Page 33

Sophie

I pull out a compact and dab concealer on the dark shadows beneath my eyes, pinch my cheeks to give them colour and run a brush through my hair.

It’s a good job I’ll be around water since I resemble a ghostly mermaid.

I spot Adam and Wren in the distance, and click the mirror shut.

Wren’s swinging on his arm, and he’s grinning and lifting her off the ground.

Now she’s pirouetting around him. He’s copying and almost falling over.

My plan is working! They both look happy and far more relaxed in each other’s company.

Adam messaged to say they’ve been sewing together every night before a bedtime story.

He looks ridiculously handsome as he laughs and pulls faces at Wren. When he does anything. My stomach contracts and I shake the thought out of my head. They reach me and Wren scampers ahead, leaping up for a high-five.

‘Hey, Wren. And Adam.’

I stand on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, but he moves in the wrong direction, and we collide.

‘Sorry!’ he cries. ‘My co-ordination is off this morning.’

‘Is it ever switched on?’

‘Ha, true!’ He scans the outside of the building. ‘This looks impressive! It must be hellishly expensive to hire out. This is definitely not a pre-birthday party?’

I shake my head and change the subject. ‘How was the rest of your week, Wren?’

‘The best! My stitches are out, I got ten out of ten in my maths test, and Adam helped me with my sewing. Now we’re here! I’m so excited I could go pop. Pop, pop, poppety pop!’

‘Is that a new pop song?’ Adam asks.

Wren giggles and jumps up and down. ‘Are the waves this high?’ She stretches her arms as high as possible.

‘I think they’ll be poppety-pop higher,’ Adam says as his phone vibrates. ‘Hold on, that might be Ollie, saying he’s close by... He wants to meet.’ He pulls it out from his rucksack. ‘Oh, it’s an email.’

His hand quivers as he reads the message. ‘My supervisor is still on vacation, but he’s looked at your shape, Sophie. Dr Hunt thinks it’s “special and unique”, to quote his exact words!’

My heart sinks. I was hoping he’d take longer to get back to Adam, and the whole thing would be quietly forgotten.

‘I want to get on a surfboard!’ Wren says, tugging his arm.

‘Hold on a minute... Dr Hunt wants his colleagues to look over your design, if that’s all right with you? He may commission further research.’

I shrug. ‘Sure – if it helps.’

‘It does, thank you! This may take some time, but it’s a brilliant first step!’

Adam pulls me into a big hug. I momentarily sink into his chest, feeling safe and secure, the way I used to when he held me. My anchor.

My heart thuds painfully as I remind myself he probably won’t receive an answer within the next fortnight. He’ll die without ever knowing whether my shape is significant.

Adam lets go and steps back. ‘Sorry! I got carried away. Wren and I are both having a poppety-pop fantastic week.’

They grin at me, and I try to muster a smile. It’s hard to look cheerful when I know their worlds will come crashing down, exactly two weeks today.

We’ve spent the last hour bodyboarding with Wren and her classmates.

Now she’s cold and wants a hot chocolate so one of the mums offers to take the kids to the café.

Adam’s asked for a quick refresher surf lesson.

I tell him where to position his feet on the board, and try not to think about how broad and muscular his chest looks in the wetsuit.

‘You need to take a few more strokes to get ahead of the wave that’s coming.’

He pushes off, glancing backwards at the 1-metre-high breaker.

‘Look straight ahead and arch your head! That’s it. Push up on your fingertips and bring your right knee forward. Easy does it – pull the other knee to your chest. Balance and stand.’

‘I’m trying!’

‘Stand. On your actual feet!’

‘Aagh!’

Adam tumbles off and disappears beneath the foam. I breaststroke towards him as he pops up.

‘I’m good!’ He wipes his eyes, spluttering. ‘Well, I’m not. I’ve lost a contact lens and I’m still terrible at this!’

‘Some things never change.’

We’re laughing, and I’m suddenly aware that our bodies are inches apart. It feels like old times. Back then, he’d have slung an arm around my waist and pulled me into a passionate kiss. I shiver at the memory.

‘Are you cold? Do you want to go in?’

His eyes wrinkle with concern. I could lose myself in those gorgeous pools of blue.

I want to grab him and press my lips against his.

This could be one of our last chances to kiss if I return home next week as planned.

I shake away the image. This, us , can never happen.

I scrape my hair back, making sure the scar on my scalp isn’t showing.

‘I wouldn’t mind catching a few more waves. I’m pretty rusty.’

‘You haven’t been out recently?’

‘Not since I left Modbury.’

His eyes widen with surprise. ‘Why not? You love... I mean, you used to love surfing.’

I shrug. ‘I’ve been busy. Life gets in the way.’

‘It has a habit of doing that.’

That’s not the whole truth, obviously. I couldn’t face returning to old haunts. It felt safer to keep a lid on everything, and avoid the things I loved – surfing, seeing Adam and visiting Lily’s parents.

‘Go for it!’ Adam says. ‘I’ll see how Wren and her friends are getting on. Ollie and the rest of the guys should be here. I’ll introduce you... they’re all a good laugh.’

‘Are you sure you don’t want to stay in? I could give you more lessons.’

‘I think we both know how that will turn out,’ he says, laughing. ‘I don’t want to hold you back like I always used to.’

‘You didn’t. I never felt that way about you.’

‘Ditto. In case you’re wondering, which you probably aren’t... But I need you to know that.’

Adam doesn’t move away, and I can’t help but feel we’re talking about something completely different. He rakes his hands through his hair, and more memories stir as I catch a glimpse of his wrist tattoo.

‘I’ve always preferred watching you surf,’ he murmurs. ‘I couldn’t keep my eyes off you when we were teenagers.’ He takes a breath. ‘I still can’t.’

He reaches out and brushes hair from my forehead, making butterflies skitter in the pit of my stomach.

His hand hovers as if he’s debating whether to place it at the back of my neck.

I shiver again with anticipation as he stares at my lips.

I should stop this, but I desperately want to kiss him and feel his body pressed against mine.

One last time.

‘Coming through!’

A guy loses control and falls off with a shout, forcing us apart. I catch hold of his board before it whacks Adam in the face and push it towards the man. The distance between me and Adam has widened, the moment lost.

‘That was close. I almost gained a matching dent.’ Adam touches the other side of his nose. ‘I’d have lost my boyish good looks.’

No chance! You’ll always be gorgeous.

‘I guess I should go . . . ?’

His eyes are filled with hope that I’ll tell him to stay. I need him to leave before either of us tries to pick up where we left off.

‘Yes, see you soon, Adam.’

He wades away, his hair curling at the nape of his neck. He looks back one final time.

‘You keep saving me, Sophie,’ he shouts. ‘You’re definitely my guardian angel!’

I wish.

My lucky number is 13 – that’s how many waves I caught on the advanced peak in the last hour.

I managed to kick out and sprint-paddle back to catch extra multiple ones from each set, even when more guests arrived and the queue lengthened.

I pull myself out of the pool, completely knackered but on a high.

I’d forgotten how much I missed this!

Adrenaline and exhilaration pumps through my body, and my muscles scream with pain. Nothing beats this feeling – the elation of pushing myself to my physical limit and getting the timings exactly right.

After a hot shower, I dry my hair and change into jeans and a sweatshirt. I check my phone and discover a message from Flora, saying she’s arrived.

Thanx for VAT return and invite! Heading to beginners’ lesson with Stefan. FYI he’s still available. You could play lifeguard and perform mouth to mouth? xx

I’ll pass, thanks! I reply. Catch you both later xx

I haven’t told her about Adam and Wren yet.

Flora will be mad I didn’t ’fess up straightaway about my ex being back on the scene.

She’ll demand a TED Talk about Adam, with slides and a thirty-minute Q&A session.

I quickly check my emails and Instagram quilt page in case Trevor’s back.

He hasn’t contacted me all week. It looks like he’s stopped for now, thank God.

When I reach the café, it’s heaving with people of all ages, from babies with their parents to pensioners.

All their numbers are high. I spot Wren, wearing a party hat, at a table with six other little girls and their parents.

The children are talking animatedly and laughing while eating hot dogs and burgers and chips.

Wren waves happily when she sees me. I wave back and scour the room for more familiar faces.

The crowd suddenly parts and there’s Adam, with his back turned, in jeans and a blue T-shirt.

He’s chatting to a blond guy and a woman in a flowing green dress who’s carrying a baby in a sling.

Two little boys play with a remote-controlled car at their feet.

I recognise them from the photos Walter showed us in the shop.

His son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren have come at short notice!

I walk over as Chico appears and barks furiously at the plastic truck. Walter arrives three seconds later, wearing a bright-red Hawaiian shirt and a straw hat. He warmly embraces everyone in turn with one arm as he leans on his stick. I freeze.

His digit’s wrong.

It should be 8 today.

I must be mistaken. I rub my eyes, which are stinging from the water, attempting to clear them.

I blink rapidly, but I’m not imagining it.

Walter’s number has changed –it’s gone up to 21.

He has an extra 13 days to live.