Page 178 of Oleander

P.S – I didn’t mean what I said that night in the rain. You can always come back to me. You can always call me. I’ll always answer, Cas.

Love,

Jude x

Part Three:

The Sacrifice

“Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape.”

Charles Dickens, Great Expectations.

One

Eight Years Later

Iwoke early and found Jasper already in the kitchen, stirring a pot of porridge on the stove.

“Sleep well?” he asked cheerily.

“Not particularly,” I admitted before slipping out the back door to go for a run.

Running, I’d found some particular kind of solace in over the last couple of years. It was my only form of exercise. In London, I’d do it late at night or very early in the morning, before the pavements were filled with commuters, and let my legs move as though completely separate from my conscious brain. I could plot and plan entire chapters and scenes like this, deconstruct books I’d read or films I’d watched, or some days, like today, I’d play out what my life might have looked like had Caspien chosen me that rainy night on the pavement of a street in Holland Park. I did this rarely these days, but when I did, I gave myself over to the fantasy utterly.

I’d play out an endless variety of futures we’d never gotten to live together. We were happy. Our lives were always happy, and filled with contented days like those we’d spent in London that summer.

I ran to the cottage, which was shut up and long empty. It was locked, but I peered in through the living room window to find the couch where Cas had first used his mouth on me left behind. A small TV cabinet was barren and dust-covered. I rounded to the back and found the garden overgrown and abandoned. The clothing line was bare but for a few wooden pegs aged and bleached by the sun swinging gently in the wind.

It wouldn’t take much to bring it back, I thought. It could be lived in again. I still dreamt of it frequently. Its old brick walls, thick window ledges, the scent of the forest that blew in when the back door was open, and the gulls flying overhead towards the cliffs. I’d had moments of happiness here, bittersweet and fleeting, but still, I yearned for the place like a lover yearns for their beloved.

Next, I ran to the birdwatcher hut, a harder route through the trees and over small hills and a hazardous forest floor. It was in worse condition than the cottage, certainly. A corner of its tin roof lifted up like a dog-eared book page. Moss collecting along its surfaces like lesions. I had to prise open the door to get inside, its frame swollen from rain, but once I did, I wanted to leave almost immediately. I couldn’t bear its smell or the way the shadows on its walls reminded me of heartache and loss.

Had anyone ever been inside it since I’d last been here?

Had he ever come here? Thought of me here? Yearned for me here?

I pushed my way back out and ran a different route back to the house, thirsty and breathing hard. The kitchen was empty, and I poured myself a glass of water and took it back upstairs. As I passed the music room, I could hear the TV, the sound of American accents, something that sounded like a true crime show.

Upstairs, I showered and dressed, and went down to see about some breakfast. It was still early, just after nine, according to the kitchen clock. I was toasting some bread to have with jam when Jasper appeared, carrying a food tray.

“Coffee’s still warm. I can make you something if you want?” He offered, setting the tray down. “We’ve eaten.”

“Toast is fine, don’t worry about it.”

He shrugged and proceeded to wash up the two porridge bowls and rinse out the cups.

“How is he this morning?” I asked as I sat down at the dining table and took a bite of toast.

“Same as usual. He was asking about you, thought he’d dreamed you being here.”

“He said he’s only got a few weeks left. That true?”

Jasper dried his hands on the dish towel and came toward me, taking a seat opposite.

“To be honest, he should probably be dead already. He was given a few months at the start of the year.”

We were in October.