Chapter 17 #3
With the day finally waning, Gemma pushed open her bedroom door, revisiting the thoughts which had been in her head that morning when she’d left it.
She had built the day up into something to be feared, a passage of time to be bravely borne without any expectation that it might be pleasurable in any way.
And yet a simple act of kindness had transformed it.
She stopped, checking herself. Because it hadn’t just been one act of kindness which had transformed it, it had been two…
Leo had shared the fact that it was her birthday, knowing, even if he made no reference to it, that it would be hard for her.
And he had done so because he knew that Willow and Rowan would never let the information slip by unacted upon.
And their kindnesses had multiplied, filling the day with joy, its effect intensified simply because it had been so unexpected.
She smiled to herself. There was a lot to think about.
A sudden chime alerted her to an arriving message on her phone.
Her bedroom seemed to be one of the few places in the house where she could reliably pick up any signal, and she realised how little she thought to check for them now.
Whereas once her phone had been a constant presence in her hand, now she rarely gave it any thought. She tapped a finger on the screen.
Happy birthday, Gemma!
I can’t believe I’m not there or you’re not here…
I think this must be the first one in yonks we haven’t spent some part of together.
Although… do you remember that year we got so drunk one lunchtime, I fell asleep at my desk and by some miracle you managed to wake me up a split second before Abby caught me?
That was a close call! We’re getting old though, girlfriend, I don’t think I could do that now…
I really hope you have a happy day. I keep picturing you miserable and wading through mud, but if I get my way, you’ll be back in the land of the living soon!
Shiny Rachel has messed up big time – and nothing to do with me before you ask – but Abby was LIVID!
She didn’t ask my opinion, obviously, but I let it slip that sometimes experience is way better than youthful arrogance, however well meaning…
Tell me all your news. Is Leo still there? He had better be behaving himself.
Anyway, gotta go, just wanted to say I hope you have an amazing day, you truly deserve it, Gemma. I know this one will be difficult for you, but next year will be better, I promise.
Lots of love xxx
P.S. Sorry not to send your present but I didn’t think it was the kind of thing you’d want to have there, just in case it got ruined. I’ll give it to you when I see you – soon!
Gemma reread the message a second time, but the flicker of irritation was still there.
Granted, she hadn’t been able to message Cat much, but she had told her once or twice now how excited she was about the garden.
And yet Cat still seemed determined to believe the worst. Gemma chewed at the inside of her lip.
But then again, it was her who gave Cat that impression in the first place, so she could hardly be blamed.
She peered at her phone screen, holding it towards the light to see it better, but whatever signal there had been now seemed to have disappeared.
And it was getting late. She needed to take her book back to the library tomorrow; she would message Cat then and say thank you.
Dropping her phone on her bed, she was about to turn back the duvet when she noticed that something else had been left there – an oblong wrapped in a botanical print paper and tied with a scrap of raffia. She sat down, bringing it onto her lap.
That it was from Leo was obvious. No one else would be giving her gifts, and it was just like him to leave it for her instead of giving it to her face to face. But perhaps that was for the best…
It was a book. A copy of one her mum had given her a long time ago, but which was now lost to time. It was beautifully bound with a tactile cloth cover, and what seemed to be… She looked closer, running her finger over the stitches – yes, embroidered in one corner. The Language of Flowers…
She opened the cover, excited to see the illustrations she knew so well and, as she did so, something blue fell into her lap.
Small, delicate and bound with a tiny white ribbon.
It was a bunch of forget-me-nots, dried and pressed so carefully that every feature of the original was still visible, the soft colour just as it had always been.
Lifting it carefully, she touched a finger to one of the petals with the lightest of caresses, emotion tightening her throat.
She didn’t need the book to know their significance, to know that they represented the endurance of love.
Underneath where the pressed flowers had lain inside the book was a packet of seeds, together with a handwritten message.
Things may change, they may never be as they once were, but what was loved never truly dies, and is remembered in the heart, always.