I didn’t want Dan to see that I wasn’t well. I wanted him to see a different version of me to the one he had left behind. I wanted him to see me as someone who had achieved things for herself and I contemplated telling him about the books again. I wasn’t sure why but I wanted him to know I’d done more than just be ill for the last five years. I wanted to get better so desperately. I was sick of being sick and I was sick of trying to hide the fact that I’d been in freefall towards a serious relapse since January.
It wasn’t meant to be like this. I always thought if I could be with Rupert again everything would be perfect. Was I finally learning that there is no such thing as perfection?
I stood up slowly and splashed cold water on my face. As I patted it dry with the towel I looked at myself in the mirror. With no make-up on and my hair scraped back I looked ten years younger than I was, but I also looked pale and tired. I barely recognised myself – as though I’d become a completely different person since I’d moved to York. A different person I wasn’t sure I knew very well.
‘Why are you in York?’ I asked, as I sat back down opposite him, wrapping my hands around the mug of tea he’d put in front of me. ‘And why are you living on a boat? It doesn’t seem like your sort of thing at all.’
‘The boat was Mum’s,’ he said. There was a sadness in his voice and I looked at him properly for the first time. He was a different man from the one I knew years ago. He seemed less carefree and cocky than he had been. I presumed that was the effect of his mother’s death, which hadn’t even been a year ago. He looked older too, more tanned but also more careworn: deep creases around his eyes, furrows in his brow, a sprinkling of grey in his hair. He looked older than I remember, older than he actually was.
‘She bought it not long after I went to India.’ Dan continued. That explained why I’d never seen the boat on the few occasions I’d met her. ‘She had it moored on the Leeds-Liverpool canal. After she died I couldn’t bear to get rid of it, so I had it brought up here.’ He stopped suddenly.
‘Why though?’ I asked. ‘Why York?’ I could see he was upset about his mother, but I also didn’t want to let this go.
He sighed, rubbed his eyes. ‘This is where we lived when I was little,’ he said, just as Anthony had told us. ‘It’s somewhere that is full of happy memories, from when both my parents were alive. You get that, don’t you, Jess?’
I did and I didn’t. I still couldn’t bear to be in Cambridge, still couldn’t bear to remember my dad. But maybe that could change now that Rupert and I were together again, now that Cambridge wasn’t full of memories of losing him as well. Rupert and I had to work this out, had to be together. For all the old feelings that Dan’s return had stirred up in me, as I sat here with him drinking tea I knew it was Rupert I loved. I knew I could now answer Gemma’s question with confidence. I used to love them both, but I didn’t anymore. I only loved Rupert.
But Dan would always be special to me. After my father died he had been a wall of strength. He’d been where I had been and he understood what I was going through. Rupert had been crippled by his own grief and, in hindsight, I knew that was when we started to fall apart. Dan had tried to be there for Rupert too but I think their friendship had drifted too far apart by then. For a while Rupert had been lost to both of us and, by the time he found it within himself to come back it was too late. Knowing what I now knew about what happened at Harvard made me understand more, but it also made me worried that I was losing him all over again. I couldn’t face that, and I wasn’t going to let it happen.
Dan put his empty mug down and reached across the table for my hand. My eyes met Dan’s as I looked up.
‘I’m so sorry, Jess,’ he said.
‘What for?’
‘For going to India, for leaving you. I can’t forgive myself for that.’
‘You can’t spend your life feeling guilty about things you can’t change,’ I said. ‘I gave you my blessing. You couldn’t put your life on hold because I had to. You know we were never a strong enough couple for that.’
He looked out of the window again then, and I watched him breathing quietly and for a moment I thought the conversation was over. I was starting to feel really shivery, and I wanted to go home, take some paracetamol, sleep for a hundred years or until all this had sorted itself out. He was still holding my hand.
‘It was always Rupert though, wasn’t it?’ he asked.
‘I loved you, Dan, you know that.’
‘I know, but it was always him.’
I couldn’t deny it. We both knew there was no point.
‘I took the first opportunity to leave,’ he said. ‘The moment you gave me your blessing I walked. I couldn’t cope with seeing you that ill. Part of me had been wanting to run for months and when the letter came from National Geographic I didn’t tell you. I didn’t keep it from you because I was going to stay; I kept it from you because I think if you hadn’t found it I might have left without telling you. I was such a coward.’
‘You weren’t a coward,’ I said. ‘You were human.’ I swallowed down the hurt I felt at something I’d long since suspected. ‘It was an impossible situation and neither of us were equipped to cope with it.’
‘I loved you, Jess, so much. You were my best friend’s girl and I’d resigned myself to that – but then he left and …’ He stopped but I knew what he was trying to say.
‘I loved you, Dan,’ I said.
‘But you loved Rupert more,’ he replied, still not looking at me.
‘I’m not sure you can put a value on love,’ I said.
‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘I know you and him are meant to be together, I always did, I think. Even when we lived together I had a feeling it wasn’t forever. Sometimes those summers seem like a dream – as though they happened to someone else, as though I’d fallen into something I was never meant to be part of.’
I squeezed his hand but he pulled away. I realised for the first time how different he had been from the rest of us and how hard it must have been for him to fit in.
‘What happened to Camilla?’ he asked.
‘Still at Harvard,’ I replied. ‘She got the job Rupert was supposed to get. There’s an irony there somewhere, I think.’
We sat in silence for a moment. I felt hot and shivery and I knew I should go home but there was one more question I needed to ask.
‘Do you miss Rupert?’ I asked. ‘The friendship you used to have?’
He nodded. ‘I do,’ he said. ‘I think he must too.’
‘What makes you say that?’
Dan looked at me for a moment, his eyebrows drawing together. ‘You don’t know, do you?’
‘Don’t know what?’
‘I wondered on the phone earlier, but he hasn’t told you, has he?’
‘Told me what?’
‘Rupert was here,’ Dan said. ‘A few days ago.’
‘He was here?’ I repeated. Surely if he’d been here he would have said? Surely he wouldn’t have kept this from me? ‘What did he want? What was he doing?’ I was suddenly very hot, and the boat felt stuffy. I touched my forehead. There were beads of sweat there.
‘Trying to offer an olive branch I think,’ Dan replied with a rueful smile. ‘He wasn’t ready though, and he left before we spoke properly. I told him to come back whenever he wanted.’
‘What do you mean he wasn’t ready?’
‘He doesn’t seem quite ready to get over the fact we were together,’ Dan said softly.
‘Why didn’t he tell me he’d been to see you?’ I asked.
‘I think he’s embarrassed. I’m sorry, Jess, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.’
I stood up. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said watching the inside of the boat spin around me. ‘I think I’m going to have to go.’
But before I could step away my legs gave way beneath me and Dan was there by my side, his arms around me.
‘Whoa,’ he said as he helped me to sit back down. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I
’m fine, just a bit light-headed.’ To prove my point I tried to stand up again but realised if I did the same thing would happen. I slumped back on to the seat feeling tears of frustration burn the back of my eyes.
‘I’m not OK,’ I confessed. ‘I’ve not been OK for weeks. I think it’s happening again.’
‘The ME?’ He recognised it. He’d been there before. I felt some comfort in being with someone who had seen me this ill before, who might know what to do because I didn’t. It was so much easier than having to hide it.
I nodded. I didn’t have the energy to do much else.
‘Can I get a doctor?’ Dan asked.
‘No, I just want to go home but I don’t know how. I’d have to walk into town just to get a taxi.’
‘Let me take you home,’ he said as he helped me up and, leaning against him, his arm around me for support, we slowly left the boat.
… Mum and I quickly slipped into an easy routine after I moved in. She helped me find a way to look after myself – she cooked for me and did my laundry. I felt like a teenager again, but despite my initial disappointment that my life had ground to a halt, that I’d lost everything I held dear, within a few months, despite the aches and pains and exhaustion, I was happier than I’d been for a long time. There was a palpable sense of relief at not having to be someone’s girlfriend anymore.
Instead I had the space and time to focus on my health, to focus on getting better. Between us Mum and I researched chronic fatigue as much as we could and we took an all-in approach to healing – mixing conventional medications with counselling and getting as much fresh air as I could – even if it was only a few minutes sitting in Mum’s rose garden.
I could only read for a few minutes at a time but little and often was an approach I used to help me heal, and, eventually, to help me write my book. I started writing again then, when the pain in my hands wasn’t too much. Just a few lines in my journal each day, reflecting on the day, finding things to be thankful for. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t turn into Pollyanna overnight, and there were days when the only thing I could be thankful for were painkillers, but over time something happened, something changed. My mindset shifted and for the first time since you left I felt genuinely happy.
I still thought about you, of course, but by then I had managed to place you firmly in the past, not as someone who could turn up in my present again, fixing everything.
I stopped focusing on ‘getting back to normal’ because I didn’t know what ‘normal’ meant anymore. The parameters had changed and there was a new normal to work towards – there is always a new normal to work towards. My illness taught me that. I tried not to plan too far ahead and I banned Gemma and Caitlin from talking about ‘when you’re better’. I knew that I might never be better, not in the sense they meant anyway.
And as I simplified everything in my life, as I created space and time, the seeds of the story that eventually – after much work and much editing – became my first novel were born. I don’t know where the idea came from but slowly, slowly it started to take shape. Some days I could only write three hundred words; some days I managed more. There were days when I couldn’t write at all, when I thought it would never be finished. Until, suddenly, it was.
And, just like that, another ‘new normal’ began …
36
RUPERT
As soon as he saw them something inside him snapped and he turned around, walking away from the river, away from Dan’s boat, his brain whirling. Why had Jess gone to see Dan without telling him? Why were they leaving together like that, wrapped around each other like lovers? Where were they going? He couldn’t bear to lose her, not now when they’d only just found each other again.
He walked without thinking, not really knowing where he was going, following his feet. The day was cold and dreary, the sky grey and heavy to match his mood. Nothing felt as though it had gone the way it was meant to go for weeks. Each day everything felt like it was slipping out of his grasp a little more. He knew he and Jess hadn’t been communicating well and he knew they were both keeping things from one another, unable to find the energy to talk them through. He knew he hadn’t been the best partner and that he’d let Jess down, broken his promises.
He had been trying to fix things. One of the reasons he’d been on his way to see Dan today was to tell him about the surprise he had planned for Jess, to see what he thought. Rupert reasoned that including Dan in some of the decisions he made was the sort of thing that might help them discover their friendship again, something that would make Jess happy too. He’d do anything to make her happy – but nothing he did seemed to be working right now.
When he’d seen Dan and Jess together, the intensity of his feelings left him breathless. He kept walking as though he was trying to outrun his thoughts, which were getting darker and darker. Perhaps Jess was better off with Dan; perhaps she would be happier if they got back together. Rupert didn’t think he was bringing anyone much happiness at the moment. Perhaps everyone would be better off if he wasn’t around.
He stopped himself, taking a deep breath and standing still for a moment. His thoughts were spiralling out of control and he was reminded of an afternoon at Harvard walking across Radcliffe Quad when he’d had similar thoughts. It had been the moment when he had realised how ill he was, how fractured, and he couldn’t allow himself to go to that place again. He heard his therapist’s voice in his head reminding him that there was usually a rational explanation for most things, and that when his brain got anxious and imagined the worst, he could stop himself and try to see the other options.
Jess had gone to see Dan without telling him, but he could hardly be angry with her for that, as he had done the same. Why would she go though? To talk about old times? To make amends? She might have an agenda of her own of course – Dan had left her when she was ill to get on with his own life at a time when she couldn’t get on with hers. Maybe she needed to talk to him about that.
But none of that explained why they were leaving together, or why they seemed so close. He may not have been the best partner over the last few months but surely she hadn’t turned to Dan?
He should call her and ask her to meet him. They needed to sit down and talk about what was going on. He took his phone out of his pocket and saw seven missed calls from Dan’s number but he hadn’t left a message. What the hell did Dan want? Had he been made to look a fool again?
Rupert felt the anger surge in his chest and knew that now wasn’t the right time to call Jess. Instead he turned back the way he came and headed for home.
*
When Rupert walked into the living room he saw Jess lying on the couch and Dan sitting next to her. All the anger and jealousy he’d been trying to swallow down as he walked back across town returned, burning the back of his throat like bile. He leaned against the doorframe, pushing his hands into his coat pockets. Dan stood up and turned to him.
‘You’re back,’ Dan said quietly.
‘What are you doing here?’ Rupert’s voice sounded too loud. He knew this wasn’t the question he should be asking but he couldn’t help himself.
‘Dan brought me home,’ Jess said, sitting up. ‘He wanted to make sure …’
‘Yeah, I bet he did,’ Rupert interrupted.
‘Rupert?’ Jess asked standing up and walking towards him. ‘What’s wrong? Where’s Captain?’
‘Dog-sitter,’ he replied. ‘What are you doing here?’ He repeated looking at Dan.
‘I was trying to tell you,’ Jess said. ‘Dan walked me home …’
‘I saw you,’ Rupert interrupted again, his voice still too loud for the small room. ‘I saw you at the river, I saw you with him.’ He nodded towards Dan who had sat down on the sofa again, which just annoyed Rupert even more. Why couldn’t he just leave? ‘What were you doing with him?’ he asked, his voice lower this time, sounding quietly desperate.
Jess looked up at him. She looked pale and as though she was sweating. Rupert realised that she didn’
t look well at all and a tiny fragment of his anger turned to worry.
‘I went to see Dan,’ she said. ‘I wanted to get the ball rolling as it didn’t seem that you were going to do anything. But that’s not true, is it? You went to see him last week, didn’t you?’
‘What were you doing with him?’ he asked again. ‘Why were you alone with him?’ He regretted those words the moment they were out of his mouth and he wasn’t surprised when Jess laughed at him, an empty hollow sound.
‘I’m trying to fix things,’ she said. ‘I can’t go on the way we have been – I had to do something. Somebody had to do something.’
‘I was trying,’ he replied. ‘You should have left it to me. You shouldn’t have interfered.’ He didn’t know why he was so angry with her, particularly when he knew he was in the wrong too. The anger was masking something else – worry, grief, fear.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she demanded.
‘Why didn’t you?’
They stood staring at each other for a moment, and then Jess walked away, pushing past him to go upstairs. He turned his back on Dan, who hadn’t moved or spoken, and took a couple of deep breaths. He needed to talk to Jess – he knew that. But he also knew he needed to calm down first, and they needed to talk alone, not with Dan in the house. Rupert was about to ask Dan to leave when he heard a huge bang from upstairs and the unmistakable sound of Jess crying. He heard Dan shift on the sofa behind him.
‘I’ll go,’ Rupert said without turning around.
He found her sitting on the bedroom floor, a suitcase beside her and the contents of her underwear drawer scattered around. In any other circumstance it would have been funny, but there was only one reason why she’d be packing a suitcase right now. There were tears pouring down her face. He crouched down next to her, swallowing down his own feelings to concentrate on hers.
The Pieces of You and Me Page 20
