Page 52 of Nineteen Letters

“She’d gone in to wake Ma up that morning, and she’d …” Jem can already tell where I’m heading with this because her hand comes up to cover her mouth again. “She’d … umm … passed away in her sleep. The coroner said she’d had a heart attack, just like Pa. She wanted to be with her husband, and she got her wish.” I swallow hard, and when I see Jemma wipe the tears from her eyes, I instinctively pull her into my arms, resting my chin on the top of her head. “Your mum was never the same after that day.”

She doesn’t reply but her grip on me tightens.

“I can’t believe how many stars are in the sky tonight,” Jemma says as we lie on the blanket staring up into the darkness. She seems in no rush to leave, and I’m enjoying my time with her too much to even suggest it.

“I know. You never see this many stars in the city.”

The serene trickling sound of the running river fills my ears, and crickets chirp in the distance. This is the most relaxed I’ve felt in months.

“Oh, did you see that?” she says, pointing up above.

“A shooting star.” It’s quickly followed by another one. “You need to make a wish.”

“Why?”

“It’s custom to wish on a shooting star.”

“Oh.”

I turn my face in her direction and in the moonlight I see her eyes clenched shut. It makes me think back to the first time she saw a shooting star when we were kids. The only difference is that she voiced her wish out loud that day—I’d give anything to know what she’s wishing for now.

Sadness washes over me when we finally decide to pack up and head home. I’ve missed this place, and being back here with Jemma has given me some peace, and I think it has done the same for her. I can only hope she allows me to bring her back again one day. I know in my heart Ma and Pa would want us here.

“It’s a good thing that it’s a full moon tonight,” I say as we walk back up towards the farmhouse.

“Why?”

“Otherwise we wouldn’t be able to see. I didn’t even think to bring a torch. I wouldn’t make a great boy scout.”

She doesn’t even flinch at my response. The joke is lost on her, but maybe one day I can share that memory with her.

One day.

“What are you doing?” she asks as I pull over to the side of the road and position the car so the headlights shine into the paddock ahead. I had hoped to bring her here before it got dark, but our time together by the river was too perfect to rush.

“I have one more thing to show you before we head out of town.”

She doesn’t reply, but she climbs out of the car and allows me to lead her to the barbed-wire fence.

“What do you want to show me?”

It’s dark out, but with the moonlight and the high beams from the vehicle, we should be able to see. I hope this goes to plan.

“Can you do me a favour?”

“Sure …”

“Place your hands on either side of your mouth … like this.” I move my hands up towards my face, mimicking what I want her to do. She hesitantly does exactly as I ask, but I can tell she’s confused by my request. “Perfect. Now, call out ‘Tilly-Girl’ in the loudest voice you can.”

I smile when her eyes widen. “She’s still alive?” she asks as her head snaps in my direction. “I’ve been too afraid to ask you what happened to her.”

“She’s old, but most definitely alive. The couple who own this farm, Mr and Mrs Talbot, were friends of your grandparents. They offered to care for Tilly-Girl until you were ready to come back.”

Her hands drop by her side. “I abandoned her?”

“No, you didn’t. You rang them almost daily to check on her. You had every intention of coming back for her when you were ready.”

Her gaze moves down to the grass below. “I can’t believe I did that to her.”