Chapter Twenty-Three
A knock on the bedroom door wakes me, although I spent most of the night tossing and turning or staring up into the blackout-curtained darkness.
Three quarters of the duvet is on the floor and the last corner is clutched in my hands under my chin and covering the top of my shoulders.
I’m not cold because I’m still fully dressed in yesterday’s clothes.
Reeni pokes her head around the door. ‘Are you awake?’
‘Yes,’ I say, shuffling to sit up. ‘Have you any news? How’s Sophie?’
‘Aaron called at around three to say they were taking her to hospital.’
‘What time is it?’ The blackout curtains make it hard to gauge the time. I grab my phone off the bedside table to check. ‘It’s half nine. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘You were fast asleep. There was nothing you could have done. And I figured you’d had enough stress for the night.
He’s just called me there again to say she’s had an OK night.
Milo’s staying with her, but Jackson’s left to check in on Tippi and then come here.
He shouldn’t be long. I’ll get you a coffee. ’
She pulls the door closed behind her and I sink my face into the cool cotton of the covers for another few minutes.
I’m relieved his mum is doing OK, but I’m not ready to go over it all again and in the cold light of day, look into his eyes as he judges me.
I’d do anything to turn the clock back and keep it all to myself.
I can’t face changing, so I keep my jeans and scarlet blouse on and go to find Reeni in the kitchen.
‘Here you go.’ She hands me a mug of steaming coffee.
‘Thanks.’ I wrap both hands around it and go to sink into the sofa.
Reeni sits next to me with her own mug, curling her legs up onto the seat cushions. ‘I’ll have this and then I have to get back to Olly. His nan has an appointment she has to get to. Will you be OK?’
‘Yes. Thanks for staying.’ I pull a cushion onto my lap and rest my mug on it. ‘I don’t know if I can face him, Reeni.’
‘Don’t be daft.’
I haven’t taken even the tiniest sip from my mug because I feel sick and I don’t think I can swallow anything.
‘What did you tell him? That you had a drink at the bloody party. Show me a teenager that didn’t do something stupid. He’s not going to hate you for that.’
‘But it was all my fault. It wasn’t one drink. I was so drunk I can’t even remember how I got to yours.’ I tilt my head back against the top of the sofa and screw my eyes tight shut.
‘You’ve blown this up out of all proportion, Ellie. I know it eats away at you, the fact you’ve never told him. But I’m sure he’s fine with it.’ She shrugs as if to dismiss it. ‘It was a party. You had a bit too much to drink. Teenagers do idiotic things.’
‘Yeah. Maybe,’ I mutter.
I’ve never told her it was the reason I lost our baby.
I’ve never told anyone until last night.
Whenever Mum tried to broach how I was dealing with what happened, I avoided it by any means possible.
Walking out on her, refusing to talk and even threatening to do something stupid, so in the end she left the subject alone as it seemed the best way to deal with it.
Reeni finishes her coffee and promises to call in later with Olly and take me out for lunch before heading off back home, leaving me pacing around my tiny kitchen.
I feel like I’m caged and on a countdown to something catastrophic.
I need to get out of these four walls. And if I’m accidentally not in when Jackson calls, that would be unfortunate, right?
When I was inside, I’d paid no attention to the weather, and now I’m standing outside my front door, the change is striking.
The stifling humidity of the last few days has gone and the strong breeze ruffling my hair is cool and spit-spots of rain are hitting my skin.
I haven’t picked up a coat and I’m not going back in for one.
Instead, I ignore the droplets and walk down onto the beach.
A pain is splitting my brain like a chisel is being driven through it, and I need to clear my head.
I sit with my back to the dunes and hug my knees to my chest. I don’t want to go back to my house and face everyone.
I want to run away and hide. Be one of those people that goes out for milk and never comes back.
I rest my chin on my knees. The dark clouds are angry and low enough that they’re touching the sea and the rain is getting heavier.
It’s soaking my shoulders and dripping off the end of my hair.
I try to empty my head. Make it blank. I can’t. I can hear him saying, ‘We need to talk.’ Every time I hear it, it sounds more and more menacing. He’s never going to forgive me for what I did.
I jerk to my feet. I need to walk. I turn in the direction of Thorbridge. The rain is coming down in earnest now. Large plump raindrops which explode on landing and sting my skin.
Putting one foot in front of the other is giving me some thinking space.
I’ve come to terms with, at least I’m pretending I have, that because of what I told him, Jackson will never want to be with me again.
The rain has seeped through the cotton of my blouse now and it’s sticking to me like a second skin.
I gloss over how uncomfortable it is and tuck my chin to my chest and concentrate on the way my trainers crunch with every step on the damp sand.
I’m coming up to the beach huts when I notice the little black dog sitting by the front door of Daisy. She sees me at the same time and comes bounding towards me, running quite happily on three legs, her tail upright like a mast.
The rain has slicked the hair to my head and loose strands smart as they’re lashed across my face in the driving wind.
‘Tippi. What are you doing out here?’ I look around us, half afraid of seeing Jackson, but we’re on our own. The beach is empty. It’s the kind of weather that sees all the tourists holed up in local cafés with steaming mugs of hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream and marshmallows.
I look back down at Tippi, who’s come to meet me. She’s standing near the water, her tail wagging hard. She keeps looking up at me and then out to sea. The wind has whipped up the waves and the dark blue water is choppy and dangerous-looking.
I realise a second too late what she’s been trying to ask me because as I bend to grab her, she darts away and runs headlong into the sea.
‘No,’ I shout, but my words are dashed away in the wind and Tippi doesn’t even twitch her head in acknowledgement.
I run towards the edge of the waves, which are breaking on the sand. The rainwater is splattering my face, making it hard to focus. ‘Tippi. Come here. Come back.’
She has no such intentions and is still cantering through the shallow waters and then, with one final leap, she bounds over the white of a breaking wave and begins swimming.
I think back to Jackson’s last words about her and the fact she isn’t supposed to be in the sea yet.
I watch her, my heart beginning to pound harder and faster.
She looks stable enough. The sea is tossing her around a little, but her head is out of the water, the pink of her tongue striking against the moody black of the water.
Without warning, a larger wave rolls forwards and for a split second, she disappears.
My chest swells and I yell at the sea. ‘Tippi. My god. Tippi.’ After what feels like forever, she reappears, except this time she looks uncomfortable and has turned her head to look at me.
Before I can do anything, another large wave lands and sweeps her further away.
I look around me, desperate for someone to call, someone to come and rescue her so I don’t have to.
But there’s no one. Tippi is rolled forwards on a swell of water before being pushed even further out again.
I make a spur of the moment decision and kick off my shoes and roll up my jeans, then take a tentative step into the foaming water.
The sea is ice cold and my toes clench upwards with shock.
A high-pitched yap drives me forwards again.
With each step, the icy water rises until it’s reached my knees and I pause again.
This is deeper than when I was with Jackson.
I take one last look around, but the beach is still devoid of people.
I take another step forwards. The sea rolls Tippi towards me and I reach for her.
Her wiry hair brushes my outstretched fingertips, but I can’t quite pull her to me.
One more step should do it.
I lift my foot to place it down, expecting to feel the sand squidgy between my toes, except there is no floor.
My weight is unbalanced and I tip forwards, flinging my arms out to grab something to stop me falling.
But this is the sea. My hands slice straight through to nothing.
I’m plunged feet first into the salty water, my legs straining to touch the seabed as the ice-cold water envelops me.
My big toe scrapes the sand and there’s a rush of relief as I raise my mouth out of the water and gasp at the air.
The salty sea stings my eyes and then another wave rolls in and I’m under the surface again.
I try to raise my arms above my head, but it’s like waving through treacle and the thud of my heartbeat fills my ears.
Except it’s not mine. It’s galloping along way too fast.
I stop moving to listen and my body is rolled this way and that with the motion of the sea.
The heartbeat continues to drum. Its rhythm is vaguely familiar and suddenly I’m floating through the water, listening to her again like the very first time I did.
Staying as still as possible while the midwife found her heartbeat and I’m staring at the screen, at the tiny flashing blip that was her heart.
The image goes fuzzy and I try to hang on to it. To her.
The waves roll me this way and that until I don’t know which way is up. And I’m not sure I care.
So, this must be it.
I’ve often wondered how it all ends and now I have my answer. Maybe it’s what I’ve deserved all along after what I did. My lungs feel like they are going to explode and my head is about to split in two with the pressure. Then there’s nothing.