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Shay couldn’t get back to Candlemas fast enough. The books were parcelled in brown paper, written on them in thick black pen:
On my death, to be given unopened to Shay Corrigan, address unknown
Shay cut the string, unwrapped them as if they were treasured artifacts, arranged them in date order. She had boughtall these hardback diaries for Denny, one every Christmas and he would buy her aGuinness Book of Recordsin return. She opened the first, saw her own schoolgirl handwriting in her practised italic pen.
To Denny, love Shay. Happy Christmas.
This book is for you to write down all your thoughts and dreams
Loads and loads of love xxx
The child inside her swelled with a mix of nostalgia, sadness and affection. She remembered writing these words, how she drew spaced-out pencil lines, that she’d later rub out, to get all the lettering perfect. She turned the page, saw Denny’s boyish scrawl, the long, thin joined-up font that started off neat but then hurried to keep pace with the thoughts pouring out of him.
Jan 1st.
This is the diary of Denny Smith aged 10. It’s a present from my best friend Shay Corrigan and I’m going to write everything that happens down in it.
There was barely any white space left in the book, he’d scribbled and doodled and written in every available part of it. She closed it and picked up the last book, the diary of Denny Smith aged 16. The second half of the book was heartbreakingly empty of entries, the untouched pages glared too brightly. Her birthday was marked in February, next to a doodle of a flower. Jonah’s on Christmas Eve, a small brown rugby ball drawn by his name.
She noticed her fingers had a slight tremble as she turned to June and she read what had led to their worlds being smashed apart. And then she cried and cried and cried.
Chapter 39
Later she drove up to Jonah’s house and waited for him. It was after six and she thought he might be home; she should have rung first but she wasn’t thinking straight. Shay was hunting in her bag for his business card when his Jag nosed into sight. She could see him smiling through the windscreen.
‘Hello,’ he said in warm greeting as he got out of the car. ‘I’ve just driven round to your house and here you are instead. What a lovely—’ He broke off on seeing her face. ‘Jesus, what’s happened?’
She looked terrible, she must do, though she hadn’t checked her reflection in the mirror before driving here. Her eyes must be swollen, her cheeks red raw from salt burn.
‘I went to see Ella. She told me what happened,’ she replied. ‘And she gave me all Denny’s diaries.’
Jonah’s eyes dropped to the bag she was carrying.
‘Let’s get you inside,’ he said.
He opened up the door and the dogs greeted them in a friendly rush. He fussed them quickly then guided her into his dining area, pulled a chair out for her, pressed lightly onher shoulders to seat her because she was bewildered, her thoughts scattered.
‘Let me get you a drink.’ He lifted the jug of coffee from his filter machine and filled two mugs. ‘It’s been stood a while, so it might be a bit strong.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Tell me what happened,’ said Jonah.
‘She opened the door and let me in. I had to swear on a bible that I wouldn’t do anything with the information until she… wasn’t here any more.’ Shay shook her head to settle tears rising up inside her even though she didn’t think she had any left. ‘None of it should have happened, Jonah. He didn’t have to do it.’ Emotion had claimed her throat, she could barely speak.
Jonah put a coffee in front of her, sat down next to her.
‘So you know?’
When she nodded, he felt suddenly winded.
Shay reached for the last diary, opened it to mid-June, passed it to Jonah to read.
Everyone has a different idea of normal I think. My normal is very different to Shay’s and Jonah’s. It’s just something you live with, day in and day out and your brain adjusts to it so stuff doesn’t become a shock all the time. I don’t like my normal. I don’t have any happy memories of anything in this house because even the best of them are spoiled. Everything nice gets broken in this house, he spoils everything. He says everything in this house is his and he can do what he likes with it. That’s why he’s started on Rachel.
‘Started on Rachel?’ Jonah asked, but there was no other way to interpret it.
He read on.
