18. Sarah
18. Sarah
I was going to talk to him this morning with a clear head, explain that I have to get things straight with Danny first. Or as straight as they can be with a man who has had his world cruelly pulled down around him.
Danny has already suffered so much. He might not understand what I have to say. He might not even care. But at least I will have tried, and that’s the least he deserves.
And if I don’t do it this way, I’m no better than my dad. I’ve always promised myself that I would never play with people’s hearts in the glib way that he did. In fact, I’m worse than Dad. At least Mum wasn’t sick when Dad cheated on her.
Anyway, it seems I won’t get a chance to explain any of this to Carl, because before I get downstairs he’s already left.
‘You’ve just missed him,’ Jenni says, holding out a fresh cup of coffee.
My heart sinks.
I think of his desolate expression as I pulled away from him last night. What if he believes I still have feelings for Danny? Or thinks that he is the one coming between us.
The truth is, things weren’t right between us, even before Danny got ill. I tried to explain it to Carl once, a long time ago – that afternoon in the camp launderette – how my feelings for Danny had changed, how we’d grown apart. But I didn’t get a chance to tell him then either.
‘Toast?’ Jenni asks.
I shake my head.
‘Is everything all right, pet?’
Cherub sits down on the sofa, balancing a bowl of cereal. He pauses between mouthfuls. ‘Carl seemed out of sorts too. Dashed off like the house was on fire.’
I think of Carl kneeling next to me last night. Wiping away my tears, holding me in his arms. It felt so good to talk to him – to someone who really understands.
Last night I saw a different side to him. A willingness to open up. Back in camp, apart from in the immediate aftermath of Fridge’s death, he always shied away from any sort of serious conversation. Stuck to the safe banter the soldiers all adopted to keep their private terrors at bay.
But yesterday, for the first time, he let me in. A secret thrill runs through me as I remember him cradling my face in his hands. But then the image dissolves and I see him now, alone on the train, not knowing what he did wrong, and I feel a sort of wrenching pain in my chest.
‘Hey,’ Jenni says, reaching for a pile of papers on the kitchen dresser. ‘I meant to show you these yesterday. I found them when I was looking up addresses for the wedding invitations.’
She hands me the bundle. On top is a photograph, the one that was taken on the day we all did the camp’s 5K Park Run.
‘See how young we all look,’ she says. ‘I can’t believe it was only four years ago. It feels like a lifetime.’
She looks at Cherub fondly. ‘I only signed up for that race because you told me you loved running. We’d just met, so I was still pretending to like the same things. Honest to God, I think if you suggested I went for a jog with you now, I’d punch you.’
Cherub laughs. ‘If it makes you feel any better, I only signed up because I wanted you to think I was sporty and dynamic.’
He wipes away a dribble of cereal on his chin with the back of his hand, and we all laugh.
‘I better get going,’ Cherub says, getting to his feet.
Jenni hands him a sandwich wrapped in tin foil. She’s made it for his lunch, and I think how nice it must be to have someone love you enough to fill in the small details like that for you. Someone on the sidelines, always looking out for you.
Cherub kisses us both on the top of the head, and Jenni follows him out into the hall to say goodbye. Noah, Toby and the dog trail after her.
‘Help yourself to more coffee,’ she calls out as the front door closes behind Cherub. ‘I’m going to get these two nippers dressed.’
The kitchen is suddenly silent. I pour myself another coffee, sit back down at the kitchen table and stare at the photograph. I smile at the sight of Squadron in that tiny T-shirt, at Jenni and Cherub, and Assami with his huge smile. At Danny, Fridge, Carl and Jobbo. At Caroline, with her long, glossy, poker-straight hair braided and pinned in two neat, dark brown plaits on top of her head.
Danny looks so handsome, it makes my heart ache to look at him. His black hair is glinting in the sunshine, his shoulders are squared, his earnest face staring straight ahead at the camera.
Finally, I look at me. At the way my face is turned towards Carl. I remember how badly I wanted to impress him on the day. How all I thought about during the race was catching up with him. I didn’t give Danny a backwards glance.
Suddenly my skin prickles with guilt.
It’s not just that I nearly betrayed Danny last night. It’s that I’ve wanted to betray him for so long.