Petey’s father is missing. Gillian has had no contact for years and Petey had forbidden anyone to look for him when he fell ill. Still, Gillian had tried but no one seemed to know where he was. In the end, they placed the death notification in the local paper and one national, and hoped.
The service is brief, but it is still long enough for Jasmine’s mind to wander and it chooses to think about Ben. She recalls their argument and the devastation she felt as she walked away from his student house after their split. She recollects the Ben-shaped emptiness inside her as she set about packing her clothes for the journey back. She remembers the sheer heartbreak. She considers it all and finds no regret. Petey is gone and she is alone. She would not take back one second of the time she gave to her dying friend, even if it would have bought Ben’s love forever.
But she would have given almost anything else for some way to have Ben sitting beside her in this moment, this final moment of farewell. She dips her head and closes her eyes, extraordinarily sad there was no other ending.
Jasmine’s thoughts are interrupted as Flora stands to give her eulogy; Kate had asked Jasmine, but she declined. She was tired beyond belief and had no words left inside her. Instead, his uncle speaks for the family and Flora for his friends, words which leave the audience one moment chortling, then weeping as they recall the boy he was and the loss he leaves behind.
The line outside, as each mourner files past, is excruciating. Jasmine does not know how Gillian bears it – endless platitudes of sorrow for the loss. It makes her want to scream. The wake which follows is worse. She escapes into the beer garden, accompanied by Flora, whose grief for her childhood friend is only marginally less than hers.
And it is there, sitting on the rough wood of a picnic table, her feet on the bench, where her sisters find her. She endures Eleanor’s hug. Anna, more in tune with Jasmine’s feelings, simply squeezes her hand. And then Phoebe steps forward.
“I don’t know why you’re so upset,” she says. “After all, you dumped him.”
Jasmine, for all her pacifist principles, wants to hit her baby sister. Instead, she walks rapidly away. She hears Eleanor’s shocked remonstrance – “Phoebe!” – and Anna’s more caustic “Could you get any more stupid?”, before Jasmine finds she is running. For shehaddumped him. But she had seen it as setting them both free to find a great love, much greater than theirs. She had thought of a future Petey, buying his wife little presents, taking his son to football, dancing at his daughter’s wedding. Petey happy. They were supposed to grow apart as they grew old – short-term pain overlaid with new contentment. Now that was all gone. Her friend rubbed from the face of the earth, and she has nothing to replace it but grief and anger at the unfairness of it all.
Jasmine is not fit. She cannot run for long before she is out of breath. Refusing to enter her family’s Estate, she sticks to the main road until she turns off just past the Victorian red-brick Community Centre which used to house the village primary school. She stops at the little playground at the rear. Wedging her bottom onto a swing seat intended for someone half her age, she drops her head into her hands and takes deep steadying breaths.
She is no longer needed here. Petey is gone, and it is Kate’s place to look after Gillian, not hers. She cannot stay here, nor does she want to, but she has no job, no other place to live. After Phoebe’s words at the wake, there is no way she can return to her family home. If her already battered soul had to endure more of her youngest sister’s mocking, it would crush her. She takes out her phone and switches it on.
She messages Sean:I need help.
His reply is immediate:I am here for you. Whatever you need.
A place to go.Not for long. Till I find a job. With term over, their lease for their university digs has finished.
And Sean, ever faithful, responds:Mi casa es su casa.
Once again, Jasmine is in need of sanctuary. Once again, Sean comes to her rescue. Two days later, after a tearful goodbye with Gillian, Flora drives Jasmine to the station.
This time, as the train pulls into Hayburn station, she does not notice the dereliction, the smokers outside the pub, the desperate people hurrying home. She sees only Sean, waiting patiently for her. When she walks into his home, she feels she is leaving her past behind, and when she climbs into the immaculately made guest bed, she feels as if she could sleep for a week.
Day follows unchanging day. Jasmine had not thought beyond leaving Larkford and her memories of Petey behind. Now she is stuck. There is no studying; she has graduatedin absentiabarely noticing the date. As a guest, she has no household chores. For the first time in years, she has nothing to do and no direction.
Her situation is in distinct contrast to her hosts. Richard, as a Member of Parliament, is a busy man. As his wife, Emily has an equally busy social life, carefully crafted to offset her husband’s regular absences in London. And Sean, he is madly in love. The hot mechanic he met last Christmas is still hot, still willing, and has waited patiently for Sean’s return. Jasmine sees them together for all of a handful of minutes before she understands that in Georg, Sean has probably found his life’s partner.
After nearly a week where she cannot seem to move forward, Jasmine finds herself alone in her room on Saturday night. Following endless assurances on her part that she would be fine, Sean has finally left for his date with Georg in the town. Emily is out with her friends, a chick flick followed by drinks in a wine bar. She invited Jasmine but was clearly relieved when the invitation was declined and did not press further. To Jasmine, the thought of a night filled with the trivial affairs of a group of married middle-aged women, meeting to moan about the perceived inadequacies of their spouses and the awesomeness of their offspring, was horrendous. A trip to the dentist would be preferable. She much preferred to stay safely ensconced in the guest room, trying to progress further than the opening passage of the latest political memoir. But as she reads the same paragraph for the third time, she gives up and goes downstairs to warm a cup of oat milk in the kitchen.
Like a dutiful guest, she stops by the lounge on her way, to put her head around the door and ask if Richard wants anything. As she waits for the kettle to boil, she realises she has never been alone with Sean’s father before. Her friend has always been present to provide a buffer. The thought makes her a little nervous as she elbows her way through the door, trying not to spill tea from the slightly overfull cup as she places it on a waiting coaster.
“Thank you, Jasmine.” Richard looks up from the report he is reading, and then, seeing her standing holding her own drink, leans over and sweeps his mess of paperwork to the floor, leaving the sofa clear. “Sorry. Do sit down.”
Caught, Jasmine sits. She had not wanted company nor to intrude on Richard’s evening, but to leave now would appear rude. There is a moment’s awkward silence and then Richard coughs slightly, puts down his paper, and leans forward. His bushy eyebrows narrow.
“You’ve always been a good friend to Sean,” he says. “Emily and I appreciate that. I’m glad he has the opportunity to help you in return.”
She smiles. Parents always love praise of their children. She says, “Who couldn’t help but like him? It’s always been easy to be his friend.”
Richard appears to grimace at her reply. Then he clears his throat again and says, “I don’t know if you are aware, but Sean suffered quite a lot at school. It isn’t easy being gay in an area like this. From the moment he met you, your acceptance helped him feel he was normal. Laid some of those demons to rest.”
Richard looks down for a minute at the document he is holding, then continues, “It is very hard, as a parent, to watch your child struggle and to know you cannot help.”
Not sure how to respond to these confidences, Jasmine falls back on platitudes. “I can only imagine,” she says, and though she knows it is a lie, adds, “I’m sure you did what you could.” Even Jasmine’s obsessive need to tell the truth quails at starting a war between her host and his son.
“Nevertheless. We could not help him and you did. His mother and I, we are grateful.” Richard halts, shuffling his papers.
Jasmine really does not know what to say to this.It was nothingseems too trite.Thank you, too blasé. So she raises her cup and sips her drink, although it is still too hot and she feels the heat scald her lips.
Sean’s father stares at her for a long moment. Then he says, “Have you thought about what you will do next? Now that you’ve graduated?”
