27
It’s Saturday morning and I’ve finished cleaning Hazel Cottage, my belongings stacked by the door, ready to be loaded into Sarah’s car. I take one last look around the bedroom, the daisy print duvet, the space between the bed and the wardrobe where he stood that first time . . .
And I feel Flynn everywhere. His eyes on my face, warm breath on my body, his teeth gently grazing my neck, and his hands holding mine as he asked me, is this what you want, Gracie?
Is this what you want?
I slouch down on the floor by the wardrobe, my head between my knees, and I let my tears flow. It feels like a dam has been broken, one I’ve been working hard to build for so many years, and I need to let it out before Flynn comes back. Because he’s everything I want, but I have to let him go.
I’ve no idea how long I’ve been sitting here when I hear Sarah call my name.
I pull myself up, close the window, and make my way out on to the landing.
And I have to lean against the wall and count my breaths to stem the tide.
I close my eyes, and there’s Flynn in that towel, with that mischievous smile, singing ‘Good Luck, Babe!’ as if he’s singing it for me.
And I think, no matter how hard I try, no matter how long I wait, I’m not sure I’ll ever stop feeling this.
‘Take your time,’ Sarah says gently when I reach the bottom of the stairs.
‘There’s no rush, I’m free until lunchtime.
’ She’s standing in a stream of morning sunlight pouring through the open door, and I pause on the stairs.
I should have splashed cold water on my face to rinse my dried-in tears, tame the fiery blotches on my cheeks.
But I don’t need to pretend with Sarah, and she wouldn’t want me to.
‘I’m ready,’ I tell her, and she reaches to lift one of my boxes.
I make my way across the room and I’m halfway to the door when my phone pings with a message.
A really long message. From Flynn. He’s called a few times, and I’ve let it ring out, and I haven’t called back.
I haven’t told him I’ve posted him a letter. He should get that next week.
He sent a text on Thursday to wish me luck. I replied: thanks. He messaged back: let me know how it goes, but every time I think about texting or calling, I picture Natalie by his side, watching, and listening, and worrying if I’m about to come between them again. I scroll down through his message.
Hey, Gracie, hope all went well on Thursday.
Sorry I keep missing you, but I know you must be busy with your interview, and the festival, so I understand.
It’s been a battle here but we’re getting there.
Mom is on my side and she’s taking no arguments from Dad about the property.
I’m finding it hard to believe, but she tells me she’s been feeling this way for a while and she’s done living by other people’s rules, and if things keep going the way they are here, she’ll be moving back to Oakwood, and Dad can make up his own mind if he wants to follow.
It feels like a miracle, maybe one of those Samhain spells you told me about.
A reset, a new beginning, just what we all need.
And as I mentioned, everything went well with Natalie, way better than I hoped.
I’ll tell you all about it on Friday when I’m home. Miss you, Flynn, xx
Miss you too. And you’re not even gone. Not really, not forever, not yet.
Then I wonder what he means about Natalie and how it went better than he hoped.
Maybe she hasn’t asked him to cut me out of his life.
But if she hasn’t, that means he hasn’t told her what happened between us.
Yet. And when he does – and I know he will, he’s Flynn, after all – then it’s only a matter of time.
‘I think that’s everything,’ Sarah says as she strides back in and scans the room. ‘Are you leaving the keys?’ She points to the set on the coffee table by my phone.
‘I might hold on to them, in case,’ I say, although in case what, I’m not sure. I’ve cleared and cleaned, and everything of mine is packed into Sarah’s car. ‘Flynn has his set with him, and I can drop these to Pat later in the week.’
‘Okay.’ Sarah nods. ‘Have you got a hoodie or a cardigan? It’s cold out.’
‘Everything’s in the car. I’ll be fine for a few minutes.’
‘Here, borrow this, Flynn won’t mind.’ She lifts his navy plaid shirt from the hook behind the door, the one he wore the day he came to her house to pick me up.
I shake my head in protest, but she throws it straight at me and I grab it with both hands as it lands on my face.
I’m wrapped in a blanket of soft flannel, inhaling pure Flynn, citrus, and forest, and sweat from the last day he wore this, cleaning up the mess the Stringers made.
I bury my head and breathe deep. I want to take it all in, every scent, every memory, the clean and the dirty, the funny and the messy.
I want to tuck them all away and keep them in a safe, quiet corner of my heart so I’ll have something to hold when he’s gone.
Ten minutes later we’re unpacking boxes in my old bedroom, and Sarah holds up my padded orange pumpkin costume with the big yellow grin stretched across the middle. ‘Are you going to wear this to the session on Friday night?’
‘Nope.’ I smile brightly. ‘I don’t feel like wearing it this year.’
I’ll do my best to keep my spirits up for the week ahead so I can keep things on track for the festival.
But everything will be well underway by Friday night, and I don’t think that giant grin will suit the Twilight watch party vibe, and I know it won’t match my mood.
I take a deep breath and think about how to explain.
‘I’m not sure I’ll make it to the Corner Bar for the session,’ I say, keeping my tone casual. ‘I want to give Ella a hand with the movie night.’
‘Seriously?’ Sarah squints at me. ‘But everybody will be at the Corner Bar.’
She flops down on the chair by my old dressing table and fiddles with my make-up brushes, and I get a flash of us dressing for our first Halloween Ball.
Sarah as Katniss Everdeen, and me as Bella Swan, complete with wavy brown wig.
Scott went as Peeta, but when Jamie asked me what I was planning, all I told him was vampires, so he turned up as Lestat from Interview with the Vampire.
I could have told him about Twilight, but I didn’t want him dressing as Edward – that role was already assigned in my head.
Not that Flynn was ever the pale, brooding type, except maybe for that last week before he left.
But the way I felt about him leaving was brooding enough for both of us. Bella coded, for sure.
Sarah watches me and, after a few moments’ silence, she twigs. ‘Oh,’ she says flatly. ‘Because Flynn will be there.’
I nod. ‘I posted my letter and I’ve told him I’ll be in Pat’s with Ella, in case he wants to call over and say goodbye. But if Natalie doesn’t want him to see me then I’m going to respect that and stay out of the way so he can say a proper goodbye to everyone.’
‘Everyone except you.’ She brandishes a foundation brush.
‘Honestly, Gracie, I don’t know which of you is worse.
’ She clamps her lips tight. ‘No, actually, I do. You are. At least, Flynn was only sixteen when he gave up and went along with everything his parents wanted, even though he clearly didn’t want to leave Oakwood. Or you.’
‘He had no choice, Sarah.’ I frown at her.
‘Maybe not, but he could have come back.’
‘No, he couldn’t. Not unless he wanted to abandon his mother.
’ I drop down on my bed and pluck at a loose thread on my patchwork quilt.
‘She was sick, Sarah. Really sick. She’s well now, but it took years.
And Flynn was the one who took care of her, not his father.
Flynn and Natalie. She helped him. She stood by him.
He said he wouldn’t have gotten through it without her. ’
‘Sorry, I didn’t know that.’ Sarah draws back. ‘That must have been hard for him.’
‘It was.’
She drags her knuckle across her lower lip, stares at me thoughtfully before she says, ‘But if Flynn had to go through all that, pretty much on his own, apart from Natalie, then surely that was all the more reason he needed his friends. Needs his friends still.’
‘You heard what Pat said. Natalie was worried we might be more than friends.’ I tug another thread, twist it around my fingers as guilt churns in my stomach. ‘Turns out she was right.’
Sarah shakes her head furiously. ‘No, she wasn’t.
All you had going on back then was a few cards at Christmas.
’ She wields her foundation brush. ‘So, you got together, finally.’ She rolls her eyes.
‘But that was only last week. Flynn and Natalie have been finished for two years. What happened in Hazel Cottage is none of her business.’
I curl my legs underneath me and release a slow breath. ‘I wish it was that simple, but it’s not. I still have feelings for him, way beyond friendship.’ I hug my cushion tight to my chest. ‘Our shag Flynn plan didn’t work. I didn’t get him out of my system, and I’m not sure I ever will.’
Sarah stands and walks over to sit down beside me, and says in a low, quiet voice, ‘And what about how Flynn feels? Doesn’t he get any say in all of this?’
I drop my head to my chest, and my voice comes out a shaky whisper. ‘I know how he feels, Sarah. I heard him say it out loud. He lost the woman he loved once and he’s not going to let that happen again.’
Sarah rubs my arm gently. ‘You lost the boy you loved too, Gracie.’
She stands and makes for the door. She’s supposed to meet Scott for lunch, and I know she’s running late. She turns in the doorway and peers down at me, eyes soft but focused.
‘Are you going to let that happen again?’
I don’t answer, because what choice do I have? Fight Natalie for him? Ask him to choose my friendship over winning back the woman he loves? And hey, maybe I’ll throw in a few benefits to help him get over the loss this time around.
Instead, I say, ‘You’d better go, Sarah, you’ll be late. I’ll call over later for my stuff.’
She sighs. ‘Okay, I’ll text when I’m home.’ She scratches at her forehead. ‘Just think about what I said, please.’
Her brows lift in a plea, and I nod. I will think about it. It’s pretty much all I have been thinking about since Flynn left, and I keep coming up with the same answer. I don’t want to lose him, but I care too much to hurt him, and if I have to choose between my happiness and his, I choose his.