Chapter 20 #2
‘Hey, it’s okay.’ I reached for his hand.
‘The simple truth is that you’re still here.
I’m still here. Our lives have to go on.
We have to live with the loss of Bronte.
You’re right: from the moment she was born, in fact from the moment I found out I was pregnant, she became the centre of my world. ’
‘So what are you going to do?’
I shrugged. ‘I’m still working on that, but at least I am working on it now instead of pretending everything’s okay.’
We rounded a bend and came to another lookout place, smaller this time, and stood shoulder to shoulder looking out across the mountains.
‘I feel so guilty, you know? I got up and walked away from that accident. I’m alive and she’s not.’
I met his eye. ‘You know deep down that that’s not something to feel guilty about, don’t you?’
He gazed out at the green valley below us. ‘Do I? It was guilt that kept me from being in touch with you too. I thought you’d find it hard to see me still here when—’ His voice cracked and he shook his head, as if impatient with himself. ‘Sorry.’
‘Look, I feel guilty too for what I said about her gap-year plans. The final time we were ever together, and we argued. I’ll never forgive myself.’
He frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘She didn’t tell you?’
‘She phoned me on her way home from your house and told me what you’d said. She didn’t mention a row though.’
‘What did she say?’ I asked, bewildered.
‘Let me think. Oh yeah.’ He smiled wistfully.
‘I can’t remember the exact words, but she said something along the lines of: Mum’s so smart.
She wants me to think it all through for one more week before I commit to taking the gap year.
She reminded me how much I’d wanted the Saatchi job and how much I’d be giving up if I went travelling now.
And if I’m being honest, I have gone a bit crazy with some of my plans.
I’ve already emailed Saatchi about deferring my start date, so it’s too late for that.
But I am going to think hard about some of the … er … other stuff. ’
Harry stopped abruptly, looking a bit shifty.
‘Other stuff?’ I prompted. ‘What do you mean?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘To do with her travel plans. You want me to tell you?’
I sucked in a breath. I was curious, but the not knowing had its benefits too. ‘Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know.’
Harry smiled at my indecision. ‘I helped her with the research. I could tell you about the whole trip, but you said you’re enjoying turning each page and learning new things. If you come across something you don’t want to do, you can always choose not to do it.’
‘Good thinking. I’ll do that.’
He seemed relieved. ‘But to go back to feeling guilty about that day. Honestly, don’t.
If anything it reinforced how supportive you always were.
She said it would have been so easy for you to go along with her ideas and not challenge her.
But she said that’s not what you do; you face up to life’s challenges.
And you held a mirror up to her so she could face hers too.
There had been aspects of her trip she wasn’t sure about; talking to you made her really consider everything.
So you see, there’s nothing to feel bad about. ’
‘Really?’ My voice cracked and my chest began to burn. ‘Do you really think that?’
‘Maggie, oh God, I’m sorry.’ He grabbed hold of me and held me tight. ‘I didn’t mean to make you cry.’
I hadn’t even been aware I was crying, but now with my cheek pressed into his shoulder, I felt hot tears soaking his T-shirt.
I made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob and released myself from his crushing hug. ‘I know it doesn’t look like it, but you’ve made me the happiest I’ve been since she died.’
‘Okay, wow, I’ll have to take your word for that.’ He gave me a wry smile, fetching a packet of tissues from his rucksack and handing them to me.
I blew my nose and wiped my eyes as a small tour group joined us. Embarrassed, I stepped to one side and gazed at the view, avoiding eye contact with them. Harry took photos and even offered to take one of the group for them.
‘Do you want to know why I like it here so much?’ he asked once they’d gone.
‘Go on.’
‘Because so much of this area of New South Wales was devastated by bush fires a few years ago.’
I’d seen it on the news and been reduced to tears watching animals being rescued from the flames, but I hadn’t made the connection that the Blue Mountains had been one of the worst-hit parts of the country. ‘That was heartbreaking to see.’
‘When I first arrived in Australia, I was a mess,’ Harry told me.
‘I was up all hours of the night, pacing, too wired to sleep, but too depressed in the day to get out of bed. I’d lost my appetite and couldn’t even think about the next day, let alone the next week or month.
So my uncle brought me up here. He told me that for a while the beautiful place we’re looking at now was too sick for life to continue.
Trees reduced to charcoal, wildlife decimated, hope extinguished.
He said it was impossible to believe it would heal.
But it did eventually. Slowly, bit by bit, month by month.
There are bound to be scars, but Uncle Pete reckons eventually those scars will be invisible to anyone who doesn’t know what happened.
’ He took a breath. ‘He said my scars would be the same.’
‘Your uncle sounds like a very wise man.’
He laughed. ‘Uncle Pete is one of a kind. I’m hoping you’ll meet him. He’s invited you to have dinner with us tonight. Will you come?’
I’d be staying at the guest house for another night, but I hadn’t made any dinner plans. ‘I’d love that. Thank you.’
We picked up our bags, ready to go back the way we’d come. Harry put a hand on my shoulder and made me turn to take in the view one last time.
‘If the Blue Mountains can recover from trauma like that then so can we, Maggie,’ he said, giving me a squeeze.
I’d never felt as removed from my normal life as I did in that moment: on the opposite side of the world, dwarfed by the most incredible scenery.
I felt small, but at the same time brave and powerful.
My physical journey here might have been easy enough on planes and trains, but the mental load had been heavy – was still heavy.
But Harry was right, we had life and we had hope and the rest would come in time.
I met his blue eyes, so earnest and brave, and smiled. ‘We can, Harry. We bloody can.’