I imagined him turning away when I’d gone, climbing the remaining steps. Picking up the tea he’d left at the top. Maybe pausing to take a sip. He still had his phone in one hand, because we’d just exchanged details. Perhaps he sat on a chair by the window and took a look at my Facebook profile. He’d scroll down, maybe, and—
I reached for my phone.
I felt oddly calm as I searched my own Facebook page. And there, of course, it was. A friendly message from Tommy Stenham, on 1 June 2016.
Welcome home, Harrington! Hope you had a good flight. Can’t wait to see you.
I put my shoes back on. I walked back towards the observatory and ordered an Uber. While I waited for it to arrive, I got out my phone and started writing. I had my answer.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Eddie,
I know who you are.
For years I used to dream about meeting you. The dreams took place in the darkest edges of my mind and in them you never really had a face or a voice. But you were always there, and it was always awful.
Then you were there, really there, that day in June, sitting on the green at Sapperton with a sheep. You were smiling at me, buying me drinks, and you were lovely. And I didn’t have a clue.
The world tastes like it did the summer I turned seventeen. Like bile in my throat.
We need to talk. Face to face. Below is my American mobile number. Please call it. We can arrange to meet.
Sarah
Chapter Thirty-Six
‘Sarah Mackey,’ Jenni said. ‘Where have you been? I’ve been calling you.’
I slid off my leather sandals and perched on the edge of a bar stool. ‘Sorry. I left my phone on silent. Are you OK?’
Jenni ducked my question, padding off to get us some water. ‘I can fix you a soft drink if you prefer,’ she said, handing me a glass. Her eyes were bloodshot and I could tell she’d been in bed since she’d got back from work.
Promptly, I burst into tears.
‘What’s happening?’ Jenni came back over. She smelled of coconut shampoo and marshmallow skin. ‘Sarah . . . ?’
How could I explain this squalid, sorry mess to a woman who’d just lost her last, cherished hope of a family? It was unthinkable. She would listen to me, and she would be horrified. And then crushed, because there would be nothing – absolutely nothing – she could do to solve it for me.
‘Tell me,’ Jenni said sternly.
‘It was all fine at the doctor’s,’ I lied, after a long interval. I blew my nose. ‘Fine. There are blood tests to come, but everything’s OK.’
‘OK . . .’
‘But . . . I—’
My phone started ringing.
‘It’s Eddie,’ I said, diving blindly around the room for my phone.
‘What?’Jenni, suddenly capable of lightning reflexes, plucked it out my bag and hurled it at me. ‘Is that him?’ she asked. ‘Is that Eddie?’
And my chest drummed with pain, because it was, and the situation was unbearable. I could never be with him. I had found him at last, and we had no future.
‘Eddie?’ I said.
There was a pause, and then there was his voice, saying hello. Just like I had dreamed it would, only this time it was real. Familiar and strange, perfect and heartbreaking.His voice.
