Chapter 38
Despite Josh’s protests, we make our way out of Ransom and step out of the strange door we entered what feels like hours ago. The sky has turned a darker shade of blue in our absence and is covered in dusty grey clouds, the air crisper and cooler.
Cherry Wave, the K-pop band that adorns Josh’s worn t-shirt and also sits sadly at the bottom of his checklist are playing on the Firecrest Stage shortly, just before the headliner act. He sweetly suggests that he would miss them, if there’s something else we’re all keen to see together.
‘No, shut up,’ Hennie objects, waving around a furious arm. ‘Definitely not.’
‘You have to see them, Josh. They’re on the checklist that you’ve been neglecting all weekend because of me,’ I say.
‘The only thing I’ve neglected this weekend, my cherub, is my personal hygiene,’ he shoots back gleefully. ‘Don’t go blaming yourself for unnecessary nonsense.’
‘I suppose this is the end, then,’ Hennie declares, already reaching toward Owen and locking together in a long embrace.
With a gasp, I feel two arms wrap around me and my entire body being lifted off the ground and for an absurd second, I wonder if Elliot has initiated a wrestling match for the stick.
‘I’m going to miss you so horribly,’ Josh’s voice croons from behind me. Elliot observes us from the sidelines with a smile, probably keen to leave Owen and Hennie to say their goodbyes alone.
My feet touch solid ground once again and when I look up to take in his wild hair and enormous grin, I can’t help but pout.
‘It’s not fair!’ he says, mirroring my expression. ‘Come to Cherry Wave!’
‘I can’t, I’m sorry. But you go ahead, kiddo,’ I reply. ‘And I’m sorry Ransom wasn’t what you hoped it might be. I hope you’re not too disappointed.’
‘Are you kidding?’ he says with a bemused smile.
‘Nora, I got to go. I got to see Ransom with my own eyes after years of wondering what it could even be. Even if it wasn’t what I was dreaming up in this jazzy little brain of mine, it doesn’t mean I’m disappointed.
It’s always worth checking out the dream for yourself if you get the chance. ‘Cos now I know. You know?’
I nod. ‘I know.’
He appraises me with a teasing glare. ‘Don’t you dare lose touch with us. I know where you live.’
‘Well, you don’t. But consider me warned.’
He laughs harder than the joke really deserves, before giving me a more level look and crossing his arms. ‘Thanks for calling me Josh, by the way. I think you’re one of the only people who do.’
I feel my face crumple slightly. ‘You don’t have to thank me. And I am really sorry about your checklist; I feel personally responsible for fucking it up.’
For a second, he looks genuinely offended. ‘What?’ he objects. ‘I have so many tales. I finally got into Ransom. It was a perfect weekend. Don’t you think?’
‘Yeah, it was.’ I smile, refusing to acknowledge the tears starting to burn behind my eyes. I let him engulf me in a regular hug before he pulls away and pats my tiara happily.
‘Let’s see this life-changing band of yours all together when they tour next,’ he says. ‘I need to see what the piss all the fuss is about after chasing them around all bloody weekend, as blessed as it was and – oh! Shit, hang on, we should do this one last time for good measure.’
Elliot sees Josh coming and ducks out of the way, but sadly isn’t quick enough as Josh mercilessly digs his fist into Elliot’s hair with a manic squeal of laughter.
I join in, cackling madly as he tries to swat us off him, and then Owen and Hennie pile onto us too.
Owen launches himself at Elliot a little too hard and he stumbles under the weight of it, causing all of us to follow suit and fall in a mangled heap of limbs.
Hennie’s laughter rings out louder than anyone’s, and the image of Josh mounted on top of Elliot, still frantically fisting his hair, makes me laugh so hard I can’t breathe.
Owen gets to his feet first and quickly snaps some photos of the absolute state we’re in.
I know I’m going to look terrible in them but in this moment, I don’t even care.
‘Fuck all of you,’ Elliot’s muffled voice says.
When we’re all back on our feet, Josh runs over to Hennie with a squeal and they throw their arms around each other with a high pitched, ‘naaur.’
Owen appears with his arms outstretched, and I’m surprised to feel a sharp pang of sadness at our goodbye.
‘Thanks, Owen,’ I mumble into his chest as he winds his arms tightly around me.
‘Stop that,’ he replies with a smile wrapped around the words, his voice rumbling through me. ‘What for?’
‘I don’t know,’ I say truthfully. ‘Everything, really.’
He pulls back, leaving his hands on my shoulders. ‘We’ll see each other soon.’ He says it with ease, but also as if there’s no room for negotiation.
‘I hope so,’ I say.
‘We will.’
I nod with a smile, as he tips his chin at something behind me.
‘I’ll leave you two to it,’ he says, patting my arm as he departs.
And I finally turn to face him. His arms are folded across his chest as he studies me, his expression soft. His hair is more unkempt than it’s ever been, a lock falling over his brow that my hand aches to brush away.
There’s nothing left to do but retrieve the drumstick from my bag and listen to the strange quiet that falls over us as we both stare at it. The one prize left. I roll it between my fingers, trying to memorise the sensation.
‘The time has come for us to decide who gets this in the divorce,’ I say. The air between us feels like it has been pulled taut. Something unfamiliar and unsettling fizzles in the space around us.
He snorts humourlessly at the ground. ‘Right.’
There’s no point dragging this out. My gut stings with the weight of the decision that I think I unknowingly made hours ago.
A small part of me hates myself for falling at the very last hurdle, but the bigger, gentler side has known since last night that this is the right thing to do.
When he covered his face with his hands and told me everything.
When he unintentionally showed me that he needs it far more than I do.
Its sole purpose in my life would be to sit on a shelf and collect dust, occasionally serving as a trigger for my own memories.
Ultimately, it wouldn’t change anything like it could for him.
As much as I desperately wish it could be mine.
Elliot could truly use it to connect with someone who needs him. He could offer it as a symbol of his affection – a promise that he cares. And I don’t have it in me to deny him the chance.
I take a deep breath.
‘I think you should keep it,’ I say, nearly tripping over my own words.
His head shoots up. ‘What?’
I bite my lip and briefly toy with the idea of taking it back.
‘I think it’s yours, Elliot.’
He just stares at me, temporarily stunned, his blue eyes like orbs.
‘You still want it, I’m guessing?’ I say, offering it to him with raised brows.
‘Is that a trick question?’
I shake my head. He runs his hands through his hair, heaving a broken sigh.
‘No, I can’t… I can’t take it, Nora. It’s yours.’ He looks at the drumstick as if it’s tainted or cursed. ‘It’s always been yours.’
I fight a smile. ‘This feels very different to our first conversation.’
‘A lot has happened since then.’
Our eyes meet, and something passes between us. Memories of all the moments of Firecrest that I’ll always cherish. A mutual regret, that any of this has happened and that it has to end with a choice.
‘I can’t take it,’ he says, his voice gruff. ‘Not from you.’
‘I really shouldn’t be so surprised you’re being so difficult.’
‘That’s my thing,’ he counters.
‘Elliot,’ I say patiently. ‘If you don’t take this, I’ll be throwing it directly into the Thames.’
He gives me an incredulous look. ‘Why?’
I sigh lightly, twirling it with one hand. ‘I don’t know, but it would be a terrible waste of a perfectly good drumstick…’
He’s in front of me in a flash, catching hold of my wrist with a look in his eyes that makes my words die in my throat.
‘I know how important this is to you,’ he says. ‘I’m not joking about this.’
‘It’s yours, Elliot. You have to take it.’ He studies me with a wild, desperate look. ‘My conscience won’t let me keep this now.’
There’s a brief silence as he swallows, my words sinking in for both of us.
‘Why?’ he asks quietly.
‘Come on,’ I murmur. ‘The guilt would tear me apart, knowing I took it from your brother’s possession. I’ll be fine, I don’t need it.’ I let the lie leave my mouth without a thought as I smile. ‘But your brother probably does right now, and you need to give it to him.’
His face transforms into something I’ve never seen from him before. If I didn’t know him better I’d say it almost looks like he’s holding back tears. He shakes his head, releasing his hold on my wrist and tearing his arm away like it’s red-hot.
‘I can’t,’ he says firmly. ‘I can’t take it from you.’
I step closer to him and take his hand in my own. Trying to ignore the way it feels within mine, I tuck the drumstick into his palm and tenderly wrap both my hands around his loose grip on it, tightening his fingers around it.
‘Yes, you can,’ I say, my voice quiet but sure.
Something in his jaw ticks and his arms are suddenly around me, sweeping me into the tightest, most delicious embrace.
Every muscle in my body relaxes as I wrap my arms around him with a sigh.
Not caring about how it looks, I let myself bury my face into the nape of his neck and breathe in his scent for the last time.
I release myself from his clasp, but he keeps his hands firmly on my shoulders.
‘Out of everyone in the world I could have been attached to, I’m glad it was you,’ he says, his smile so warm and open that I’m caught halfway between beaming and bursting into tears.
‘Me too,’ I say with a nod, attempting to blink the tears back into my skull.
As he lets go, Hennie approaches with a wry smile to give Elliot a stiff pat on the arm. ‘See ya.’
‘Bye, Hennie,’ he replies with a nod. ‘It was good meeting you.’
‘Sure. Uh… ditto,’ she says awkwardly.
‘You don’t have to lie. I thought that wasn’t in your character.’
‘Good. In that case: may our time apart make you less annoying,’ Hennie says with a salute.
‘Amen!’ Owen agrees. I don’t bother hiding my hearty laugh.
‘Good, brilliant,’ Elliot mumbles.
‘Could we hold the dramatics? This isn’t farewell forever, losers,’ Josh says, motioning at us with impatient hands.
Owen addresses Hennie quietly about something to do with the month of October, and Elliot turns to me very abruptly.
‘We should definitely do something soon,’ he says quietly.
For a second I am breathless, positively quaking at the statement. The idea that we will all see each other again, this wasn’t just for a brief moment of time. Not just a weekend.
My face lights up, my mouth breaking into an uncontrollable grin.
‘For sure,’ I agree with an eager nod. ‘We should do Firecrest again, the five of us.’
His expression falls for a moment, so briefly I almost don’t catch it. But then his smile is back. ‘Yeah. If we can get tickets, let’s do it.’
My lips start to form a response, except nothing comes out.
For the first time since we met, I can’t think of anything to say. We stare into the space around each other, all of the words unsaid floating between us. All of the things I would say if I was a little more brave, a little less hopeless.
The heat in my chest relentlessly churns, twisting and aching.
And it physically hits me that I won’t see him again tomorrow.
That we’ll never have this sort of closeness again, where his hand finds my back in a crowd and I always have an excuse to stick to his side.
Where we wake up together and say goodnight side-by-side.
It feels as if this close, inexplicable bond that we have somehow built over the weekend is soon to come undone, and I can only watch as it unravels.
I clear my throat to break the silence I can no longer endure.
‘Enjoy the K-pop,’ I joke weakly.
‘I’m not sure I have a choice,’ Elliot matches my tone, but he won’t meet my eyes.
‘Correct,’ Josh chimes in from afar, pointing at Elliot menacingly. ‘He will enjoy it very much, won’t you, Elliot? It’s been two long years since this band has performed in this country.’
‘Yes, Ham,’ Elliot says obediently.
‘And look after our son,’ I add, giving him a nudge. ‘I really hope Max loves it.’
‘He will,’ he says firmly.
‘See you soon.’ I try to make it a statement rather than a question.
He nods, returning my hesitant smile.
Maybe a future version of myself might be more honest: a bolder, shameless Nora with the kind of self-belief I have always craved. Perhaps she might be the one to say: I think I’m crazy about you. Or let’s grab a drink. Just you and me.
For the first time, the idea of meeting that person who must be lurking somewhere inside me doesn’t seem so impossible.
But for now, those blue eyes fill me with nothing but terror, so I watch him walk away.
‘Come on, slackers! If we miss Cherry Wave, I will die!’ Josh shouts.
‘I thought we were stopping the dramatics, Ham,’ Owen says.
‘That’s nothing but truth, Owen,’ Josh drawls.
The boys eye the drumstick in Elliot’s grasp with surprise as he rejoins them, but don’t mention it as they make their way up the footpath back into the festival. Owen eyes me over his shoulder with concern as I force my brightest smile.
‘See you! Be safe!’ Josh yells as Owen waves farewell. Elliot just shoots me one last smile: the soft, tender one that usually stops my brain from functioning altogether, as I now know all too well.
They vanish from sight and I bite my lip, finally feeling the disappointment collide with my gut. Disappointment in myself, and with everything that led to me being this way. And, as always, Hennie’s hand finds mine.