They reached the summit, but neither could take pleasure in the view. Sombrely, they began their descent again.
‘I think it’s good you’re thinking of going to see your mother,’ Emily said, without a great deal of enthusiasm. Any conversation was better than none, a chance to prolong the agony of departure, and they were stuck together for now anyway; but all conversations were tarnished and dull now.
‘I don’t know if we’ll ever have a relationship,’ Kate said, knowing she sounded hard. ‘I just think it’s something I should do. My duty.’
Emily frowned. ‘But why, if you don’t think it will work? I don’t understand. Maybe you should give it a proper chance. After all, it’s been a long time.’
Kate fixed her eyes on the path unfolding stone by stone in front of her. It was the only way she could keep her fury from erupting. What did Emily know about it? With her perfect family who cared for her and parents who only drank the occasional glass of wine. Emily might have been on the periphery of the chaos that comprised Kate’s childhood but observing wasn’t the same as living it.
The truth was Kate was scared. Of loving her mother, and of loving Luke. Paralysed by the fear of losing them all over again. The memory of past heartbreak was so acute she would do anything to avoid feeling that way again. Even give up on second chances.
Emily’s words came tumbling out, as if she couldn’t hold them back but was a little fearful of their impact. ‘The trouble with you is that everything is black and white in your world. It’s like, one tiny inkblot on a page and the entire book is ruined. You think if something isn’t precisely perfect, all the time, then it’s not worth anything. But people are flawed, Kate. Sometimes those flaws make us more able to love them. Take your mother—’
Kate’s tone was chilly. ‘I’d rather not.’
‘Well, it’s about time we did.’ Emily looked braver now, and her voice was impassioned ‘You know that her problems were the result of mental illness, don’t you? She didn’t choose to be a terrible mother.’
Kate maintained an iron grip on her emotions. ‘Do you suppose I don’t know that she was ill? It doesn’t change anything. Not the things she did. Or the things she didn’t do.’
‘Of course it does. What about Lena? Would you hold her responsible for her actions if they were directly attributable to her Alzheimer’s, or would you make allowances for her?’
‘That’s not the same thing at all.’
‘Yes. It is.’
‘Let it go, Emily,’ Kate said warningly.
‘We’ve never discussed it before,’ Emily said with an air of having nothing to lose. ‘Why not now?’
‘There’s a reason we haven’t talked about her.’
‘Yes, because you’re scared.’
‘I am not scared.’ She knew that to be a lie, but she wasn’t ready to admit it to Emily, who had only pretended to love her. ‘It’s because there’s no point. You think if I forgive my mother suddenly my whole life will fall into place? It’s not that simple. As it happens, I forgave her a long time ago, but …’
Emily nodded, getting it. ‘But knowing something intellectually isn’t the same as feeling it.’
Kate looked at her, surprised. ‘Exactly.’ She frowned and felt the confession drawn out of her. ‘I look at her and I know that she’s my mother and I admire how she’s turned her life around but … honestly, Em, I feel nothing. Nothing. What does that say about me?’
Emily’s tone softened. ‘Nothing bad.’
‘So why do I feel so empty?’
‘Because your childhood was shit, whatever way you look at it. It shouldn’t have been that way, but I think it’s OK to feel … whatever you feel. Whether you choose to have a relationship with your mother is entirely a matter for you, but I think you want to. Don’t you want to?’
There was silence, save their footsteps on the gravelly path that wove down towards the tree line. Kate whispered something, then cleared her throat and her voice grew steadier, louder. ‘Yes. Yes, I think I do. Luke said he regrets not fixing things with his father before he died. Now it’s too late. I guess I don’t want that to happen with me and Mum.’
It was the first time Emily had ever heard Kate use that appellation. Usually she was so clinical and detached: my mother, or just Lily, when she referred directly to her at all, which was not often. Kate swiftly clammed up again and quickened her pace, stretching away from Emily a little.
Emily let her go. She had plenty to think about too and perhaps a little space was what they both needed now.
*
Emily was despondent as she walked the rest of the way alone, seeing Kate’s T-shirt as occasional flashes of colour ahead. She closed her eyes and might have been ten years old, sitting with Kate that first day at the art table, paintbrushes colliding, Kate ducking her head when anyone spoke to her. She was a timid mouse of a girl, thin and pale and unobtrusive, arriving unexpectedly in the class in the middle of term when her mother fled yet another disastrous relationship and the resulting moonlit flit landed Kate in Edinburgh in a dingy tenement flat and, most fortuitously, in Emily’s class.
Emily had been drawn to her even then. In that moment – with Kate apologising for clashing brushes on route to the water pot – she had known on some deep, subconscious level she could not have explained, that Kate needed her.
And she, Emily, needed Kate right back.
When she reached Jasper, Kate was leaning against his dusty side waiting for her. She was drinking from one of the water bottles. ‘What now?’ Emily said.
Kate shrugged. ‘I guess we go back to Bluebell Bank and wait.’
Wait for the baby to arrive. Wait for Kate’s opportunity to leave.
‘We have the whole day,’ Emily said hastily. ‘Let’s spend it together. Even if it’s the last one.’ Kate seemed to be considering this. Emily worried it might seem a morbid concept to her. ‘I’m about to become an aunt,’ she pressed. ‘It’s a special day. A day to something out of the ordinary. ‘What’s still on your Solway bucket list?’
Kate dug in her shorts pocket and produced a crumpled piece of paper. ‘I have an actual list,’ she said.
Emily rolled her eyes. ‘I would expect nothing less.’ She pored over the list. ‘Right,’ she said, eventually. ‘Let’s go and tick some more things off. Then we’ll always remember what we were doing the day my niece or nephew was born. I just want to say, and then I’ll shut up about it, I promise, that I really am sorry for how things happened. I wish everything could be different.’
‘No point wishing, Em,’ said Kate, ever practical. It had never seemed like such a curse before. It felt emphatic and sickening, this line she had drawn beneath Luke and Emily and her second chance at happiness. As if the line, once drawn, couldn’t be erased, even if she wanted it to be.
‘I would never let you down again.’
Kate’s smile, as she borrowed Luke’s words, was sad. ‘Never is a long time.’
‘I know you said you were certain you and Luke are over, but—’
Kate closed her eyes. ‘Emily, please, can we not talk about him any more?’
‘Sorry, but I just want to tell you – in case you really can’t see it for yourself – that he’s your fucking soulmate.’
Kate dismissed this promptly. ‘Your idea of soulmates is kind of skewed so forgive me if I don’t buy that. Plus, if we were soulmates it would have worked out.’
‘Maybe not, maybe you weren’t ready. You know, I think I have my eye on someone.’ Perhaps, Emily thought, she could hook Kate with confidences, like they were fourteen again and whispering secrets behind the pages of Just Seventeen.
‘You know, I really don’t think this is a good idea. I should head back and check out flights.’
‘No! Look, it’s just a quick walk at Sandyhills, then fish and chips in Kirkcudbright.’ Emily’s tone went from desperate to wheedling.
Kate relented. ‘Well, I guess you’d better tell me about Mike as we drive then.’
‘How did you know I meant Mike?’
‘You are completely unsubtle, Emily. It’s written all over your face when you say his name.’
Emily tilted her chin. ‘I like to think I’m an enigma. Dark and mysterious.’
Kate snorted. ‘Nope. Definitely no mystery. You’re an open book, Em.’ The palpable untruth of her words lay bare between them, unsettling. If she was an open book, Kate thought, then she’d have known the dark truth Emily harboured. She’d have sensed her betrayal. Maybe Emily was more of an enigma than Kate had ever realised. And maybe their friendship hadn’t been built on such solid foundations after all, since they had both kept such secrets concealed: Emily and Luke; Kate and Dan. Truths rankling, slowly turning sour.