Hello Stranger

by West, Jade

  We scattered and we smiled, grateful for the woman who’d been such an amazing soul, and enjoying the sun lighting up her dust as it swirled away in the breeze.

  “I love you, Mr Hall,” Chloe said, and I kissed her head, breathing in her beautiful mousy hair, glistening with shimmers of gold.

  “I love you too, Mrs Hall.”

  It was a wonderful feeling, being a man loving a woman who’d taught me to love so much.

  So many people, and so many places. So many shared memories and hopes and dreams.

  There were so many times I’d heard her thank the universe, and I’d never felt the call to thank it myself, but right there, on the heights of the Malvern Hills, I broke my own tradition just once.

  “Thank you, universe,” I said. “For giving me so much time to love.”

  “I’m right with you on that,” Chloe added.

  I’d been lucky with the follow up consultations. My CLL was there, but it wasn’t advanced as the doctors originally thought. My lymph nodes were struggling and spleen cancer was forming, but it was ok.

  For the time being, it was ok.

  The days I expected ahead of me, with an insulin bottle by the bedside, were turning into months, and they could be turning into years. Who knew?

  But Jesus Christ, I was going to enjoy all of them. Every single moment of every single day.

  “Ready to roll?” Chloe asked, and I screwed the lid back on the empty urn, taking one last breath at the beacon before I looked down into her eyes.

  “Sure am, jitterbug. Let’s get home.”

  “Super cool,” she laughed, and I laughed back with a smirk.

  “Super cool, indeed,” I said.

  It was dark when we pulled back up on the driveway that night. There was a pang of emotion in my chest when we stepped in through the doorway.

  Happiness.

  Sadness.

  A strange combination of the two.

  Chloe knew exactly where we were headed, and took the stairs right up alongside me.

  Mum’s door was already open, the trinkets on her shelves still exactly as she left them.

  And her bucket list still pinned up on her wall.

  Meet an elephant. Tick.

  Climb a mountain. Tick.

  Ride the back of a motorcycle around a sharp corner. Tick.

  Put my toes in the sea. Tick.

  Get a daughter-in-law.

  Chloe handed me a pen, and her rings caught the perfect sparkle in the lamplight.

  I’d been waiting for this.

  Waiting for the right moment.

  Waiting until we’d truly set free the woman who had cackled and laughed and smirked her way through the freedom in every day – every moment – of her life.

  “We did it,” I said to her. “Bucket list completed.”

  And then, finally, with the memory of her whooping and air-punching sounding loud in my mind, I ticked off that very last box on her list.

  Epilogue

  Ten years later

  “Dr Hall! Can you come, please? We need you in room seven.”

  I still got a burst of joy every time they called my name like that, no matter how many times I heard it.

  I scooted on down to room seven, following Erica on my whippet fast legs, scooting along the corridor.

  Logan used to call me the white rabbit. He told me that’s how he used to think of me, right back at the beginning on that train.

  The white rabbit.

  I’m late, I’m late, on a very important date.

  Only I wasn’t late these days, not anymore. My life with Mr On-Time had seen me clear of that little habit.

  I stepped into room seven, and Leona Robinson was already up on the bed, her forehead glistening with sweat and her cheeks almost crimson with her efforts.

  I put my hand on hers and smiled, and my words came out with a calmness that still surprised me, even after so long with it coming out of my mouth. My voice sounded just like my husband’s through all those years in Franklin Ward. A doctor, soothing so well.

  “Ready for the push?” I asked her, and she nodded, giving me a thumbs-up.

  “Yeah, Dr Hall. I’m ready.”

  Her husband was at her side, looking a touch more nervous than she did. I gave him a smile and told him it was going great, and he let out a sigh of relief.

  She had this. His wife had this nailed.

  Pushing, and pushing, and grimaces, and groans of pain, but Leona Robinson was a trooper as she gave birth to her beautiful little baby. Hours upon hours vanished to nothing, as those gorgeous little eyes met their mother’s eyes for the very first time.

  “It’s a boy,” I said, feeling the tears pricking, even now, after witnessing more labours than I could ever count.

  “A boy!” Leona cried, and her husband was crying too, holding her tight as I placed that tiny little beauty on her chest, skin to skin. “Oh, wow! A boy!”

  “Congratulations,” I said. “And well done, you did great.”

  Her nods and thanks were enough to have justified every year of study and training I’d ever done. Just to hear her gratitude in that special moment of her life was all the reward anyone could ever need.

  I stayed with them a few minutes before making my exit and heading back to my consultation room. I paced behind my desk for a minute, jittery legs jittering hard, even after so many years feeling steady on them.

  I could never stop it, those tears running down my face. Tears of pure joy at seeing such a magical part of so many people’s lives.

  I would never get enough of it. Not in a billion years.

  I’d calmed down by the time I sat myself down in my seat and called up the paperwork on screen, but I paused another few seconds, picking up the picture of my beautiful husband to give him my usual smile.

  “I did it,” I whispered. “Another super cool wonder under my belt.”

  He’d certainly been a super cool wonder of mine, every single day he was a part of it.

  I’d had Logan Hall at my side for six whole years before his body had finally given up the fight and taken him away from me. He’d fought his battle, as hard as he could fight it, and I’d been there through every minute, battling alongside him.

  My God, he was a fighter.

  My God, his strength had inspired me, right through to the very end.

  Holy hell, I still missed him. There wasn’t a single minute of the day I wasn’t missing him deep inside.

  My shift was almost over when I filled in Leona Robinson’s paperwork. I checked my phone in the staffroom, calling up my messages as I grabbed the novel from my locker.

  Vickie.

  You still coming to the quiz later? Gina is coming, and so is Wendy.

  I smiled as I called up the response tab.

  Sure am. I’ll see you there.

  I was still in touch with everyone from Harrow District, and had come to know every single one of them so well. They were all amazing, and so were the people Logan had brought along to me, a whole network of people who’d been such rocks to me in my grief when he left me behind.

  Nobody wants to say goodbye to the man they love at forty-seven years old. Nobody wants to stand at the podium at his funeral and try to express just how insanely incredible their husband was to them, and how much he gave them in their life.

  Logan Hall had given me everything a soul could ever give another. Support, and encouragement, and laughter, and inspiration. Nights in his arms, and his touch driving me wild, no matter how many times I’d ever felt it.

  Logan Hall drove me wild, right up until his final breath. He always would in my memories.

  I’d never have been a doctor if he hadn’t encouraged me with every part of his heart.

  I’d never have had the faith in myself to push myself through all the study and exams and the stress of training, not without him having so much faith in me that I believed in it too.

  His books were still on the bookcase when I stepped into the living ro
om that night, arranged just as we’d always arranged them. I picked up one of the novels from the shelf, holding the pages up to my nose for the glorious scent of the paper.

  I’d never forget that very first second I saw him on the train that morning – the man who was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  His shoulders so broad and suited. His tie neat and burgundy, classic against a bright white shirt. But it was his face – eyes dark and serious, brooding with more depth than I’d ever known. His jaw steady, and serious to match. His beard neat and severe. His eyebrows wise. Perfect.

  His cheekbones so defined. His hair with that flick of salt and pepper, just enough to make him look refined.

  My magician. My mentor. My lover.

  My husband.

  I glanced at the envelope on the mantlepiece – Chloe, scrawled in his glorious handwriting.

  Today I didn’t open it, I was already cutting it fine for the quiz night – fine enough to scoot on upstairs and grab my dress from the wardrobe.

  And there he was again, my husband. Memories on top of memories, on top of more.

  I had kept a few of his suits on the rack, hung up so neatly along with my clothes, and took a couple more seconds to run my fingers over the sleeves, smiling to myself for the bazillionth time at the thought of him standing there in one of them.

  I’d never forget any of it. Not one little scrap. Not until I was taking my very final breath to go and join him.

  But that wasn’t for today.

  Today was about today.

  Every moment counts.

  Tonight I’d be living some pretty damn good ones in Harrow, along with my damn good friends.

  The train was my regular journey.

  Sunnydale Viaduct and Callow Road, Eastworth and Newstone and Churchley.

  Every time I took the route I had a paperback on my lap, always sitting in that same seat all the way to Harrow, just so long as it was free to be sat in.

  And every time I thought about my hello, stranger.

  All hellos ultimately have their goodbyes. And all goodbyes hurt so much harder if the love they are founded on is so damn strong.

  Still, all hellos with people you love are worth it. They are all worth their weight in gold.

  I got up from my seat at Harrow Station, and like always I smiled at the empty seat opposite before I left the carriage.

  Goodbye, my beautiful stranger.

  Goodbye, my beautiful Dr Hall.

  * * *

  Chloe

  Hey there, jitterbug. My white rabbit, and Cheshire cat and my sparkle of golden light that lights up my heart.

  I’m sorry I had to say goodbye.

  You know when I’m writing this I can see the end on the horizon, but please don’t think I am bitter about it. I’m not in the least bit bitter at all.

  I really didn’t imagine I’d ever get this much time. I really didn’t imagine my bucket list would ever stretch so long, or give me so much.

  You brought that to me, sweetheart.

  You were the one who brought me to life when I was all but gone already.

  I’m so proud of you, Chloe. I’m so proud of the incredible woman you are.

  I’m so proud of the wisdom on your shoulders, and the compassion and love in your heart.

  I’m proud of how well you cherish every moment, and always thank the universe for every day it brings.

  Honestly, jitterbug, I thank the universe for every single day it’s given me at your side.

  Please don’t miss me any more than you have to. If there is such a thing as a soul, mine will be looking right down on yours for the rest of your life.

  I really do hope there is such a thing as a heaven, or an afterlife, because the prospect of another chance of time with you is enough to make me smile, even if my fingers are getting too weak to write this.

  I love you, sweetheart.

  Thank you, for showing me how.

  I’ll say hello to my mum if she’s up there waiting. I can’t wait to hear her cackling laugh again if she is.

  Be you, sweetheart. Be the amazing woman you are for every minute of your life you have ahead of you, and I thank you for everything you’ve given me, in both the high times and the lows.

  With the greatest blessings a soul could ever give.

  With all the love in my heart.

  From your stranger on the train, and the doctor on the ward, and the man who tried to push you away before you showed him just how bright the light can be.

  From your ever grateful husband.

  Logan.

  x

  THE END

  For Jackie

  This novel was hugely inspired by Jackie, who is an incredible woman that I have the pleasure of living with.

  Jackie has fought a very long battle with cancer, being diagnosed as terminally ill a number of times, only to battle her way back and defy the odds. Despite this, and all the trauma she has experienced and fought through, she is an unbelievably positive woman who means a huge amount to a huge number of people.

  I’ve been honoured to get to know her, and see how excellent she is with the people around her. So many friends of hers come to visit, and every single one of them values her time, her wisdom and her advice.

  My boyfriend, Tim, shares his home with her, and they are best friends with a beautiful friendship. Witnessing how close they are, and the tremendous bond they share, is a privilege.

  Jackie’s bucket list in the novel is based on Jackie’s bucket list in real life. Her personality is vibrant and unique, and she amazes me every single day. She wrote Jackie’s letter to Logan, and the chapter where Jackie is speaking with Chloe before she dies were real life words and insights of hers that Tim captured on video while she was sitting in her garden chair.

  Thank you, Jackie. I hope this novel does you proud.

  Acknowledgments

  As always, there are many people I owe thanks to for this novel.

  My editor, John Hudspith, who gives me such a huge amount of support. He is an excellent editor, and I value his input enormously.

  My cover designer, Letitia Hasser – thank you for a beautiful cover, as always.

  Jackie, for being the inspiration behind so much of this story, and my boyfriend, Tim, who I adore beyond words and has been a huge asset to me in sculpting this novel.

  To Gel, for awesome teasers and graphics. To my promotional assistant, Samantha – thank you for so much time. To my street team, who put in so much to shouting about my books from the rooftops.

  To my author friends, Isabella, Leigh, Lauren, Siobhan, Jo, Jordan, Jana, Skye… and so many others. You are such good friends and associates of mine. I admire you all.

  To my family, who I am blessed, blessed, blessed to have around me. Mum, Dad, Brad, Nan. Misha and Rodia. Andrew, Julie, Deb. Kim and Jenny. All of you mean the world.

  To my friends, Boo, Maria, Lisa, Tom, Hanni, Sue, Lauren. Love you all.

  To Jackie’s carers, who have supported her – and Tim and I – a fantastic amount over the past few months.

  To Jackie’s friends, who I have been lucky to get to know.

  All of you have been incredible. I appreciate it all so much.

  About Jade

  Jade is an author from the English countryside, enjoying a stunning location on the Welsh border. She is best known for her utterly filthy explicit novels, which she was always destined to write – being such an utterly filthy woman herself.

  In March 2018 she found her long-term partner, Jon, dead from an aortic dissection, and the catastrophe shaped her world with a hurricane of shock and misery.

  However, beautifully, she found that there was a very bright light at the end of an intensely dark tunnel, and now lives with her amazing boyfriend, Timmy, and his best friend, Jackie, enjoying a fantastic life every day.

  The past few years have inspired her novels very much, and she hopes they inspire you, too.

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