‘I thought you’d, that you were going to—’
She stops, holds my hands in hers, kisses my knuckles and then stares into my eyes. ‘I know I haven’t been myself; I know I’ve put you through hell, Ed. But I’m getting better, I’m almost there. I can see why now, why I’m still here: Kerry gave me a gift when she died, she gave me the gift of life, and I’m the luckiest woman alive because I get to spend it with you.’ She grimaces. ‘Christ, that was a cheesy line.’
I grin at her. ‘Cheesy lines are my favourite.’
Epilogue
Kerry
The day I was born, it was snowing. It was March, it was unusual, but then again, so was I. A baby born to a couple who thought they were infertile. Two days later and the weather had turned; it was a warm spring day. Mum liked to say that I melted the snow and brought her daffodils.
But I have my own theory.
My sister Jennifer was waiting for me. She looked down into the Moses basket and kissed my forehead.
‘Is she mine?’ she had asked my parents.
‘Yes,’ they had answered, smiling indulgently at each other: our family is complete; aren’t we lucky?
Jen was there if I had a nightmare, my three-year-old mind conjuring shadows in the dark, somehow knowing before my screams erupted from my mouth, climbing into the bed with me, telling me stories and chasing the demons away.
My sister was there, sat at the table, while I struggled to read the letters that were always jumbled up, backwards, jumping over the page, telling me not to panic, to take my time, that I would get there.
My parents used to say I was their miracle, but I wasn’t. Jen was the miracle. Jen could have been given to any family, but she came to ours; she was our gift. When I was with her, I never felt awkward or out of place because I was ‘Jen’s sister’. I loved that. Dad always introduced me as ‘Jennifer’s sister, Kerry’ . . . words like sun on sand.
Then the day came when she met Edward. This awkwardly good-looking man that stepped into our house, into our world, as though he had always been there. I had never been there to protect Jen the way that she had protected me, but when he walked into her life, I felt like I had lost my chance, lost my chance to look after her, to give her back the gift that she had always given me.
It’s raining and we’ve come into town for Nessa’s engagement ring. I’m wearing my favourite boots, they’re red leather and fit like they were made just for me. Jen is talking but I’m distracted: I’m thinking of Nessa and what if she doesn’t say yes. We stop at a zebra crossing; the rain is hammering down, there are droplets rolling along the red of my boots, onto the pavement. A car has sped past us, splashing Jen’s jeans, but she hasn’t noticed, she’s describing the way to the jeweller’s with her hands – she’s always done that, her hands move as much as her lips when she’s talking – and her focus is drawn across the road towards her left, which she is gesturing to. The green light flashes; she’s still looking in the direction of the jeweller’s, still talking as my foot takes a step forward.
But a car is approaching: one wiper is working furiously but the other remains rigid; the car’s speed is constant, no hint of slowing down. It’s a moment, a split second where my brain processes the pieces of jigsaw that are making the whole, a split second to make the decision . . . but it’s not a decision really, it’s the way it was always meant to be. My hand punches out and connects with my sister’s chest; this movement fills me with euphoria . . . this is it, the thing that has been missing my whole life, the thing that is right.
The car hits, the brakes scream: too late, too late, too late. The pain is like lightning, my body on fire. I’m weightless, the sound of screeching brakes becoming quieter, the rain-drops no longer cold on my body, the scream of my sister rolling into an applause as I watch her.
Is this it? My life flashing before my eyes?
Jen’s face fills my vision as she watches my feet skating across the ice, my legs jumping, my body spinning, her cheeks pink from the cold, her mouth always smiling and cheering in my direction. As my outfits change and my jumps become higher and more elaborate, so do Jen’s shouts and cheers, the gap forming between her front teeth, her face becoming more beautiful with every year that passed. My memories continue as my back hits the pavement: Jen’s watchful glances across the playground as I tried to fit in with the popular crowd, always trying that bit too hard, not quite funny enough, not quite pretty enough. As the air leaves my lungs, I see how she looks at Nessa, how she knows as I did that she was the one. I watch Ed and my niece and nephew jumping over waves, the sun shining on their sandy feet and sunburnt shoulders.
The sound of Jen’s screams fades away, and the ground beneath my body falls. I’m five years old: Jen’s hands are holding mine as we spin around on the ice, our laughter holding us in a bubble as the world around us blurs, only one face holding my focus.
My sister . . . the love of my life.
If Melody hadn’t run out of de-icer that day, she would never have slipped and banged her head. She wouldn’t be left with a condition that makes her sing when she’s nervous.
And she definitely wouldn’t have belted out the Arctic Monkeys’ ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor’ in assembly at her son’s school.
If Dev hadn’t taken the kids to the zoo that day, then the accident wouldn’t have happened. He wouldn’t have left Flynn and Rose without a dad. Or shattered the love of his life’s heart.
But if they hadn’t seen the missing person report that day, they might never have taken the trip to Cornwall. And, in the last place they expected, discovered what it really means to be ‘Us’.
Available now
Lost:
Six-foot-two Irish man who answers to the name Samuel McLaughlin.
Has weak shins and enjoys show tunes.
If found, please return to Sophie Williams.
Sophie Williams has the perfect career and it's all she needs to shut herself off from the rest of the world, and more importantly, the secrets of her past.
Samuel McLaughlin is an open book. He lives for the present and life for him is his big Irish family and his friends.
Against all expectation, Samuel breaks down the walls of Sophie's ordered world and they spend the perfect week together, but when Sophie discovers the terrible truth, she is forced to leave.
But as Samuel begins searching for Sophie, a life-changing event alters how he sees life forever.
And with each passing week, Sophie seems further and further from his reach.
Available now
When one book ends, another begins . . .
Bookends is a vibrant new reading community to help you ensure you’re never without a good book.
You’ll find exclusive previews of the brilliant new books from your favourite authors as well as exciting debuts and past classics. Read our blog, check out our recommendations for your reading group, enter great competitions and much more!
Visit our website to see which great books we’re recommending this month.
Join the Bookends community: