Epilogue
Faye - Six Months Later
Faye hopped from one foot to the other, nerves and excitement flitting through her veins. Around her, the crowd buzzed with the same mix of anticipation and eagerness, looking at the screen above their heads, waiting for the countdown over the speakers.
She’d warmed up, stretched, and used an extra hold seal on her bag. She was ready. It had been nine months of training in the making. Nine months of sore muscles, blisters, and bag malfunctions. Nine months of pushing herself and proving she could do anything if she kept going.
Nine months leading up to her first half-marathon—and six months of dating Diana.
Faye grinned. It’d been the best six months of her life—and not just because she’d been having the best sex of her existence, but because she’d never felt so confident in her own skin.
Not just confident, but proud too. She’d spent a lot of her time after her operation locked away in her bedroom, wishing she could be more like those women she admired.
The Emmaline Pankhursts, the Rosa Parks, the Ada Lovelaces, not realising she had those qualities, just in different Faye ways.
In the beginning, it had been so easy to focus on the negative, especially when it was permanently strapped to her abdomen in a constant reminder, but accepting her circumstances—actually being thankful for the way her ostomy had changed her life, in all the bad, good, and in between—made a huge difference.
The countdown sounded, as the enthusiastic woman on the mic waved her arms in the air. “Ten…nine…”
The runners around her started jumping, shaking adrenaline out of their limbs and pinning their gazes forward. A man dressed in a Luigi costume gave out high-fives to his neighbours as the crowd’s cheers grew louder.
Faye glanced down at her blue Sandy Springs Sanctuary T-shirt, checking the number was still attached.
She’d raised almost ￡3,000 for the sanctuary so far, with her employers sharing her efforts on social media.
Riley had told her it would be a huge help with their plans to expand and continue protecting the island’s biodiversity.
She just had to run the damn thing now; she couldn’t let them down.
“Six…five…”
She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs, letting the cool air calm her. She could do this. One step at a time.
I’m a fucking elephant.
“Three…two…one!”
Smoke fired from either side of the banner overhead, and the people gathered behind the barriers cheered and whistled as the runners started to move. A space opened, and Faye took her first steps forward, trying to settle into a steady pace.
She moved with the group as the slapping of feet hit the tarmac, high-fiving outstretched hands from the supporters, letting the energy fuel her. She’d need more of that for later.
The first few miles were easy. The crowd scattered along the route, clapping and holding up handmade signs, encouraging them to keep going. Faye passed the first water station, giving her best smile to the volunteers with outstretched bottles of water.
The roads wound through the city, the traffic lights still blinking their colourful sequences like their own form of encouragement. Someone on a microphone sang “Sweet Caroline” from the pavement, making her grin and mumble the words in a breathy attempt at singing.
Her mind jumped to Diana. It’d been a freezing December night when Faye had taken her to watch the Lionesses at Wembley.
Diana hadn’t much interest in the sport, but when Faye explained how the women had triumphed and fought against a system that was always discouraging women from playing football, she warmed to the idea.
Seeing her cheering along with the crowd, wrapped up warm in a black wool scarf, leaning in close to ask about the rules, singing “Sweet Caroline” at the top of her lungs, made Faye’s heart swell.
Doing ordinary things with Diana was always anything but ordinary.
The distance between them was challenging at times, but the three-hour train journey meant they could spend long weekends together, and even more time together during the half-term.
Faye took on more fieldwork in the south, so they could relax in the evenings in Diana’s apartment, and Diana dropped some working hours. It worked—but Faye always wanted more.
She wanted to wake up with Diana every morning, kiss her before sleep every night. To share breakfast and coffee, and cook with her guilty playlist of nineties boy bands playing loud. She wanted to make Diana’s space their space. To get a cat or four. To build a whole life with her.
She loved living with Quin—don’t get her wrong.
The Drew Barrymore marathon was still underway, with different snacks of choice each week.
Her current number one? 50 First Dates and a sharing bag of Skittles.
Quin had got a job at a local supermarket and had already charmed themselves into a promotion.
It suited them well, chatting for a living.
Ever since they’d cut contact with their dad, they’d been a lot happier.
Her own parents had taken Quin under their wing, inviting them round for tea whenever Faye was away with work.
The onlookers cheered as a group of runners dressed like the Teletubbies passed her, their colourful antennae bouncing with every step.
Faye’s feet continued pounding the pavement, her breathing pulling the fresh air into her lungs.
The road led under a bridge and curled back around as she overtook the giant seven-mile sign. She was over halfway.
Come on.
She passed another water station, accepted a bottle from a smiling volunteer and took a big swig.
The cool liquid eased her dry and itchy throat.
The runners flocked forward, the beating drum from a distant brass band marching them on.
The thump grew louder, pushing her feet into the ground, taking her closer to the finish line.
As she approached the eleven-mile sign, Faye wanted to collapse. Her legs ached, her lungs burned, her feet had slowed to a pace where everyone was overtaking her. Two more miles? She couldn’t do it. They’d have to come and peel her off the tarmac.
Everything hurt. Why on earth did she willingly sign up for this?
The weight of her familiar against her sternum suddenly pulled her into focus. The island needed this money; the animals did. She wasn’t going to give up at the last hurdle. She was resilient. A fucking elephant. Strong and powerful.
She fixed her mind on the finish line. On Diana waiting for her. Her dads and Quin.
She forced her feet forward, keeping them moving. Just don’t stop. She glanced at the people beside her, also red-faced and panting. They were all in this together, each person’s determination encouraging the other. Just don’t stop.
On the pavement, a choir wearing matching black robes bobbed side to side, singing “Dog Days Are Over” by Florence & The Machine.
You can do this.
She ran past the last water break. Past the last sign indicating the final stretch. The road unfolded in front of her, the passersby clapping and whooping as she drew closer and closer. The finish line in sight.
Music blared from the speakers ahead, growing louder with every step. One, two. One, two. The rhythm carried her forward, her feet and muscles aching, sweat stinging her eyes—until finally, she crossed the line and threw her arms up in the air.
“I did it!” She turned, breathless but still smiling, and high-fived the people closest to her. “We did it!”
Her legs burned, still feeling like they were running ahead of her body. She checked her bag—still attached, no leaks—and accepted her medal. It was heavier than she’d imagined. She immediately tossed it around her neck, beaming with pride.
Lungs heaving, she scanned the busy crowd of finishers hugging family and friends, and then her eyes landed on Diana, who was running towards her. They came together, wrapping around each other, happiness spilling out of them both.
“I’m so proud of you!” Diana kissed her cheek.
Her dads followed with Quin in tow, pulling her into a big group embrace.
“Oof.” Quin chuckled, giving her arm a squeeze. “You stink.”
“You run a half-marathon and see how wonderful you smell,” she teased, unable to knock the grin from her face. Even when she spotted a familiar blonde walking up to her.
“Congrats, Faye,” Molly said, offering her a gap-toothed smile and tapping her awkwardly on the shoulder. “You finally did it.”
“Molly… What are you doing here?” Faye shot a glance at Diana.
“Don’t be too pleased to see me.” She flipped her curls over her shoulder. “Well, it’s a momentous occasion, so it feels appropriate for a family affair, don’t you agree?” At Faye’s open mouth, Molly nudged her. “Come on, Faye. I’m pulling your leg.”
Quin observed the exchange with far too much glee before clapping their hands together. “Right, everyone. Pint?”
* * *
The pub nearby was heaving with patrons, medal-wearers in Lycra, and family and friends clinking glasses.
A man cracked open a sharing bag of cheese and onion crisps, offering them around, occasionally throwing a couple to the two greying spaniels lying by his feet.
Chatter and laughter hummed around them, while the bartenders were rushed off their feet.
Faye and the others huddled around a sticky table, next to a Peppa Pig and Cinderella with a terribly tangled blonde wig.
Lukas raised his gin and tonic to the centre of the table, meeting Faye’s gaze with his kind eyes.
“As parents, one of the worst things in the world is to watch your child suffer and not be able to do anything about it. When you were rushed into hospital, David and I feared the worst. Waiting for you to come out of that emergency surgery was…” He shook his head, pressing his lips together.
David grasped his hand and gave it a squeeze. “It was pure hell.”
Faye swallowed, her own emotions rising to the surface. She hated seeing her dads upset.