‘And you.’ We chink our glasses together. ‘We never did make sense of the world.’
‘No, I’m not sure if anyone can.’
As the sun sets, I take the metal box from under my bed. It takes all my strength to lift it up and take it out to the lounge. I take out the dozens of letters written to Emily, all started and never finished.
I kept telling myself I was waiting for the right words, but now I see I was stalling for time. I struggled to write down the events that happened because some part of me still couldn’t accept what was. Maybe if I had written them down, I wouldn’t have been held hostage by the past for so long.
A gust of wind blows in as Marco bowls through the front door. The letters fly up in the air and then scatter on the floor.
‘I’ve brought you some jam.’ He looks at the letters strewn on the floor. ‘Shit, sorry.’ He starts picking them up. ‘Where do you want me to put them?’
I point to the box but then change my mind.
‘Would you mind burning them?’
‘Sure. I’ll put them in our incinerator tomorrow.’
‘No. Would you mind burning them now, Marco? Throw them in there; I’m done with them.’
I point to the AGA and watch as Marco tips the box and the letters slide into the fire. They catch alight.
‘I thought I’d have a go at cutting our hedge, William, but I can’t find the loppers.’
‘You’re going to cut it?’
‘Yeah. I promise not to cut it into a shape.’
I smile, remembering the time he chopped his father’s hawthorn hedge at the front of their house into a shape that looked like an elongated penis.
‘Thanks, Marco. I think I left them beside the garden shed, or maybe down by the apple tree.’
‘You know I said that you did it, William.’
‘Did what?’
‘The penis shape.’
‘Haha. Did you?’
‘Yeah, I thought it was worth a shot. Dad didn’t believe me, of course; he extended my grounding for another week for telling a lie.’
‘You were such a funny boy. Some of the things you did had your dad and me in stitches. You were always thinking up schemes to get rich. Remember when you decided to breed and sell mice and then found out that the demand wasn’t as big as you thought?’
‘Oh, yes—don’t remind me. I don’t think Dad thought my schemes were very funny.’
‘Oh, he did—but he had to put on a serious face. You’re going to have to look after one another after I’m gone.’
‘Don’t say that.’
‘Marco, we can all see what’s going on. I don’t have long.’
‘I’m not really comfortable with this, William.’
‘I’m sorry—but pretending just makes it harder for me. I need your help with some things.’
‘Like what?’
‘You know how I talked about selling the antiques?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ve changed my mind. Other than one chest, I want you to have them all. But don’t feel like you have to keep them, Marco. You can sell them and set yourself up in a business or something.’
‘William, they’ll be worth hundreds of thousands.’
‘I hope so. Don’t keep them sitting around gathering dust like I did. I kept them because they reminded me of my mum, but you don’t need to do that. You don’t need to see a piece of furniture to remind you of me.’
‘William …’
‘Please let me finish. The library has a crowdfunding page. It’s set up to raise funds for the manse so the community can keep the library. I offered them the Chippendale butler’s chest in the back bedroom. I thought you could help by selling it for them.’
MARCO
I search William’s face for any signs that he knows I’m involved with the sale of the manse. All I see are his smiling blue eyes and the familiar crinkle at the edge of his mouth, like he’s about to laugh. He’s laid his colourless hand on top of mine, and the contrast between the two makes me want to pull mine away. I want to carry on pretending that he’s not dying, but he keeps making that harder to do.
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
‘They need the funds by next Friday, so get whatever you can for it.’
‘It’s a bloody Chippendale, William. You don’t just grab the first price you’re offered. It’ll need to go to an auction house.’
‘I don’t have time for that, and I don’t think they do either.’
‘Okay.’
‘You could put it in your dad’s shop over the weekend.’
‘Yeah, I’m sure someone will give you a few hundred for an item that’s worth thousands.’
‘Every little bit helps. A village needs a library, Marco; like a body needs a heart.’
‘Alright, William. I’ll make a few phone calls and see what I can do.’
‘Thank you, Marco. You’re a good boy.’
‘I’m not sure about that, but it seems I’m about to be a rich one, thanks to you!’
‘Huh. That’ll only get you so far. When you’re dying, you know what really matters—and believe me, Marco, it isn’t money.’
‘Right. Is this where you give me my next life lesson, or a quote from one of your friends? I was starting to worry that you might be losing it. I haven’t had a lecture for a few days.’
‘They’re not lessons. They’re just thoughts.’
‘What are your thoughts, then?’
‘Connections are more valuable than money. Humans aren’t meant to operate on their own. It’s easy to shut down, but we need each other. I got lucky when I found you and your dad. You both helped me connect back in.’
‘How?’
‘You both thought the best of me. That’s a great gift to give another human. Don’t isolate yourself, Marco.’
‘I’m fine, William. It’s easier to be on my own. Anyway, I have you and Dad.’
‘For the moment. What I’m trying to say is that things will never replace people.’
I hear in his voice that he’s tiring. ‘Alright, I think that’s probably enough for the day. You rest now. I’ll come back later, and you can torment me some more then.’
‘Can you take that chest now?’
‘Yes, if you promise to sleep.’ He nods.
He’s already asleep when I return with the chest from the back room. I pull a cover up around him, and have to swallow a huge lump in my throat as I leave.
I struggle getting the stupid chest through the hole in the hedge without scratching it. I have to leave it sitting out in the garden while I try to find the loppers. Finally, I see them resting at the side of the shed.
‘What are you doing with those, Marco?’ Dad calls out as he walks towards me.
‘I’m just going to make the hole in the hedge bigger. Did you know that William wants me to have his antiques?’
‘Yes. He talked to me about it. It’s very generous—but, as he said, you’re like a son to him.’
‘That’s the bit that makes me feel bad. He’s always been there for me, and I’ve taken that for granted. I’m only just realising it now.’
‘Least you’ve realised it. What are you doing with the chest?’ He nods towards the furniture on the lawn.
‘William wants me to sell it and give the money to the library.’
‘That puts you in a difficult position then, doesn’t it?’
I’m grateful for the fading light, and hope it hides the surprise on my face. I can feel Dad looking at me, but then he turns and walks away. The chest feels like it’s doubled in weight as I drag it through the hedge.
EMILY
It’s a funny thing when you realise that you’ve been listening to the wrong story your whole life. In one moment, everything you thought you knew turns out to be nothing but big fat lies. Even your own mother ran off and left you had been on repeat throughout my childhood, yet that was never the truth. Replacing the words ran off and left you with was taken from you changes the
whole picture.
I imagine my fifteen-year-old mother cradling me and then someone ripping me away from her. That must have hurt her so much. But at least she got a chance to hold her baby; Rob stole that from me. I move my legs to the side of the bed, and a sharp pain just under my rib reminds me to move slowly. They’re saying I have to stay for another week, but I don’t mind if it’s longer. There’s always someone popping in to say hi, or to check on you. It’s the first time in years that I’ve felt like I can think straight.
I take down the map of Scotland and fold it up gently. Even I know that ‘I promise never to do it again’ should only be used once.
I jump when I hear a noise. I’m surprised to see Colleen back.
‘I just had to come and tell you,’ she says with a huge smile on her face. ‘We’ve just had the best news.’
‘What?’
‘The buyer withdrew his offer. Now we at least have more time to find the money.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. Apparently, the buyer’s accountant rang Beatrice and gave her an earful. He said that he’d had a call from someone who told him that the building had suffered some major structural damage in the last storm. He said his informant was well acquainted with the building, and that he and his client didn’t appreciate their time being wasted. They want nothing more to do with the sale.’
‘But we didn’t have any damage.’
‘I know. It’s strange—but it works in our favour. Nancy’s the treasurer on the committee, and she came straight over and told me. She was one of the members who voted against selling the manse. She told me that the amount of money that our crowdfunding page has raised in such a short time surprised the other committee members. She said not only did it show them how much the manse means to this community, but it also made them think they could try crowdfunding for the church footings.’
‘That’s fantastic.’
‘I know. All I need now is for you to get better so you can help us.’
‘I will. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking while I’ve been lying here. I’d like to come and stay with you for a bit. If that’s still okay.’
‘God, of course it is. You can stay forever.’
‘I don’t need forever, but at least a few weeks. Enough time so Rob can move his stuff out.’ I don’t want the tears to come, but they do.
Colleen wraps her arms around me and lets me sob into her chest. For once she doesn’t say anything, and just rubs my back until I finish crying. I feel the space between us grow smaller. She pulls away and kisses me on the forehead.
‘You’re doing the right thing.’
‘I know, but it’s hard.’
‘Of course. You love him. But believe me, Emily, you can’t change him. He needs some help.’
‘He’s not going to like my decision.’
‘No, which is why you can’t tell him alone. You need to let us support you. We can get the police to have a word with him.’
‘I don’t want the police involved. I don’t want to press charges. I just want him gone.’
‘Okay, but they’ll let him know that charges will be pressed if he comes anywhere near you. Or I could kill him.’
‘You don’t need to do that. Don’t worry, he’ll leave me alone. He does know that what he’s done is wrong.’
‘I’m sure he does. It’s just a pity that it doesn’t stop him doing it.’
I’m grateful for the interruption when the tea lady comes in. I take the cup that Colleen offers me and sip the tea through the straw. ‘I’ve been thinking about something else too.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I’d like to sell my grandmother’s house.’
WILLIAM
I think that if I write the end now, then, when it’s time for me to leave, I’ll be able to choose which story I want to sit in.
I wonder about that four-minute gap … after your heart stops beating and before your brain shuts down. Is this where we let go? Like the space at the end of an exhalation, before you take the next breath in.
When the pain gets too much, I ask Arlo to read to me. He chooses one of my books and flicks through the pages until he finds something he likes. He looks up at me once, then bows his head and starts to read. The words come through muffled. Like I’ve slipped into a warm bath and my head is submerged just below the surface. The past and the future fall away, and I hear a voice talking about the still point. That seems like a nice place to rest.
Acknowledgements
Many people have made this book possible. A very ugly first draft was produced at AUT as I studied for my Master of Creative Writing. Thank you to the tutors, but especially to James George who was my supervisor. Huia Publishers invest not just in a project but in their writers. I feel grateful to have them by my side. Thanks to the editing talents of Bryony and Daisy, the finished product reads so much better. Thanks also to the design team at HUIA and Catherine for her beautiful illustrations on the cover.
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