by Shari Low
Chin on her knees now, Hannah went on, ‘My mum pointed it out to me years ago. She told me that story so many times. It sounded like quite a day.’
‘It was perfect.’ I wasn’t entirely sure if I’d said that out loud. ‘The perfect day with the perfect people. I wouldn’t change a thing.’ I definitely vocalised that because I could hear my voice crack as I ended the sentence.
Hold it together.
I’ve no idea why that suddenly seemed like the right place to have the conversation I’d been avoiding for so long. Perhaps it was the feeling that this was somewhere I’d felt so loved, so protected. Mark and I had been so completely and spectacularly in love. My girlfriends had been by my side. And life had yet to kick the crap out of my naïve optimism that nothing could touch us, that we were an unbreakable gang who would live the best lives.
‘Hannah, I’m so sorry,’ I said, repeating my words from earlier, but this time, having the strength to go further. ‘I know you and Ryan must blame me for your mum and Nick’s deaths and I understand. I really do. I blame me too. I know it’s a cliché, but I’d do anything to be able to go back and do it all differently and I’d give anything to have them here with us. I don’t know what I can say to you, because words can’t bring them back, but I didn’t want you to think I’ve just moved on with my life. I can’t. And the reason that I’m not asking you to forgive me is because I know you never could. I’ll never forgive myself either.’
Her eyes, her mother’s eyes, were cloudy as she turned to me, and I saw her brow crease. ‘I don’t understand.’
My heart sank. I was making an arse of this. Making it worse. I needed to explain myself better. I was still trying to find the words, when she continued.
‘Aunt Carly, why would you think you were responsible?’
There was screaming, the uncontrollable, excruciating sound of pain, but it was all inside my skull. She didn’t know. She had no idea. But…
‘I pushed your mum into buying the flying lessons for Nick. She wasn’t sure and I coaxed her into it. And if I hadn’t…’
‘No,’ she interrupted me. ‘Aunt Carly, that’s not how it happened at all.’
My throat was tight as I answered. ‘What do you mean?’
I watched as her body slumped, as if she was finally taking a stone out of a dyke and letting the grief consume her. She sobbed, a heart-breaking, guttural sound that made me fly to her side, so that I could wrap my arms around her. Her whole body shook as she wept in my arms, and my heart broke for this young woman who’d been through so much.
Eventually, as her tears slowed, there was sadness in every word as she began to explain. ‘I know my mum spoke to you about the flying lessons, but she decided not to do it.’
Now I was the one who didn’t understand.
‘Then Nick borrowed her laptop and he saw the website there, realised what she was planning. He was so into it, and gutted when I told him that she’d changed her mind. Me. It was me. And I was the one who played a game between them. Nick told me not to let her know he’d found out, but to persuade her to do it because he thought it would be a blast. So I did. I coaxed her into booking it, even though she was so scared, and I thought I was so smart, because Nick was delighted. Then…’ Another sob. ‘Then they died. I understand how you’ve been feeling, Aunt Carly, because it’s exactly how I’ve felt from the moment I found out they were gone.’
As her tears fell in rivers, Jess and Kate reached out to her too, desperately trying to use physical touch to sooth her.
A couple with a small dog walked past us, just giving a glance to the four women on the steps, one of them holding another, tears blinding all of them.
‘That’s why I couldn’t face you all since the funeral. I know how much you loved her and the thought of seeing you just killed me because, to me, you’re all part of her. It just hurt too much. I’m so sorry. I know I should have been braver. Just one more regret on the pile. I wish I could go back, I wish I could change everything,’ she was choking out the words now.
My arms were still around her as I held her tightly, stroking her hair. ‘No, no, no, you don’t have to apologise to us. Hannah, it wasn’t your fault. It really wasn’t. It was just fate. Just the way things turned out.’ Even as I was saying it, the blanket of angst and despair and regret and rage that had clouded every day since Sarah died began to lift, replaced with nothing but concern for this special woman.
It took a few moments, but Hannah eventually pulled back, used the bottom of her T-shirt to wipe her face, managed something close to a smile. ‘You weren’t saying that a minute ago when you were blaming yourself,’ she said, with the kind of understated, acute perception that her mother delivered into every messed-up situation I found myself in.
‘I know, but I’ve got double standards and I reserve the right to use them whenever it suits me.’
Like a lifetime of moments I’d spent with Sarah, Carol, Kate and Jess, we somehow pivoted from tears of devastation to the comfort of laughter.
‘That’s very true,’ Kate confirmed, as an explosion of feelings hijacked my mind. Sorrow for Hannah, who’d borne the weight of this unfounded guilt. Incredible relief as a chunk snapped off my own mountain of guilt. Sadness that we’d waited so long to have this conversation and an overwhelming regret that we had been so wrapped up in our own self-loathing that we hadn’t found a way to comfort each other over the last two years.
‘Now you know all this, you don’t hate me? You’re not disgusted?’ Hannah went on.
‘Hannah, please… we love you. You did nothing wrong. And I know if your mum was sitting here right now, she’d be mad as hell at you for blaming yourself. You need to let it go, my love. You need to forgive yourself because no one, including your mum and Nick, would ever blame you for this. Let those feelings go.’
‘I don’t know if I can,’ she said, her expression earnest, full of sorrow.
‘Well, you have to,’ I said, squeezing her again. ‘You now have four aunts who know exactly what’s going on and we’re not standing for it. Actually, three, but we’ll fill Carol in later.’
Hannah managed a sad smile. ‘I always loved your friendship, you know. My mum used to say that, after us, it was the biggest blessing in her life.’
‘Ours too,’ Kate said. ‘That’s why we’re here. And we’ve got you, Hannah, we really have. None of this is on you, I promise.’
A hesitation, then Hannah dried her eyes again. ‘Okay. Thank you. So much. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.’ We could all see that she meant every word.
Another few moments passed in a soothing silence as we all rebalanced on the shifting landscape of the truth. I hadn’t caused the accident. All this time, beating myself up, had been so pointless and there was such a release in that. But…
‘Are we good?’ Jess asked, sniffing, then kicking in with a bit of levity. ‘Any other problems? Any more irrational regrets or feelings that we want to discuss?’
I shrugged awkwardly, making both Kate and Jess groan.
‘What?’ Jess asked, exasperated.
‘It’s just that…’ I paused, then decided to get it all off my chest. My guilt may have decreased, but it hadn’t been wiped out completely. ‘I can’t help wondering what would have happened if my crazy scheme hadn’t brought them together in the first place. That was the first step and it was down to me. If I hadn’t been so reckless and fickle, Sarah could have met someone else, had a completely different life.’
Hannah thought about that for a moment, before pushing herself up from the stone step. ‘I think we should go home. You need to see something,’ she told me. ‘You all do.’
22
New York, Half An Hour Later
Rise Up – Andra Day
In the centre of the screen, Sarah was sitting in an overstuffed cream armchair, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, just a bit of mascara and lip gloss on her beautiful face. The pale blue of her shirt brought out the indigo of her eyes
, and her straight-leg jeans were the old battered favourites that she’d had since we were teenagers. She’d found it hilarious that the tears and frayed patches, earned over years of wear, had caught up with today’s fashions to make her trendy. Her legs were pulled up beneath her, and her feet were bare. It could be a scene from a Ralph Lauren campaign, the casual elegance of a woman who was absolutely comfortable in her own skin.
Hannah’s face filled the viewer now, her eyes investigating something on the top of the camera, checking a setting or perhaps adjusting a lens. At maybe nineteen or twenty, the confidence that maturity had given her wasn’t quite there yet and she chewed her bottom lip as she worked.
‘Okay, Mum, I think that’s it,’ she said, backing up, satisfied that she’d mastered the video. With the same easy grace as her mother, she took the other armchair in the frame, identical to her mum’s, separated by a small, beautifully carved, dark wood side table. I recognised it. Not long after Sarah and Nick and the kids had moved here, I was visiting her for a few days and we’d spotted it in a mid-town flea market. Sarah had fallen in love with it, but she was never one to indulge herself. I’d circled back the following day and bought it for her birthday. When I gave it to her, she’d cried. They’d moved a few times since then, but the table always went with them, and now it was in the corner of her bedroom, between the armchairs they were sitting in.
Hannah pulled her legs up underneath her, mirroring Sarah, subconsciously chewing the end of her pen as she checked the notepad on her knee, then spoke to Sarah. ‘Remember, don’t refer to me in the first person – speak like you’re talking to strangers who don’t know you. Don’t worry about any mistakes though, Mum, I’ll edit them out.’
‘I think you might have to edit a whole lot of this out,’ Sarah said, flashing that shy grin that was so quintessentially her. ‘I reserve the right to approve the final edit. You know, like Beyoncé.’ That made them both giggle, their laughs so similar it was like listening to the same sound in stereo.
Hannah turned to face the camera, cleared her throat, projected her voice in a very succinct and professional way. ‘Hannah Russo. Psychology. Interview with Sarah Russo on 14 July 2015. Topic: The Science of Soulmates. Sarah…’ Hannah began, and her mum’s expression flinched with surprise and a little amusement. Not ‘mum’ any more then. ‘We’ve had many discussions on the subject of soulmates. As you know, many in the science world believe that the concept of soulmates is a romantic notion with no basis in fact. Yet, you are a firm believer in soulmates and their validity in our lives. Today I’d like to talk to you about why you hold those beliefs.’
Hannah cleared her throat again and any parent who’d ever watched their child at a sports event, or a recital, or a concert would recognise Sarah’s expression of encouragement and pride.
‘So tell me,’ Hannah went on, eyes flicking to her notes again. ‘What does the term “soulmate” mean to you?’
Sarah took a moment to consider her answer. That was her way. She was thoughtful, pensive – qualities that were there when we were kids, but that really came into play when she qualified as a teacher and knew that everything she said reached the ears of people who could be inspired or informed by her words.
‘I think that the answer is right there,’ she said softly. ‘To me, a soulmate is someone you are destined to be with, someone who is connected to you at the very deepest level, with an unbreakable bond that endures a lifetime.’
Hannah nodded while her mum spoke, her eyes flickering occasionally to her notepad, queuing up the next question. ‘Do you feel you have a soulmate?’
Sarah’s smile widened. ‘I do.’
‘Can you tell me when you discovered that, how it came about?’
Again, Sarah paused, reflected. ‘I discovered that the night I met my husband. It’s a funny story…’ Sarah leaned forward, speaking in hushed tones. ‘Do you want me to actually share the story of how we met? Give all the details?’
Hannah leaned forward, matched Sarah’s tone. ‘Erm, yes please. If you just tell me everything, I can edit out the bits that aren’t relevant later.’
‘Okay.’
They both sat back, cleared their throats, smoothed down their shirts and adopted the professional posture they’d had before.
‘I met my husband back in 1999. Actually, that’s not quite true. I met him for the first time when I was seventeen years old, on holiday in Benidorm. I had a holiday romance with his friend, and he had a holiday romance with mine. I guess in a way it was the perfect start to an unusual story, that, to me, shows how sometimes fate leads you to where you’re meant to be and to who you’re meant to be with.’
There was a brief pause as she gathered her thoughts. ‘I’d just come out of an incredibly toxic relationship. I won’t go into the details…’ For all of Hannah and Ryan’s lives she’d protected them from the truth about who and what their father really was: an abusive, controlling bully who treated Sarah like a possession. ‘I’ll just say that I finally found the courage and opportunity to leave him. At that point, I pretty much thought my life was all mapped out for me. I’d gone back to college to train to be a teacher, I had two young children, and I had no time or energy for relationships. More than that, I wasn’t interested in meeting someone. I’d seen the worst of what relationships could bring and I was so happy to have escaped, that I promised myself I’d never jeopardise my freedom again.’
Hannah was still listening, her head moving slowly up and down, reinforcing the validity of her mother’s points.
‘It was a shock, then, when serendipity led to a meeting with an old friend I’d lost contact with. You see, there had been a group of us that had been inseparable for years, until my husband had effectively cut everyone I loved out of my life. One of the great joys was to rediscover those friendships again.’
Hannah still said nothing, letting her mother’s story unfold.
‘My friend was going to meet an ex-boyfriend, the holiday romance from many years before, that she wanted to reconnect with, and she persuaded me to go with her. My children were spending time with their father, and I had nothing planned so I went along with it, just delighted to laugh again. It had been a long time…’
A breath, then she shook off the sadness.
‘So I went. My friend…’ She broke off, leaned forward, and went to informal, hushed tones again. ‘It was your Aunt Carly, you know that, don’t you?’
‘Mum, how many times have I heard this story?’ Hannah drawled. ‘Of course I know.’
‘Okay,’ Sarah whispered, then sat back and reverted to her camera tone. ‘When we met my friend’s ex, it became clear that there was no longer any chemistry there, no romantic interest from either of them, but I had a very different experience. As soon as I saw Nick, it was like a bridge came down and joined us. It was like I knew him. I could see who he was. It was unexpected, especially as I’d met him very briefly many years before and barely remembered him, yet this time… it was like finding a piece of me that I didn’t know I’d lost. The wonderful thing was, he felt the same. I’ve heard people talk of love at first sight, and I believe that exists.’ A low chuckle escaped her. ‘The friend I mentioned earlier swears she’s experienced that many times.’ That thought obviously amused her and I felt my heart swell a little because she was referring to me with such amusement and tenderness in her voice.
I watched, spellbound, as she went on, ‘But I think this was more than that. It was a recognition. A feeling of having found your person. A deep connection that felt like coming home, of being exactly where you belonged, a love that was so strong it could endure anything.’ She broke off. ‘Is that too cheesy?’
Hannah rolled her eyes. ‘You’re always too cheesy, Mum. It’s who you are.’
Their giggles were infectious.
‘Right, I’m going to come in with a question.’ Eyes down to the pad again, then back to her mum. ‘So what you’re saying, Sarah, is that you and Nick recognised each other as soulm
ates?’
Sarah nodded. ‘Yes. Because this felt like it was more than just a meeting in this lifetime. I don’t know whether I believe in reincarnation, but I choose to believe that Nick and I knew each other in another lifetime. Our souls are intertwined. And when our story ends in this life, we’ll be together in the next one too.’
‘And Aunt Ca—’ Hannah stopped. ‘And your friend, the one who led you to your husband, did she find her soulmate too?’
Sarah thought about that for several seconds. ‘Yes, I think she did. But, here’s the thing. I think “soulmates” are more than just romantic partners. I truly believe my children and my four closest friends are my soulmates too. In this life, that friend led me to where I was supposed to be. I’ve had the most incredible marriage, and there are no words to express how blissful my life has turned out to be. No matter what happens over the coming years, I’ll always be grateful because I found the people I belong with.’
‘And if there is a next life?’ Hannah asked, her academic interest in the topic now replaced by something more emotional, as if this were just a mother and a daughter, having one of those beautiful moments that they would always remember and treasure.
‘Then I’ll find my children and those friends in that one too.’
‘Okay, Mum, thanks. That’s perfect. I’m gonna ace this course.’ A giggle, then a pause. ‘I’ve got a question, though. Not for the tape, just for me,’ Hannah said, although obviously the tape was still running. ‘If you could change anything about your life, what would it be?’
Sarah didn’t even pause before answering. ‘Not a thing. I know that’s a cliché, but I truly mean it. You and Ryan are everything. Nick is the other half of me. And my girls, your aunts, are my sisters. I’d have felt lucky to even have one of those blessings in my life, but to have so many…’ she tailed off, and I could see a tear running down her cheek. ‘Because of you all, I know what love is. I know how to give it and I know that I’m loved. And really, that’s all that we want in life. Love. Compassion. Forgiveness. Acceptance. Laughter. To have people who care if you’re happy, who will celebrate with you, and who’ll stand beside you in your worst moments. I have that. So no, I’d change nothing. No matter what happens, I’ve lived my best life.’