Page 16 of The Beach Holiday

NOW

I wake up sweating. It is not a pleasant experience and so I shower straight away. Once I am dressed in a simple summer dress, I step outside. In a few strides, I arrive at the bench.

My bench. Jane is already waiting for me, and I begin to feel my heart lift and swell a little.

I have felt despondent the last few days since my last meeting with Dr Bhaduri.

There are things I was sure I was supposed to tell him, but I just didn’t know where to start.

The words are so muddled in my mind that the images swim and dart around like skittish tadpoles.

Maybe I should try and speak to Jane about them instead?

She has told me so much about herself already in such a short time, which is nice.

I really appreciate her warmth and kindness.

It is exactly what I need. I feel safe with Dr Bhaduri yet that moment I had at our last meeting has shaken me a little.

But our meets are a necessity from his perspective and so I must continue to go.

I slide onto the bench next to her and she gives me a full smile.

‘Good morning, Sadie. How are you today?’

‘I’m well. A little hot,’ I say as I shift about trying to arrange the dress so my legs don’t stick to the bench.

Jane pours the coffee as she always does.

The coffee is tasty and exactly how I would make it for myself, although I can’t remember the last time I made one. So it’s nice that someone has thought about me and made one for me.

We don’t see many people from this bench when we sit here.

We have a view of a large plain of grass and beyond that a river that disappears between some trees.

The cow field is to the right, but they aren’t in it today.

I wonder where they might be. My surroundings make me melancholic, like I am yearning for something, but I am not sure what.

Maybe I will mention it to Jane and see if she ever gets those feelings.

But I like how we can just sit. In silence for much of the time.

I’m not bothered by the silence. I don’t feel the need to fill the gaps with small talk.

Jane tops my coffee up again and offers me a biscuit, but I decline.

‘I have a bit of dilemma I’m battling with today,’ Jane begins. It’s not unusual for her to talk this way; she usually has a lot going on in her life. Unlike mine, which appears relatively calm to everyone else; except in my own head things are a little busier.

‘Oh?’ I say. I’m never really sure what to say to people these days. I would be happy staying silent if the truth be told but people tend to look at me funny when I do that. So I try and say the right thing. I’m not sure if I get it right all the time though.

‘Yeah. I need to tell someone something important today. But I’m not sure they are ready to hear it.’

‘Sounds complicated,’ I say, trying to take it all in because it did sound complicated. It sounded like one of those soap operas I had been watching on the TV at night.

‘Ah yes, this one is very complex.’

‘I guess if something needs to be said, it should be said,’ I reply but thinking about my own muddled brain, filled with information I need to be rid of. I knew I was not the best person to be giving advice.

Jane looks at me and smiles. ‘You’re right. I just want it all to be okay. I like to try and fix things.’

‘Sounds like it’s one of those things that will sort itself soon enough,’ I say, not even thinking about what I am saying. The words just seemed to come out of me.

Suddenly I feel Jane’s hand on mine, and she is squeezing it. I look up at her. I think I see her eyes glistening with tears.

Then she laughs and takes her hand away. ‘You’re so perceptive; you know that?’

I laugh too. I’m not sure what she means. I’m not sure about much.

We sit quietly for a while.

‘The weather certainly has turned out nice.’ Jane is speaking again and my train of thought drifts away.

‘Too hot for some maybe. For me actually. I don’t manage too long in the heat.

’ She pauses before she carries on. ‘But some people can. Some can spend hours in the sun. I envy those people, the ones who live in a really hot country or have lived in a hot country.’

My body jolts at her words.

The heat.

The humidity.

A flash of a face is in front of me then gone as quickly as it arrives. Blood on sand. A scream from far away. I can’t reach them. I need to reach them.

I drain my coffee cup and stand up. I know I don’t want to talk about heat or humidity.

‘Thank you for the coffee, Jane; it was delicious as usual. Same time next week?’

I don’t turn to see Jane’s face as I leave, for fear it could be the same look of disappointment I see on most people’s faces each day.

I may have left Jane in the cold with my brash exit, but her words about heat are still penetrating through me.

I can almost feel the sun burning my skin.

I rush back to the bedroom, where it’s cool, where I can push my face into the pillow and block out the memories that keep coming and coming.

And soon I know I will not be able to hold them back.