Chapter Forty

 

 

IT’S BEEN A YEAR SINCE his passing, but it’s only now that I’ve plucked up the courage to do this. The ground is hard and unyielding beneath my feet, but I need to be here.

I stop before Gage’s grave and read the inscription I picked out for him a year ago: Father, Son, Husband

It says nothing about who he really was. How ironic that even in death, he was still upholding the lie. There was never any way for him to be who he really was, not after being brought up to see that the way forward was to deny his true self.

I spread a blanket on the ground, kneeling across the grass, beneath which lies my husband’s body.

“Do you remember our first date?” I ask, as I remove some dead stems no doubt brought here by his mother months ago, never replaced. I unwrap a huge bunch of wildflowers I picked from my own back garden this morning, clipping them before stuffing them inside the metal vase attached to his headstone. “We went to McDonald’s. You were wearing those stupid parachute pants. I was dressed in polka dots and fishnets. Every time you smiled, it felt like my insides were melting.”

I clip furiously for a couple of minutes, trying not to get too upset.

“I don’t think I can forgive Marvin. He still sends cards, but I throw them away. He could’ve put hundreds of pounds in them, and I’d never know.” I laugh like a crazy woman, alone in a graveyard, talking to my dead husband. “I bought a new house with Sam. It’s up in South Dalton, where it’s really very beautiful. We have acres of land to wander and lots of space to live. My mother has her own little granny flat and she splits her time between helping me with the kids and volunteering at the local church. Sam’s been promoted again. Oh, and Emily lost her first tooth. Rupert’s looking more like you all the time and I’ve begun a career as a playwright. They’re adapting my second play as we speak. If you saw it, you’d probably laugh, at least you would now, because you’re not part of this sorry, prejudiced world anymore.”

I faff with the arrangement, wanting my blooms to look perfect.

“Hetty’s left for Liverpool with Joe. She’s going to be massive, I just know it. Her mind’s like this runaway train and she can’t stop. She and Joe come back home often, though. We skype all the time and she seeks my opinion more times a week than I can count. I wish she lived nearby, but sometimes we have to let go in order to grow. I think time’s a great healer, don’t you? I think Joe’s been a massive part of her recovery, but she’s doing amazing things considering all the crap she went through.”

I look out across the surrounding land, vast and so green. His grave is in a churchyard, in the village where my mum and dad used to live. I didn’t want him bunched in with loads of others in any kind of cramped city space. Where he is, it’s nice and quiet, tranquil and serene. He can finally rest.

“Marvin said you didn’t love me, but the more I’ve thought about that, the more I know that’s not true. He didn’t see the times when you’d bring me a hot water bottle, or the nights you held the kids when I was too tired to. He didn’t see that you used to bring me cups of tea and listen to me ranting on about Hetty’s latest misadventure. He didn’t see that you were a husband, after all. It was just that one vital piece was missing from our marriage, wasn’t it? If there had been any sort of lasting passion between us, we might have been all right, you and me.”

I take out my hanky and wipe under my eyes and nose. “If I could undo it all and prevent what you did, I would do it in a heartbeat. If I could turn back time, oh if… If there were some way I could go back and erase all the pain and anguish, I would. I mean that sincerely. However, I wouldn’t be on this journey now without it. So even while I live with this paradox, I’m grateful for you, and I’m on the right path now because of you. I just wanted to come today to say thanks. And to bring you pretty flowers.” I take to my feet and blow him a kiss. “I’ll be back soon, Gage. I promise. I’ll be back.”

 

 

WHEN I GET home, Sam’s waiting for me. My mug is full of tea on the sideboard and echoing through the house are the sounds of the kids playing in the conservatory, accompanied by my mother’s yells of encouragement as they play hoops.

Sam wraps his arms around me and squeezes me tight. We stand in the dining kitchen, watching the children enjoying themselves through the windows that look out towards the garden and conservatory.

“How was it?” he asks.

“It was okay. I feel better for it.”

“That’s the main thing.”

Sam and I don’t have secrets anymore. We tell one another everything. Some days I wake up, sure this must be a dream. I have everything I shall ever need right here.

We have a couple of acres and no bordering neighbours. The gardens will forever keep me occupied and Sam bought me a Labrador puppy Christmas just gone. I call her Suzie. It seemed fitting. Suzie’s sleeping near the radiator in her bed right now, still in that stage of infancy where sleep is paramount. I can’t wait for the day when I can walk her for miles around, and also see her bounce around the back garden with the kids.

Sam has plans to get as high up as he can in his job, then start his own business after that. He wants to be a consultant and I applaud him. I think opposites definitely attract because while his career focus is undoubted, mine’s been lacking over the years, sometimes even non-existent. However, I was always told that you need to live before you become a storyteller – and I think I’ve done that.  

“I got you something,” he says, letting me go gently from our embrace.

He picks a velvet jewellery box up off the counter and I find myself almost holding my breath… almost…

“Oh, Sam!”

It’s not the right size or shape to be a ring box…

Anyway, it’s the thought that counts.

“I bought it for you ages ago, when I was in Austria wandering some market. I was waiting for a day when I thought you’d need cheering up, so here you go.”

Sam doesn’t spoil me too often, but when he does give gifts, they’ve normally been well thought out.

I pop open the box and discover an ornate, Victorian-style pendant on a matching silver chain. There’s an opal inside surrounded by tiny diamonds.

“It’s gorgeous, Sam.”

“Let me help you.”

I lift my hair and he fastens it for me at the back. I lift the pendant to see it close up. He knows exactly the type of thing I like and that’s all that really matters to me in this moment.

“Thank you, baby.”

“It suits you,” he says. “The opal complements your blue eyes. I knew you’d love it.”

“I do. I really do.”

He holds his arms around me as I continue watching the kids playing hoops with my mother. She’s entirely content these days – and that also makes me happy. She doesn’t want for anything. She has everything she’s ever needed: a place, a purpose, a family.

Of course, there will always be ghosts in our lives, but that’s to be expected. I try to vanquish his, the same as he endeavours to extinguish mine, even though we’ll never fully be rid of the past, not entirely.

At one stage, I was contemplating asking my mother about my birth father, but then I changed my mind. It doesn’t matter to me, I realised. I have so many people in my life I’m grateful for and even if John Browne didn’t provide the sperm, he’s my father and always will be. It’s not been easy, but he occasionally sends money for the kids and phones at Christmas to make sure we’re all okay. If anything, I’m just grateful he’s alive.

I stand with my back to Sam, holding the pendant between my fingers. It actually feels a bit fancy to be pairing it with my current outfit… you could say that since moving to the country, I’ve embraced jeans and sweaters. Hetty thinks it’s hilarious.

“I’m so happy,” I murmur.

“Me too, kitten.”

I breathe in the fresh air and sigh. The house is a dream… but the love I share with Sam is even better.

I turn in his arms and stare up into his eyes, our forearms locked together.

I can’t help but feel nervous as I tell him, “I know I said it didn’t matter to me… and it still doesn’t really, but the truth is, I am the sort of woman who needs to be married. It’s what I’ve always wanted. It’s who I am. I believe in love everlasting – two people being everything to one another. It’s my heart’s biggest desire… it’s all that really matters to me. It’s just strange that for so many years, this perfect love was staring me in the face… and I guess that’s why I said it didn’t matter, because it didn’t… but it does… if you understand me?”

Sam’s semi-smiling, but he also looks puzzled. “Umm, Liza…”

“I was just scared, that was all. I was scared of us… of it not being all I’d hoped it might be, when the truth is, it’s more than I ever could have imagined, and I just… I just…”

“Liza,” he begins, but I place my hand over his mouth to shut him up.

“Will you bloody marry me, Samuel Aitken? Will you?”

One of his eyebrows lifts, then he’s shaking his head. I’ve pissed him off. Oh, I’ve really gone and done it.

He moves towards one of the kitchen drawers and rummages around in the back. He knows I hate the backs of kitchen drawers, where anything could be lurking. Anyway, he retrieves something… not meant for the kitchen…

This time, the box is neat and square.

He pops it open and I see an elegant diamond, mounted on a plain and simple band.

“I’ve had this much longer than I’ve had that pendant,” he tells me, trying hard not to chuckle. “So, I guess my answer is yes!”

I slap a hand over my mouth and he manages to get the ring on, even though I’m cracking up so bad.

He pulls me tight into his arms, our noses brushing as he kisses me, his hands gently rustling through my hair and his grin as wide as his face.

“I want a church wedding with a massive dress,” I decide, giggling with joy.

“I’d expect absolutely nothing less.”

Then he really kisses me, and I really begin to believe.