‘They want to pretend it never happened, to try to brush it under the carpet, just like we did. But it doesn’t work. I don’t want her to be forgotten. I don’t want what we went through to be forgotten. And I don’t want us to forget her, either.’
‘It’s such a long way to go,’ he says, as she fills them both a water bottle for the journey.
‘It’ll be nice,’ she replies. ‘A road trip again, just you and me.’
He smiles.
‘Take a look inside the carrier bag on the table,’ she says, as he screws the lids on top of the water bottles.
Before he opens it, he knows what he will find. A CD. Dire Straits.
‘I never did get my hands on another vinyl copy,’ he says as he pulls it out. ‘That’s your Christmas present sorted.’
She grins.
‘You’ll have to get me an incredibly expensive turntable too.’
‘It’s a deal.’
*
They don’t talk much on the way up. They’re fortunate that the traffic is kind – it’s a foggy Thursday morning but the roads are clear.
The play is finally re-opening in three months’ time.
‘How are you feeling about it?’ he asks her, as they pull off the M25 and onto the M1.
She knows what he’s talking about without him even clarifying.
‘Nervous,’ she says.
‘More or less nervous than before?’
‘Less,’ she says, immediately. ‘Much less. Before… I didn’t have you.’
He smiles at that. A small smile, just for himself.
‘It will be brilliant.’ He doesn’t know much about it, but he knows that much. ‘My beautiful, brave, brilliant Beth.’
‘Well, let’s see,’ she says, and then she settles back against her chair, and closes her eyes.