15. Scarlett

For the next few days, I’ve thought about nothing but Jamie.

Where there used to be happiness and light in his eyes there is only sadness now.

Since going back to his mums to live I’ve not been over to see him.

We’ve exchanged text messages, lots of them, daily.

I know the army has been in touch and I know he’s starting therapy sessions but it’s Pat who has disclosed those snippets of information, not Jamie.

Dealing with his grief alongside my own is proving hard and to be honest, creating a distance between us has probably been the right thing for both of us.

Texting is easier than actual physical contact.

You can make the other person believe that everything is okay, life is a breeze.

Even when it isn’t.

I know Jamie isn’t better, I know it will take months to get my Jay back but I can wait for him.

Today though, I’ve planned a breakfast picnic for him and I’m on my way over to see him.

I’ve already prepared myself for the fact he may reject me, and refuse to see me.

I’ve made peace with that.

If he doesn’t want me to stay, I’ll simply leave the baked goods for him to enjoy alone.

At least he’ll know I care; he’ll know I’m thinking about him and want to help him.

If that’s all he has to offer, I’d take it.

Baby steps and all that.

When I pulled up outside his house, I took a moment to steady my nerves.

I’ve never felt nervous around Jamie, not for a single second in all these years, but for some reason, I know today could go one way or the other and I have to be prepared for both.

Gathering my thoughts, I plaster an easy-going smile on my face and climb out of the car.

With the basket under my arm, I lock the car and head up towards the front door.

Pat opens it before I have a chance to knock. Scouring her face for any signs I should turn around and go home, I’m glad to see her smiling. It seems to be genuine too. “Good morning, sweetie. You look lovely, as always. Jamie’s in the kitchen waiting for you. Do you mind if I pop out to grab a few bits while you’re here with him?”

I lean in to kiss her cheek lightly.

“He keeps telling me he’d be okay if I leave but…well I don’t feel I can at the minute.”

“Absolutely.

Take your time, I don’t have to be anywhere today.

I’ll stay as long as you need me to,”

I step over the threshold and pass Pat as she grabs her coat and car keys.

“How is he today?”

I pause before heading into the kitchen.

Before Pat can answer Jamie appears in the kitchen doorway.

“He’s fine, still in one piece and starving,”

Jamie chuckles when I jump at the sound of his voice.

“Oh, you’re there are you, and minus that bloody horrible beard!”

my cheeks flush as he winks at me.

“Right then, well it’s a good job I picked up a couple of those Danish pastries you like so much and I’ve got fruit, you know, just in case you wanted a healthy option,”

my shoulders shrug as he holds out his hand to take the basket from me.

“What about the coffee?”

he peers inside the basket, checking out the goods hidden in there.

“Two Starbucks, mines oat milk and you have the blonde roast with normal full fat milk,”

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from giggling as his eyebrows raise in amusement.

“Glad you remembered.

I’m a blonde roast kinda guy these days,”

he laughs as he turns to go back to the kitchen.

“Can you pick up some razors please, Mum? I’m all out.”

I turn to Pat and silently mouth, “What’s going on?”

Pat just smiles broadly before she steps out into the morning sunshine.

“Are you staying there or are we going to eat?”

Jamie shouts through from the kitchen.

“I’m not opposed to eating both of these pastries,”

turning on my heel, I enter the kitchen just in time to see him step outside into the garden.

“Come on, it’s too nice to sit inside.”

He sets the basket down on the patio table and pulls out a chair for me to sit before he settles on the seat opposite.

There are no words spoken as he hands over my pastry and then my takeout coffee.

Next, he pours two glasses of juice and pushes one across the table towards me.

“Thank you, this is really nice of you.

I’m sure I don’t deserve it, but I do appreciate it.”

He lifts his coffee to his mouth and takes a cautious sip, testing the temperature of the liquid.

“God that’s good, beats that shit instant stuff Mum buys,”

I watch as he closes his eyes to savour the taste.

My heart swells a little at the sight of him enjoying something for the first time since my brother died.

Honestly, I think this is the first thing I’ve looked forward to since then, too.

I sip on my drink as I take in the garden around us.

Pat has always been a keen gardener, we might as well have been sitting in the middle of Kew gardens, what with the immaculate lawn and hundreds of flowers that were turning their heads up towards the morning sun.

The floral scent accosts my nostrils as I breath in.

“I always loved this garden when we were little,”

turning to face Jamie as I speak.

“Your mum used to let me pick some of her flowers to take home sometimes.”

I bite into the apricot pastry, savouring the taste as I chew slowly.

“It’s so good to see you,”

tentatively I glance up at him.

The fear of saying the wrong this is deep set, the last thing I want to do is make him regret agreeing to have breakfast with me.

We’ve agreed there would be no talk of his overdose attempt or any mention of therapy.

I’m fine with that.

The further from my mind I can put the image of him laid lifeless in that flat the better.

“Why are you nervous, Scar? It’s just you and me doing something we’ve done loads of times,”

Jamie speaks around the mouthful of food he’s just bitten off.

“You’re edgy and all…I don’t know,”

his shoulders raise on a shrug as he contemplates his next bite.

Why was I nervous? He was right, we’ve sat and shared a meal together loads of times.

We’ve spent thousands of hours passing time and having fun before he joined up, but today feels different; more crucial, like the whole universe pivots on this very moment.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because I’ve never shared breakfast with a man who prefers a blonde roast before,”

my mouth curves upwards in question as I try not to smile.

“You know, all of the men I eat breakfast with are the kind of people who like a robust coffee, something that will wake them up in the morning and give them that kick of adrenalin.”

I lift my cup and drain the last of my oat milk latte, peering at him over the lid.

I wasn’t prepared for the ear-splitting laughter that emerges from him.

Crumbs fly across the table in my direction, as he scrambles to cover his mouth and not choke on his food at the same time.

“You’ve changed, bloody blonde roast, my arse.”

And there we are, back to the easy going banter I’m used to, all thoughts of stepping on eggshells vanish as he tops up my juice.

“That happen a lot these days? Having breakfast dates with men, I mean.

I don’t remember my Scarlett being the type of girl that would waste her time over breakfast with men.

My Scarlett would bin them off in favour of doing something more fun.”

He studies me for a second too long before he stands and asks, “You want another coffee? There’s no oat milk and it’s just shitty instant but I’m going to have one.”

I nod in agreement.

“I’ve decided to leave the army,”

he drops the bombshell as he settles back into the chair opposite me.

“I can’t do it without Tom.

I’ve spoken to HR and set the wheels in motion; in a few months I’ll be a free man.”

His gaze focuses on the bird that has landed on the bird table, pecking at the food Pat has left out for it.

A squirrel lurks on the fence waiting for it to leave so it can have its fill too.

I stare into my coffee cup as I try to rationalise what he’s told me.

Jamie is a soldier, it’s all he’s ever wanted to do and I’m scared he isn’t thinking clearly enough to make such a big decision.

“What did your mum say?”

“I haven’t told her yet, I only made up my mind yesterday after I spoke to one of the lads.

He’s quit after…”

after Tom died, I want to add but I can’t bring myself to say the words.

“Anyway, I don’t want to go back, no amount of talking it over is going to change that decision so she’ll have to get used to it.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any arguments from your mum, I think she’ll be delighted.”

He doesn’t look at me.

“What will you do?”

I hope he has a back up plan, although I’m pretty certain he’s not thought that far ahead.

His fingertips trace the rim of his cup as he thinks about my question.

“No idea if I’m honest.

I’ll figure that out when I need to,”

he turns his attention back to me.

“I thought you’d be more vocal about my choice, at the least I expected a heated discussion.”

“Why? It’s none of my business, it’s your decision but I don’t think you should make any rash decisions just now.

You might regret it.”

Daring to glance up at him I watch as he digests my reaction.

“Can we agree to disagree then? For now, at least.

I think I’m in a good place now, I know this is right for me.

It’s the right time, but my only worry is that Tom will think I’ve let him down,”

now that hurt.

I can’t reconcile the idea that he thinks Tom would be disappointed in him.

My brother would be proud of him.

I’m proud of him.

Tom’s death has rocked our families to the core and there is no going back from that, but the last thing he would want is for any of us to stagnate in our grief.

He’d want us to live.

“You know he would never think you’d let him down.

He’s up there now cracking open a beer and toasting your future, while looking down us and wondering why the hell we’re pussy footing around one another.”

My eyes become glassy and I have to blink several times to fight the tears that threaten to spill.

The last thing Jamie needs is to have to deal with my emotions.

“Chuck me another pastry,”

I try to dissipate the tension, move the conversation away from talk about the army.

“I bought one for Pat but seeing as she’s gone out, I’d hate to see it go to waste,”

Jamie smiles, he knows I’m trying to get back to a light hearted chat about nothing and he obliges, but not before he’s ripped the Danish in half and shoved his part in his mouth whole.

“You’re a pig, you know that?”

Once again, laughter fills the warm summer air.

“What’s wrong, do all these men you have breakfast with not have an appetite?”

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