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Marnie stays with us – in our hearts, and in our minds, too, but it wouldn’t have been her style to disappear. When I went to the house she rented, I found a notebook with instructions for her funeral – if you can call it that – and three letters. Other than that, it was empty.
I don’t want a formal service, Rae. And don’t bother telling my mother. Throw my ashes to the wind, scatter the petals of wildflowers; play ‘One Day Like This’ by Elbow – and play it fricking loudly. There’s a line in there: ‘It’s looking like a beautiful day.’ Because believe me, these are the most beautiful days.
The letters were for me, Birdy and Jack. I was surprised there wasn’t one for Forrest, but I guess Marnie had already spoken to him – in person.
I saved mine for the first frosty morning. Wrapped in layers of jumpers, I took it to the folly, sitting on the bench where Marnie used to sit. As I read, it was like I could hear her voice, imagine the light in her eyes, her long hair sparkling in the sunlight.
Dearest Rae,
I’ve never been one for goodbyes, but I have to thank you. For your friendship, and for being there through the tough times, for making sure I was never alone.
So often I’ve thought how weird it is the way the last part of my life has unfolded. The events, their timing, that meant I came to Arundel, where I met you and Birdy, then Forrest… A lifetime of friendship and love condensed into a single year. How lucky does that make me?
I’ve been thinking of all the things life has taught me: to listen to my heart; to stop and feel the energy of the wind.
To savour moments of peace in this increasingly frenetic world.
To live each beautiful moment.
That dreams don’t have to be extravagant and out there.
That life is a fleeting window in eternity.
That our biggest adventure is to love.
So go out there, Rae. Love bravely.
Feeling tears well up, I imagine her voice again.
Take a risk. The worst that can happen is to fail.
Her words stay with me.Love bravely.But it’s how we should live, too. From the moment we’re born, none of us knows what the term of our natural life will be. Most of us don’t think about it. We think we have forever. And in between, so much time is wasted. Time we could do so much with.
And that’s what I’m going to take from this. Not to waste the days. To love like there’s no tomorrow. To reach for the moon, to celebrate the rain. To ride out the storms, always knowing. They will pass.
38
JACK
Marnie’s passing marks the start of what seems like a stream of unstoppable events. Firstly, Gertie comes over unexpectedly, thumping on my backdoor during a torrential downpour.
‘Bloody weather.’ She stamps her feet on the door mat. ‘Sorry to arrive unannounced, but it couldn’t wait.’
‘Tea? I’ve just boiled the kettle.’
Gratitude flickers in her eyes. ‘Now, that really would be lovely.’ Seeing Churchill curled up on the sofa, she frowns. ‘I’ve been looking all over for that cat.’
I feel slightly guilty. ‘I should have told you. He seems to have moved in.’
She shakes her head. ‘Well, that’s certainly going to make one thing easier.’
I’ve no idea what she’s talking about. While I make tea, after hanging her coat on the back of the door, Gertie sits down.
‘Gertie? You believe in soulmates, don’t you?’
‘I most certainly do.’ A look of surprise dawns on her face. ‘Oh, Jack. Are you saying…’
‘No.’ I’m not getting into the subject of my love life with Gertie – not after last time. I place a couple of mugs on the table.‘I was talking about Forrest. His body was found in the hospice garden. It had been there some time – months, most likely. But here’s the thing. Marnie was always talking about him, as if he was with her.’ I frown. It makes no sense. Or maybe it does.
