Chapter 41
I am on the train and on my way to take Aunt Polly to chemo.
My head is pressed against the window, and I’m thinking about the dreamy kiss I shared with Oliver at the door before I left. It was punctuated with brief pauses that heightened my anticipation. When I finally pulled away, he grinned and said, ‘I miss your lips already.’
Even though we have kept the pillow wall in place, our kisses in the evening and in the morning are becoming more passionate. At some point, I am going to have to think about taking things to the next level.
Yesterday’s embarrassing moment in the bookshop rushes back and makes me shudder.
While Miranda was discussing outfits for a first date with her online stylist in the back room, I managed to sneak a book behind the till.
It was titled Losing Your Virginity – An Adult’s Guide.
This is one of the many advantages of working in a bookshop.
Information on any topic is never far away.
I was three chapters deep when a customer asked me to help him find a book on medieval myths.
After locating the book, I gulped and returned to the counter.
Miranda was casually flicking through the book. My cheeks have never felt so hot.
‘Nelly, if there’s anything personal you want to talk to me about, I am here for you,’ she whispered as I approached. I wanted the ground to open and for me to fall through the hole. ‘It’s for a customer,’ I said, thinking on my feet. She gave me an odd look which I ignored.
Apart from that little incident, the last few days with Oliver have been idyllic. He has cooked us incredible meals, cuddled me in every part of the flat, kissed me goodnight, and made me belly laugh with his funny tales over the pillow wall.
‘Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?’ I am yanked out of my thoughts by a young woman who wants to sit on the seat next to me.
The train jolts, and as I am thrown forward, our hands brush.
Once the light fades, I see her crying as she watches a young man pack a suitcase.
On the coffee table in front of her is a magazine cover featuring her man.
The headline reads: The Export – How a new British actor became Hollywood’s most wanted.
He is telling her not to cry and that she will one day meet someone new.
The train carriage becomes muffled, and an uncomfortable feeling passes over me.
Oliver is already a bestselling author and one day he could achieve bigger fame and fortune.
How would I cope if, like the man in the vision, Oliver decides I am not part of his glitzy world and that he wants to move to Hollywood alone?
I get off the train feeling anxious. Since an early-morning swim is now part of my routine, I leave my clothes behind a rock and enter the water.
Today, the sea is a brilliant royal-blue colour and shimmers in the early morning light.
The waves are small and playful. Once fully submerged, I let the water hold me, and I think about the vision I saw on the train.
I can’t control Oliver’s career, and if that happened, it would be sad, but as Eva said, it would be survivable.
There would be a period of eating cereal, binge-watching sad films, and…
this – swimming. I would somehow get through it.
There would be tears, but I would survive.
A little wave splashes over me which makes me smile.
The water will always be here for me. I do need to think about what I will do in the winter when I can’t swim in the sea.
I make a mental note to check the times of the local swimming pool near my flat.
Once again, the sea carries away my worries, and I start to feel lighter again.
I smile up at the blue sky. ‘Mum, if you’re watching me from heaven,’ I whisper, ‘I have finally returned to swimming.’
* * *
It’s the middle of the afternoon. Aunt Polly went for a lie-down when we got home from chemo.
It went smoothly, but there was a new lady having chemo, and I thought she looked like Hilary, with a sleek, bobbed brown hairstyle and enviable cheekbones.
I don’t think I was the only one who recognised the similarity, as my aunt kept glancing at her.
Mentioning Hilary’s name only makes my aunt agitated so I kept my thoughts to myself.
I have Mum’s notebook on my lap. I am about to dive in, but the corner of Aunt Polly’s photo album is jutting out underneath the coffee table and has caught my eye.
I put the notebook to one side and pick up the album.
The lady from the hospital is still on my mind and so too is the way my aunt kept looking at her.
I recall Oliver encouraging me to find out what happened between my aunt and her best friend Hilary.
I turn to the back page. The sight of Aunt Polly and Hilary both getting ready for their epic road trip makes me smile.
I feel behind the photo. The envelope is there. Taking a deep breath, I slide it out.
My heart is pounding. I shouldn’t be snooping into Aunt Polly’s private life, but as Oliver said they could have fallen out over something silly, and that would be a waste of a friendship.
He is right about Aunt Polly being special to me.
I will do what I can to help her through this difficult time.
And there is only one person in the world who can make everything better – Hilary.
This envelope could hold the answer to the mystery of what happened between them.
With a trembling hand, I open the envelope and pull out a letter written on posh cream paper. I instantly recognise Hilary’s swirly handwriting.
It has a postmark from ten years ago. That was when they fell out.
I take a deep breath and read…
Dear Polly,
Please don’t throw this away.
I never wanted us to fall out like this.
You won’t answer my calls, reply to my emails or write back.
This is all my fault, and I’m sorry for the hurt I’ve caused you.
Our road trip was special, and I will never forget what happened between us. I don’t regret what happened. I don’t regret kissing you, and I don’t regret the nights we spent together in bed. Those memories will stay with me forever.
If things had been different, I would have leapt at the chance to start a life with you. But I have my girls to think about, and I have Mike, who wants a second chance. You know how my girls have dreamed of Mike and I getting back together. I want to make them happy.
You will always have a special place in my heart.
I love you, Polly. Always have and always will.
Hilary x
I stare in disbelief at what I’ve just read. I reread it. After pinching myself to check that I wasn’t dreaming, I read the letter for a third time.
Aunt Polly and Hilary – really?
I wasn’t expecting that. They were more than best friends. I knew they were close, but I never thought it was anything more.
The words in her note sink in.
Hilary broke Aunt Polly’s heart by giving her husband a second chance. She’d put her family first.
I’ve been staring into space for ages. Is this why Aunt Polly has been telling me for years that she doesn’t believe in love any more?
This must have hurt Aunt Polly.
My heart is hammering away inside my chest. I am in shock.
I put the letter back in the envelope and stick it back behind the photo.
Knowing that Hilary hurt my aunt makes me feel sad.
I sink into the sofa. What happened between them happened a long time ago, and I need to remember that.
My aunt has rebuilt her life and forgotten about Hilary.
However, I think back to my aunt in the hospital.
The way she kept glancing at the woman who looked like Hilary makes me question whether she is over her.
My mind wanders. I wonder if Hilary and her husband Mike got their second chance. Did Hilary send more letters to my aunt? My breath catches in my throat. The memory of the letters in the baking drawer comes back to me.
There’s no sound from upstairs. She must still be asleep. I open the drawer and reach inside for the pile of letters. They all have an Exeter postmark. My heart starts to thud. I recognise Hilary’s swirly writing.
I take the most recent envelope which is dated a month ago. It’s been opened. I pull out the letter inside. I take a deep breath and read.
Dear Polly,
I have rewritten this letter five or six times. You always teased me about my perfectionism.
The truth is, I think about you a lot.
Mike and I split up again years ago. He moved out. The girls were upset, but I think they have realised I got back with him for the wrong reasons.
Polly, I love you, and I don’t think I have ever stopped loving you.
I have a horrid feeling you will read this letter and throw it away.
I heard through a contact on Facebook that you’ve not been well, and it breaks my heart to think about you being so poorly.
I LOVE YOU, POLLY. ALWAYS HAVE. NEVER STOPPED.
Hilary x
As I read the letter for a second time, I recall what Oliver said about Juliet and love lingering and waiting for years.
I put the letters back in the drawer and decide to talk to Oliver later.
Before I leave for the train, Aunt Polly hands me the car keys for Nigella. ‘Why are you giving me these?’ I ask.
‘I’ve been doing some thinking. That car sits outside my house day in day out.
I only use it for the hospital, and you drive it all the time.
Also, I think it would be quicker and less hassle for you to drive here on the days you come to visit.
What I am saying is, Nelly, take Nigella and put her to good use. ’
This is a generous offer, but Nigella is problematic at the best of times, and I think she will cause more hassle than the train. ‘It’s okay, you keep her here.’
My aunt shakes her head. ‘Please, Nelly, it would make me happy.’
I silently let out a groan. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Nigella will be excited at the prospect of spending more time with you.’