What Doesn't Kill You

by Laura E. James

  ‘Read me,’ the jar said. ‘Read me.’

  Alone in the house, Evie decided she could fish the first few notes out, take a peek, then pop them back in. The jar was so full, no one would know it had been tampered with. It wasn’t like she was drinking from the expensive brandy bottle and refilling it with vinegar.

  She’d been found out on that occasion.

  As she lifted the container down from the windowsill, her mobile buzzed. She managed to retain her grasp of the jar despite the rapid heartbeat and sweaty palms the sudden noise had caused.

  She swiped the phone into life and activated Griff’s message.

  Hi. Dropped Tess at the café. We’re with Olivia on Chesil collecting sea treasure. Dylan’s having great fun with Aila. We’ve got her walking to heel already. She’s one smart dog. I’ll assume you’re making the most of your quiet time. Love you. Xxx

  Evie settled at the table, unscrewed the lid of the jar and tipped out the entire contents. If she was going to read them, she was going to read them all. She could act coy and innocent come the traditional New Year’s Eve reveal. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  ‘There are loads,’ she said, revelling at the mountain of notes. ‘I’ll be here for hours. Perhaps I best stick to reading a handful.’

  She pondered on how the Happiness jar reflected her life. During bad times, it stayed stagnant, but in good times, it became full to overflowing. Since April, the number of tickets the family had added had tripled.

  ‘Right then.’ She rubbed her hands together, and picked up a yellow sticky note – one of Tess’s.

  I’ve been clean for two whole weeks!

  That was an older ticket. Evie knew precisely how long Tess had remained clean, and it far exceeded two weeks.

  Next, Evie went for the neat-edged, stark white paper. Bound to be Griff’s, she thought.

  I fixed the squeaky floorboard in Tess’s room.

  That was a big deal. Tess had opened her room to Griff.

  Evie sighed. She chose one of her own notes next, written on lined paper.

  After four long months, the cottage is full again. Griff is home.

  There was so much more she could have added to those few lines, but nothing suitable for a family reading. The day Griff moved back home had been incredible. The thought alone was enough to send Evie’s insides cartwheeling.

  She abandoned her station to open the back door, grateful of the smallest breeze. July was turning into one of the hottest on record.

  Back at the table, and in the spirit of fairness, she chose another of Tess’s tickets.

  Finally! Griff fixed that annoying squeaky floorboard in my room. One less trigger. Thanks, Griff ☺ Talking of triggers, Mum got the bully from my sports class expelled. Result. (Count this note as two, Mum. Ps: You’re awesome.)

  ‘I’d debate that,’ Evie said. ‘If I was that awesome you wouldn’t have suffered for as long as you did.’ When she’d found out what had been happening to Tess at school, she’d gone into full attack mode, emailing, phoning and visiting the principal until he had the bully removed. ‘But I love you for saying that.’ She kissed the piece of paper. ‘Who’s next?’ She checked the open notes. ‘Griff. What have you been up to?’

  I turned 40 today. (Should this be in the Happiness jar?)

  Laughing out loud, Evie set the ticket aside. They’d had an intimate gathering to celebrate that milestone, with a menu consisting of jelly, Marmite sandwiches, and orange squash. Dylan had a fantastic time. They all did.

  ‘My turn, again.’ As she opened her note, a second fell out. ‘Bonus. I get to read both of you.’

  I was assertive. I said no to helping out at next week’s Mums and Toddlers group. (It’s Griff’s birthday and Dylan wants to make jelly.)

  It was only a couple of months ago, but it was so lovely to have the memory in black and white. Evie didn’t make a habit of turning people down, but she was learning the art of saying no at the appropriate time.

  She retrieved the bonus ticket. ‘And what little joy do you hold?’

  Tess encouraged me to take singing lessons. I had my first one today. I loved it!

  ‘You have the time now, Mum,’ Tess had told her. ‘And it’s healthy to do something just for you.’

  She wasn’t wrong. Singing lifted Evie’s spirit.

  ‘I shall practice my Italian vowels later,’ she said, dabbing her finger on the sticky strip of one of Tess’s sheets.

  As of now (this will be read on New Year’s Eve, right?) I would like to be known as Tess Hendry. Is that all right with you and Griff, Mum?

  ‘Wow!’ Evie reread the comment for the sheer pleasure it gave. ‘You kept that quiet, Tess. What a lovely surprise.’ She could already imagine the look of pride on Griff’s face as he introduced his daughter as Tess Hendry. ‘You never cease to amaze me.’

  Evie hid the note in the middle of the heap, extracting one that had Griff’s modus operandi.

  I tuned my guitar today. First time in years I’ve picked it up. I taught Tess how to play the intro to ‘Smoke On The Water’. She’s a natural. Dylan’s already her groupie.

  The two-and-a-half-year-old had rocked his little socks off. Literally. Evie found them three days later, packed away in the toy box.

  These were great memories.

  A couple more each, she thought, pinching a yellow sticky note between her fingers, and then I’ll put you away.

  Started counselling today. I really think this is going to help.

  Tess was doing magnificently well, and Evie was so proud of her. She’d taken control and was dealing with her demons. Somewhere in the pile was a note of Tess’s that read she’d been clean for two months. Evie had been with her when she’d written it. They’d high-fived at the time.

  Next, another precise, ninety-degree piece of paper from Griff. Evie unfolded it and smiled at the words.

  We welcomed a new member to the family – Aila – a three-year-old female Siberian Husky, rehomed from the rescue centre. Aila is a Scottish name meaning ‘from a strong place.’ She is gorgeous.

  Griff was a man who needed a dog. It was as simple as that. A month after they’d scattered Ozzy’s ashes at The Bill, Evie broached the subject. Two weeks later, they’d fallen in love with Aila.

  ‘My turn again.’ She nudged a couple of notes out of the way, and went for one she knew she’d only recently written.

  I read an announcement in the paper today. Imogen Joliffe is engaged to be married. I hope she’s found peace and true love, I really do.

  One last round. Evie went for a thick wodge of sticky notes. It appeared Tess had written a tome.

  Stephanie is back! And I told her the stuff about Dad and she’s cool. After that, though, we had our first disagreement – we argued over what to do tonight. Stupid. (Wait, Mum! This is a Happiness note, after all!) Even though we fell out, I didn’t feel the urge to cut! And S and I made up. (See? Told you it was a good one.)

  ‘My beautiful, intelligent girl.’ Things were certainly on the up. And it turned out Stephanie was excellent girlfriend material.

  ‘Last one for you, Griff.’

  Dad’s cremation. We miss you, Dad, but you deserve a place in our jar because you brought us much happiness, and because I know you are finally happy. Give our love to Mum.

  Logan had died on April the fourth; a date Evie had branded on her mind.

  After years of fearing she’d be the one to find him dead, by a cruel and unkind twist of fate, it had been Griff who’d played out the scene.

  ‘I’ll go this morning,’ he said. ‘You had a tough day yesterday.’

  It had been tough. It had been the day on Portland Bill when Evie had disclosed the secrets surrounding Logan’s request for help. And, among other revelations, the day she’d expressed her suspicion Imogen was not all she purported to be. It had left Evie exhausted and emotional.

  ‘But it was no walk in the park for you,’ she said, reminding Griff he’d been to Logan’s to
challenge Imogen that same afternoon. ‘That can’t have been easy, judging by the hour you got home.’ She’d invited him back that night, but was in bed asleep before he’d returned. She’d been aware of him pulling back the duvet and climbing in beside her, but she hadn’t been able to properly wake to ask him how things had gone.

  And then he was dashing out again.

  ‘It was fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you about it when I get back.’

  He called her thirty minutes later. He’d discovered his father in bed, cold and still, but serene, a drained bottle of whiskey in his hand and his red tin beside him, emptied of his cocktail of pills.

  Logan had executed his exit plan.

  Wiping away a tear, Evie scooped up the Happiness tickets and tipped them back into their makeshift home. Griff’s note was right. Logan was where he wanted to be, and that needed to be celebrated, not mourned.

  She reached behind her and retrieved a pen and her notebook from the worktop. Tearing off a strip of lined paper, she smiled.

  I read some of these notes in July. They made me happy.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Griff

  The welcome sea breeze tamed the hot August sun as Griff and Evie strolled the length of Chesil Beach from Olivia’s craft centre to Madame Dubois’ café bistro.

  Two paces ahead, Dylan tiptoed in and out of the gentle waves, giggling as the water and shingle washed over his feet.

  At Griff’s heel, Aila was keeping an attentive eye on the youngster.

  Griff checked his watch. His father’s watch.

  Hours before he’d died, Logan had passed it to him, saying he could no longer wind it or change the hands, and it would fit Griff ‘far better than that stupid one that’s always slipping around your wrist.’

  He was right. It did. And wearing it gave Griff the sense his father was still close by.

  ‘We’ll collect the girls and head off,’ he said, his arm relaxed and loose around Evie’s waist.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Her fingers were looped through his belt. She gave it a tug and Griff looked down at her.

  ‘I’m fine. Stop worrying. It’s a relief. One more thing to tick off the list.’

  The sale on Logan’s house had completed that morning. They’d accepted a lower offer than the asking price, as the buyer had an issue with it being a house where someone had died. It had been impossible keeping that fact from any of the prospective purchasers.

  Griff had kept the details to the minimum, though, as he had with Evie about his father’s death.

  The picture he’d painted for her was less colourful than the real thing.

  Logan had taken his cocktail of drugs, he had consumed a large bottle of whiskey, and they had knocked him out, but in the state of unconsciousness, he’d thrown up and suffocated.

  It was enough that Griff knew. His family didn’t need to imagine what he saw.

  ‘Thanks for helping me sort through his things.’ He pulled Evie’s hand to his mouth and gave it a kiss. ‘It was tougher than I expected, especially when I found those letters.’

  In among Logan’s private papers, Griff had found a bundle of handwritten letters addressed to Marilyn. Each envelope was marked with a month and year in the top left-hand corner.

  They were all dated after Marilyn’s death.

  ‘Have you read them?’ Evie looked at Griff.

  He shook his head. ‘No. I’m going to burn them.’ It was fitting to give the love letters the same send-off as Logan. ‘It sounds daft, but I feel like the ashes would be carried up into the clouds and they’d reach Dad. It’s up to him what he does with them, then.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound daft at all.’ Evie rubbed his back. ‘It’s a lovely thought.’

  They walked the rest of the journey in a contemplative silence, stopping outside the café to exchange a full-on kiss.

  ‘I have to get the girls,’ Evie said, her reluctance to part making Griff smile.

  Dylan scrambled up the bistro steps after her, leaving his dad and Aila to enjoy the hush of the water and the shushing of the pebbles.

  ‘I used to bring Ozzy here,’ Griff said, rumpling Aila’s neck. ‘I couldn’t keep him out of the sea.’

  ‘Well, look who it is, the only Welsh Highlander in the village.’

  Instantly recognising Frank’s voice, Griff smiled and waved without turning. ‘How are you, old man?’

  As Frank pulled alongside, Aila’s tail switched from idling to overdrive. ‘I’m good, thanks. Haven’t seen you in a while. Everything okay?’ He made a fuss of the dog.

  ‘Everything’s great, thanks. We’re taking the time to regroup. Learning to live as a family of four.’

  ‘Five,’ Frank said, pointing to Aila.

  ‘Five. As much as I loved my dad, it’s been wonderful having Evie around.’ With more time to spend together, Griff and Evie had rediscovered the joys of cuddling on the sofa watching soaps, eating dinner at the kitchen table, and sharing a shower in the morning. Their love had deepened; matured. Grown stronger. ‘I think we’ve all benefitted.’

  ‘Sounds as if you’re getting sorted. Don’t rush yourself, though, Griff. Logan was a big part of your life. And Evie’s. Well, all of you. I hear Tess was an absolute star with him.’

  ‘Yeah. She’s pretty special.’

  ‘Did you ever get to chat to Olivia about teens? Do you remember? That freezing day at the start of the year when we were doing a beach clean-up and you squelched your way out of the Harbour Inn?’

  Griff nodded, then laughed as he recalled the day. ‘I never got round to asking Olivia’s advice. I’ll drop by when Dylan turns thirteen.’ He commanded an excitable Aila to sit. ‘I did squelch that day. My jeans were wet. I’d been at The Bill and ended up sprawled on the grass stopping a young lad from being swept into the sea.’

  ‘I win the bet.’ Frank clapped his hands.

  ‘What bet?’

  ‘Olivia and I had a tenner each riding on why your trousers were wet. I won.’

  ‘Do I want to know why Olivia thought I was soaked through?’

  Frank sealed his lips and shook his head.

  Laughing again, Griff slapped the older man on the back, wished him well, and sent him on his way. ‘Say hi to Olivia and tell her we’ll be in soon,’ he said.

  Frank saluted.

  ‘Hey. How’s my girl?’ Tess ran to greet Aila, sending her into another frenzy of ramped-up tail wagging. ‘All right, Griff? Stephanie’s mum’s holding a soiree this evening and she’s asked me to invite you and Mum. Stephanie’s dad will be here. I’m quite nervous about meeting him. Do you think he’ll be all right with me being the G word? Ginger?’ She beamed at Griff and pointed a finger. ‘Got you.’

  ‘Bonjour, Monsieur Hendry.’ Stephanie slipped in beside Tess. ‘Will you be coming tonight? I’d love for you to meet my father. He’s a marine scientist. I think you will have plenty to talk about.’

  ‘We’ll be there, won’t we?’ Evie joined the gathering, with Dylan bringing up the rear. ‘Dylan’s had his very own invite. He’s very excited.’ She picked him up and plonked him on her hip as he brandished a small French flag at Aila.

  ‘We’ll be there.’ Griff waved to Madame Dubois, who was standing in the café doorway. ‘We’ll see you later. Right, Portland Bill here we come.’

  To Griff’s delight, the lighthouse was open to the public. It was a glorious day, perfect for taking in the view.

  With Tess and Stephanie taking Aila for an ice cream, Griff, Evie and Dylan made their way into the building.

  ‘I’ve never been in here,’ Evie said. ‘I brought Dylan at Easter, but it was closed. I always seem to choose the days it’s closed.’

  ‘You’ll love it, especially the view from the top. Come on.’ Taking charge of Dylan, Griff motioned for Evie to go ahead, and the trio started to climb the black, metal steps. They stopped at each landing point to allow Dylan to rest his legs and peek through a window.

  Every oth
er flight saw the toddler hitching a ride with his dad.

  ‘Round and round we go,’ Griff said, keeping Dylan’s energy high. ‘There are about a hundred and fifty steps. And there’s this huge bulb at the top. I bet Mum can get there before you.’

  ‘I bet Mum can’t.’ Evie put her hand to her chest and feigned panting.

  ‘I bet you can if I do this.’ Griff patted her bottom and she picked up the pace.

  The final set of steps was trickier to negotiate. It was narrow and vertical, more like a ladder than stairs. Evie climbed up first and waited for Dylan, who was protected from falling backwards by Griff.

  Once all three were safely at the top, Griff lifted Dylan into the crook of one arm, and pulled Evie into the other. They stood, looking out over the Bill.

  Below them to their left was the busy little café and ice cream parlour, and further back was a cluster of multi-coloured huts, which always reminded Griff of shoe boxes. Further still was the white tower of the bird observatory.

  ‘Stephie!’ Dylan wriggled and pointed to where Stephanie, Tess and Aila were queuing for ice cream. Aila was fidgeting as much as Dylan.

  ‘Tess is doing well, isn’t she?’ Griff said. ‘I’m proud of her.’

  ‘Me, too. I think she’s going to be fine.’ Evie nestled into Griff’s shoulder. ‘And I know they’re still young and finding their way, but she and Stephanie seem really happy.’

  ‘They take good care of each other. And have you noticed how when one is talking, the other is completely tuned in? They’re great listeners.’ A skill Griff had taken forty years to learn. He drew Dylan’s attention to a string of kayakers straight ahead, then said to Evie, ‘Tell me if I don’t listen. It’s important to me that you know you’ve been heard.’

  ‘I promise,’ Evie said, inclining her head until her cheek touched Griff’s chin. ‘And you tell me when things get too much. You don’t have to save the world, just be in ours.’

  Lowering Dylan to the floor, Griff directed his son’s interest towards the large lenses and huge bulb, then he wrapped his arms around Evie.

  Over her shoulder and through the lighthouse windows, Pulpit Rock challenged him.