I laugh. ‘Didn’t you say you read the tree etchings to help you fall asleep?’
‘I did. But now I get it. I get what those couples carving their initials on that tree felt like. They wanted tangible evidence of their feelings. Something that would outlast them, something to exist in the world for hundreds of years after they ceased to.’
‘All this time you were a stealth romantic hero.’
‘Take that back.’
I laugh and grab a knife from the kitchen block, chuckling to myself when I realise I have once more pulled out thevegetable knife that not so long ago River thought I may use to ‘zucchini him to death’. I nod towards the cake and slice a massive wedge. ‘Looks like this particularly delicious-looking tree will not be lasting the hour, let alone the next hundred years.’
*
We linger for as long as we possibly can. Kissing, chatting, playing with Squish, both of us trying so hard to be stoic, scared of derailing what our logical brains know is the right thing to do. I’ve told Bridget to expect the completed manuscript at midday and it’s now ten to.
We stand in the middle of the kitchen floor – me on one foot – and hold each other, our soundtrack the reverberation of passing London buses and the crunch of Squish enjoying his premium kibble from the floor beside us.
‘So how do we do this?’ I ask as we pull apart, our eyes glossy with tears we’re both desperately trying to contain.
‘I’m not sure. I think maybe you should sit at the kitchen table? I’ll sit on the end of the bed so we’re not touching.’
‘Okay,’ I say, placing my laptop on the table and opening up the completed document. I glance at the space beneath the final sentence of the story.
‘And then … I guess you type it?’
‘I can’t.’ My voice comes out as a whimper. ‘I—’
‘You can,’ River croaks, eyes glistening. He marches over to the other side of the room and picks up his cowhide bag full of newly repaired jeans and his daddy’s harmonica.‘You can doanything, Owl. Come on.’ His face softens. ‘Give it some oomph.’
I swallow down the sob that bubbles in my throat, take a deep, shaky breath and poise my hands over the keyboard.
Then, with trembling hands I type out the words I’ve been desperate to write for so long. The words that will change everything.
The words I now wish I didn’t have to write but must.
The End
River smiles widely then. That good-guy smile. ‘Gertie,’ he says, his voice cracking, green eyes glittering with unshed tears.
‘River,’ I whisper, my whole body starting to ache, like I’m one gigantic sentient bruise. I wipe the tears from my eyes so I can imprint him onto my memory. This strange miracle, this adventure, this man I … this man that Ilove.
My whole body curves towards him. ‘Wait …’ I cry, suddenly panicked. ‘No!’
River reaches out towards me but then, faster than I can even comprehend, Squish issues a single determined bark and scrambles across the room, taking a running jump into a shocked River’s arms. ‘What the …’
An almighty boom makes me cover my ears with my hands, followed by a sharp flash of silver light which blinds me, the afterburn imprinting on the back of my eyelids.
When I open my eyes, Riverand Squishhave disappeared.
I blink, staring at the vacant space, unable to get my head around it.
It worked.
We sent him back.
River Oakley is …gone.
My knees buckle as I sink to the floor, my whole body starting to shake with sobs. I stare at the empty bed and clutch my stomach in disbelief.
It’s over.
