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I reach for Nana’s hand. Her skin is even thinner than I remember, and it’s cold like the granite worktop in her farmhouse kitchen. It startles me, but I don’t let go.
‘She was waiting for him.’ I swallow as I look up at one star that twinkles brighter than all the others. ‘She was waiting for Sketch to come for her.’
‘Is she gone?’ Ben sniffles. ‘Is she really gone?’
‘Sketch came to take her,’ I say. ‘He promised he’d be waiting among the stars. And he was. He really was. They’re together again.’
Ben shakes his head. ‘No. She can’t go. Not yet. They said there’d be more time. The doctors said we’d have days in the hospice. They said we’d have time to say goodbye. I didn’t say goodbye. I never said goodbye. Nana, come back. Oh, please come back.’
Marcy stands up and makes her way around the back of Nana’s wheelchair to switch off the oxygen tank. Ben’s eyes follow her, and his heartbreak is palpable.
‘I think your grandmother had other ideas, Ben,’ Marcy whispers. ‘This plan is almost sixty years old. Sketch and Annie are together in the orchard at last. I think Annie knew the hospice wasn’t for her. The orchard was always destined to be her last stop.’
Ben eyes Marcy pensively, and I can’t tell if heartbreak or acceptance illuminates his face, but something unfamiliar to me glistens in his eyes.
‘Is there more, Holly?’ Ben asks, his eyes dropping to the manuscript resting in my lap. ‘Is there another chapter? Who killed Nana’s pa? Was it Nana? Or her ma? Or that Bridget lady? Did Nana go to France? Did she catch the ferry on time? I need to know. We need to know, don’t we?’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t know. That was the last page. Nana’s story is over.’
Mam lifts her head. She slips her hand into her coat pocket and pulls out a piece of paper with my name handwritten on the front. She offers the folded paper to me with a shaking hand. I recognise the writing straight away. It’s the same handwriting as the manuscript I’ve just finished reading.
‘It’s from Nana,’ Mam explains. ‘She gave it to me a couple of weeks ago. She told me it was for you, but that I wasn’t to give it you until the time was right; a time you could really understand.’
I scan the cream rectangular paper as it wobbles in my mother’s grip.
‘Have you read it?’ I choke.
‘No. Of course not. It’s for you.’
I run a hand through my hair. My fingers catch in some knots at the back, and the hair pulls at my temples. I can’t take my eyes off the slim piece of paper folded in quarters between my mother’s fingers.There can’t be much written on such a small page, I think.Why didn’t Mam give it to me sooner, when I could have talked to Nana about it?It’s too late now. I swallow a lump of stubborn air and try to fight the pain pumping through my veins. Heartbreak is all-consuming. It drags me forward until I’m hunched and bent like an old lady, and a loud, chesty groan forces my mouth to open wide.
‘If you don’t know what it says, how do you know when the time is right?’ I snap unfairly.
‘I know your grandmother,’ Mam sobs. ‘The time is now.’
‘Read it, Holly,’ Nate encourages. ‘Annie must have something important to say.’
I stretch my open palm out to my mother, and she places the small folded paper into my hand. My fingers curl around it instinctively. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Nana’s voice washes over me, helping me to be brave.
‘Just read, Holly.’
I hear the words as clear as if Nana whispers them into my ear right now. I open my eyes again. Nate is nodding, and Ben is smiling through his tears. The biggest smile of all is on Nana’s resting face, and I replay Marcy’s words in my mind. Nana has had a plan all along. Reading this letter, under the stars, as all of us are together for the last time is part of it, and exactly what Nana wanted.
I stroke the flat of my hand over my grandmother’s knee as she sits next to me in her wheelchair.
‘You always know best, Nana,’ I say.
I uncross my legs and shuffle to stand. Nate hops up quickly. He’s on his feet before I’m off the ground. He takes my hand and helps me up.
‘When you’re ready, Holly,’ he says, standing behind me with his hand grazing my shoulder.
I bend forward suddenly and throw my arms around Nana’s neck and kiss her face. My tears trickle down my cheeks and fall onto hers like drops of salty rain. She’s cold and still, but I feel her near me. I know she’s still here. She’s watching and waiting for me to read her letter.
‘I love you, Nana,’ I sigh. ‘I love you so much.’
I take a step back and turn to face my emotional family. I lock eyes with my mother, and she nods and tries to smile.
I unfold the paper and take a deep breath.
