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I shrug. ‘I suppose, for the first time in ages, I’m starting to want to do more than just the everyday. The other thing that’s changed is it doesn’t feel wrong.’
‘Funny thing, grief.’ He shakes his head. ‘There are all these books written about it. The stages we’re supposed to work through… There are all the views people like to have, too.’
‘I know,’ I say emphatically. ‘Take the classic: time heals.’
‘It doesn’t always work like that, does it?’ He smiles wryly. ‘But in reality, I think it’s simple. When you lose someone you love, you can’t take away the pain. You take as long as it takes to find a place for it in your life.’
‘Tell me about it. Until now, I haven’t wanted to.’ It’s exactly how it feels. ‘I didn’t want to forget.’
‘It’s OK,’ he says gently. ‘And you won’t. Our hearts remember. Always.’
A tear rolls down my cheek, followed by another. But not because I’m sad. They’re tears of relief. Somehow, he’s fitted together the hotchpotch jigsaw of my emotions in a way I haven’t been able to; in a way that, to me, makes perfect sense. My eyes hold his. ‘Thank you,’ I whisper tearfully. ‘Really. You have no idea how much that’s helped.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Fishing in his pocket, he passes me a tissue.
Wiping my face, I pull myself together. ‘Can I ask you something?’ I hesitate. ‘Only, how do you know all this?’
He glances at the lake. ‘I work in a hospice. Death is part of our everyday. But when patients come in, it’s about so much more than that.’
I can’t imagine what that’s like. ‘Isn’t it really sad, being there at the end of someone’s life?’
‘Sometimes.’ He pauses. ‘But it can be beautiful, too – and humbling. When people are near the end, often their minds sharpen. No-one thinks about the small stuff. Their loved ones, even life itself, become more important than they’ve ever been.’
‘You must really make a difference,’ I say quietly. ‘To all these people who have you around them.’
‘It’s what we do.’ Something flickers across his face. ‘Death is such a taboo subject. It’s crazy, really – when it gets to us all at some point.’
I gaze at him. He’s right – about so many things. ‘I think you may have met Marnie – up at the folly early one morning. A while ago now.’
He looks slightly mystified, before suddenly his eyes light up. ‘Ah. Long dark hair? She’s quite, er, blunt, is probably the word?’
‘It’s exactly the word.’ Thinking of Marnie’s outspokenness, I can’t help smiling. ‘And whatever she said, I apologise for her. She doesn’t always think before she speaks – which can makeher seem a bit unfeeling – which she isn’t, by the way. And actually, I really like that about her,’ I say defensively.
He’s trying not to smile. ‘She was definitely interesting – and she certainly didn’t hold back.’
‘She doesn’t.’ I look at him. ‘I don’t even know your name.’
‘I’m Jack.’
‘I’m Rae.’ When I hold out my hand, it tingles as he clasps it in his. ‘It’s really nice meeting you again.’
‘You, too.’ He gets up. ‘So. I was going to carry on around the lake and up to the folly. Would you like to join me?’
I hesitate, searching for an excuse, before deciding I have no reason not to, and as we follow the path around the lake, I feel the smallest of clouds start to lift, before I’m berating myself. When Marnie’s still in hospital, it feels wrong to be out here enjoying myself.
It’s as if Jack reads my mind. ‘You’re going to have these really odd moments while Marnie’s going through this.’ He glances sideways at me. ‘It’s easy to feel guilty. But whatever happens going on from here, there’s still a whole lot of life to live. And it isn’t wrong to want to do that. In a way, it’s the perfect consequence, if there’s such a thing.’
He’s lost me. ‘How, exactly?’
Jack shrugs. ‘I think when something happens like what Marnie’s going through, it reminds us that none of us live forever. In a way, that’s a gift. I mean, to be reminded how amazing life is… We forget, don’t we?’
My mind starts to clear. ‘Is that how it is for you?’
‘Ah.’ He smiles. ‘For a while, I really wasn’t in a good place.’ He pauses. ‘But actually, it is – and I’m still working on it.’
I make a note to self to do the same as he goes on. ‘Would you like a lift to Brighton to see your friend?’
I’m taken aback. ‘I can’t ask you to do that.’
