99 Days With You

by Catherine Miller

  ‘What about Everlasting Acts?’ said Nathan. ‘I like the idea that it’s what started this whole thing in the first place.’

  ‘Yes! That way it can be for other things too. It can fund simple trips like this one for people who aren’t daredevil enough to jump out of aeroplanes.’

  ‘Yeah, so it’s more of an us idea… Like how this whole thing started.’

  Emma’s cheeks flushed with pride. The idea that something good was going to come out of this filled her with a new sense of purpose. To go with the ‘us’, Emma decided to link arms with Nathan. It was an offer of support and a step towards no longer feeling awkward in his presence.

  There was no smooth way of making such a manoeuvre though, especially when she was thinking about it so consciously. But then, what happened to never wasting an hour? It was time to be brave. Emma went for the lunge. It was like she was a clumsy teenager again – though, really, had she ever graduated from that phase? Nathan had been her first kiss. Managing not to fall over her own feet, Emma linked her hand through his arm, the bag of food dangling between them. She wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she’d been hoping for. One not dissimilar to when they’d first kissed, perhaps. That sense that he would rip her clothes off in five seconds given half a chance. As it was, he didn’t even switch which hand the bag was in to stop the food from banging her leg.

  ‘Are you okay?’ She didn’t know what else to ask. What other question was there that would help unlock why he’d changed without unlocking everything he’d been through.

  Nathan took hold of Emma’s hand and held it briefly before letting go. ‘We can’t be a thing. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and it just can’t happen.’

  They weren’t far from the graveyard now. Only a hundred metres or so and they would be outside the church, with their little cottage across the road.

  Emma’s heart sank towards her knees as she ground to a halt. She stared at Nathan for a moment, wondering what had prompted his change of heart.

  There was no one around, but Emma was embarrassed and hurt by the public declaration. It might only be the souls stranded in the churchyard who bore witness, but still it was a hard thing to hear.

  ‘Fair enough,’ Emma said, trying not to let her feelings reach the surface. Not wanting to think on it further, she started to close the distance towards the cottage.

  ‘I didn’t mean that I don’t want to – I do – it’s just…’

  Emma wasn’t listening. She was too busy concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. It was good to concentrate on something physical to stop the imminent tear leakage that was threatening.

  She should have trusted her instincts. She’d known something was different. She’d sensed it since he’d woken. Perhaps he’d moved on to the next woman he wanted to get with.

  The cottage and what had felt like a once-in-a-lifetime romantic trip were obviously just because he felt sorry for her and the cancer treatment she was facing. It was all to do with wanting to carry out her everlasting act and nothing to do with any feelings he had for her.

  Those had gone along with his lump.

  Thirty-Six

  There wasn’t anywhere for Emma to hide her upset, however much she tried. Rushing to the cottage was all very well and good, but she’d not thought ahead enough to realise she wasn’t in possession of a key. And she’d not rushed off quick enough, because Nathan was still keeping up with her.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted that out like that. I need to explain.’ Nathan rested the palm of his hand on the small of her back.

  Automatically, Emma flinched away. ‘You’ve made yourself quite clear.’ She didn’t need to hear the reasons he wasn’t attracted to her. She needed to focus on herself, and right at that moment that meant eating above all else. ‘I need to eat.’ If the only sausage action she was getting was of the battered variety, then she wanted to enjoy it.

  He let them in without saying anything more and Emma raided the small kitchen area to find plates and cutlery. Following her lead, Nathan helped dish up the food. Between them they got everything ready and laid out on the small dining table that was tucked neatly against the wall in the lounge. Emma realised all it needed was a candle to be the perfect tribute to a romantic moment.

  It was as far away from that as possible. It was just Emma’s luck that being whisked away – the most romantic gesture ever carried out for her – had absolutely nothing to do with Cupid. Instead, it was a friend making sure she got to do stuff before her treatment got too much. Or the cancer took over.

  ‘I want to explain,’ Nathan said, as Emma tucked into her first chip.

  It was a big chip. Not one that was easily navigated without choking to death if she tried to talk.

  ‘It’s not that I don’t want to. I think you’re one of the most unexpected delights to have come into my life. I’ve never known someone so beautiful and selfless. But something has changed.’

  If Emma hadn’t been so busy with her food, she would have sung ‘la-la-la’ and stuck her fingers in her ears. She didn’t need to hear why she was wonderful and also why she wasn’t in one statement. Swallowing down the last of the chip, she was able to put up a protest. ‘Honestly, you don’t need to explain yourself. It’s fine. We don’t have to talk about it.’

  There were so many explanations running through Emma’s mind – everything from him having caught something unsavoury from one of his exes to realising he didn’t find her attractive and now considered their kiss a mistake. She didn’t need confirmation as to which was correct.

  Nathan hadn’t started eating yet. It wasn’t going to stop Emma from digging in. She was ravenous. That in itself was enough to make her want to cry.

  ‘I need to tell you, but it’s going to sound crazy.’

  That was a good description for everything that had happened these past few weeks. She was beginning to think nothing would surprise her, but then there was every possibility that thinking that was about to jinx her. She allowed a pause between mouthfuls. ‘Go ahead with the crazy.’

  ‘It’s to do with the dream.’ There was hesitation in his voice. ‘It’s changed.’

  Emma knew that what he was saying mattered. It didn’t make sense, but rather than grabbing another chip, she put her hand halfway across the table. If he wanted something to hold, it was there. She wasn’t going to make the mistake of going all the way again, only to be rebuffed like she had been outside, but it was a gesture to show she was a friend and was there to listen if he needed to be heard. ‘Go on.’

  ‘I don’t even know what to make of it. The change, that is.’ Nathan took her hand and studied it for a while, like it would help.

  ‘What is it?’ Emma encouraged.

  Nathan stared at his uneaten pie with a bone-shatteringly tired gaze. ‘You know how I’ve always thought this would be the year that I die? Because of the dream I keep having?’

  It was such a crystallising thought. ‘Have you had your results?’ Emma wanted to chastise herself for not asking the question before. If he’d had the results while he was still at the hospital, of course his behaviour would have changed. Why hadn’t she thought to ask before?

  ‘No. They won’t be through until we’re back in Salisbury. It’s not to do with that. It’s to do with the dream.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘It’s changed. At first I thought it was a mistake and I’d heard something in my sleep, but it keeps happening. Every time I sleep I hear the same thing.’

  ‘Hear what?’

  ‘Most of the dream is the same as it was. I’m in a hospital room, I’m struggling to breathe, there’s someone there and I’m not sure who it is.’

  ‘So what’s different? What do you hear?’

  ‘There’s a baby crying. Now every time the dream finishes, there’s a baby crying.’

  ‘Oh.’ It was as abstract as the rest of the dream. Emma didn’t understand. Weren’t dreams just our daytime fears coming
to haunt us? Certainly that’s what her dreams tended to be. Whatever was troubling her was sure to crop up at night. Maybe Nathan had some kind of fear of becoming a father. ‘What do you think it means?’

  Nathan held onto her hand tighter. ‘I wish I knew. I realise it might be nothing, but I keep coming back to the fact that all of it must have some significance. Why would I dream it otherwise? I’ve had a while to think about this, and every time I hear that baby, I’m almost sure it’s part of me.’

  ‘And if it is?’ Maybe Nathan was having second thoughts about them creating an embryo together. She would understand if he were.

  ‘At first I thought the dream was a way of encouraging me to preserve my fertility. But now I think the dream’s a warning.’

  ‘A warning about what?’ Emma poked another chip in her mouth. The timing might not be perfect, but she needed nourishment.

  ‘It’s not that I don’t want us to get close. I’m just freaking out, and I know I’m getting ahead of myself… But I’m just worried that, you know, if we get too intimate… I’m worried I’ll get you pregnant.’

  Emma did actually choke on the chip a bit this time. She’d not signed up for an immaculate conception quite yet. ‘I think we’re both adult enough to know there’s protection to prevent that.’

  In a way, she felt relieved. She’d been filled with worry over what she’d done wrong, but it was just a dream stopping Nathan. Something that was nothing to do with her. But the knowledge of that didn’t stop the hurt driving its way into her, and she wasn’t able to look directly at him.

  Nathan raked a hand through his hair, as if getting hold of his roots might ground him somehow. ‘But protection isn’t one hundred per cent effective. Nothing is a complete fail-safe. There’s only one way we can stop it happening. We don’t need any unexpected babies. Not right now. I know that sounds harsh, but we need to keep you healthy.’

  For the first time in Emma’s life, she was gobsmacked. She’d been close to it a few times – the closest being the time a book was returned to the library with brown stains on most pages which, judging by the smell, well, it wasn’t chocolate. But that hadn’t left her literally speechless, unable to form any words. What Nathan had just said, Emma was struggling to understand.

  ‘Let me get this right… Your dream now involves a baby crying, and you’ve interpreted that as a reason for us not to have sex? If, indeed, that was on the cards – which, right now, was a big assumption on your part.’

  ‘I know it sounds daft. But you couldn’t have chemo if you were pregnant. And I figured with the fertility treatment they’ve started you on it might be even riskier. You’ll be more fertile. Emma, you have to understand, I’ve had this dream so many times. Almost every night for my whole life. I know it’s going to come true. And I can’t help but think it’s a warning. It’s been driving me mad thinking it over. I just don’t understand what it means otherwise.’

  There were many things Emma had thought Nathan might say, but this was so far removed from any of them she didn’t know quite what to make of it.

  ‘What else has your dream stopped you doing?’ There was an anger rising in Emma.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  She pushed her chair back, wanting to distance herself from the insult. ‘Exactly that. What else has this dream stopped you doing? In all these years, when you’ve been having that dream on repeat, what have you decided to not do because of it?’

  ‘Well, nothing.’

  ‘So in all those years it didn’t stop you doing anything?’ It was hard to fathom how maddening the statement was.

  Nathan shrugged, as if what he was saying was logical and made some kind of sense. ‘If anything, it did the opposite. It made me do all the things I was scared of.’

  ‘But now it’s made you scared of something. Me.’ There was hurt trailing through Emma’s words that she’d not meant to let loose.

  ‘Not you.’

  ‘Then what? If you’ve spent every moment taking every risk that life has to offer, why would you worry about it now? Why would the very slim possibility of creating life scare you?’ Emma was letting hurt and anger cascade out of her like a waterfall.

  ‘Because I’m scared of losing you.’

  ‘Well, you’re losing me either way! It’s a dream, Nathan. That’s all it is. Nothing should govern your entire life, especially something that isn’t true. The dream shouldn’t have any bearing on you. On us. It only does because you’re letting it.’

  ‘But if it’s not true, why do I keep having it?’

  It was a bit too much when she was hurting, exhausted and hungry. She didn’t have any of the qualifications required to answer Nathan’s question.

  ‘People have recurring nightmares. It only matters because you’re hanging onto it.’ Emma stood up.

  ‘I’ve never known what to do about it.’

  Emma lifted her plate. She needed to get away, even if the only place to escape to was the bathroom. And she was taking the chips with her. ‘I’m not sure I’m the person to help you. At least not today.’

  ‘Don’t go. We need to talk some more.’

  But Emma was already gone.

  As she sank down onto the bathroom floor, feeling like a fool, she thought that perhaps she might have come up with a better plan. But she was too hungry to concern herself with the hygiene particulars of eating in the same room as the toilet.

  It didn’t make her feel much better though; only less hungry.

  ‘Emma,’ Nathan said through the bathroom door. ‘You can’t stay in there all evening. I’ll sleep on the sofa. We can go back first thing tomorrow.’

  ‘Will you shut up? I just need the chance to think.’

  There were certain occasions when thinking was such a crucial thing to do. People didn’t do enough of it. Those thoughts would end up bringing about actions, and those actions would have consequences. Right now, Emma needed to think about consequences, because what she did next would really matter.

  Nathan was having a recurring dream that was affecting his actions. It wasn’t quite voices in his head telling him what to do, but all the same, he was listening to the dream above all else, beyond the point of reason.

  Sometimes, for all the thinking in the world, there were no obvious answers. One man’s dream was another man’s madness. Emma was no longer worried about getting to grips with what stage their relationship was at; she was more worried about Nathan and how a dream was dictating his life. They already had a reality that was tough enough to deal with. They didn’t need the fiction his dream was creating adding to that heavy load.

  Thirty-Seven

  Nathan

  There was nothing Nathan could do other than respect Emma’s wishes and give her the peace and quiet she required. He knew his explanation sounded crackers. Her response was confirmation of that fact.

  With nowhere to go inside the cottage that would give Emma the space she needed, Nathan had to come up with another plan.

  ‘I’m going out,’ he said to the closed bathroom door.

  Once he left, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He really was tired. Finally, his sleepless night was catching up with him. Realising he didn’t have the energy to embark on a long trek, he crossed the road to the churchyard in the hope of finding a bench – somewhere to rest his weary soul.

  This wasn’t how any of this was meant to be going. He loved Emma. Having never experienced it before, he was at a loss as to how to convey how he felt. He wanted her to know that he loved her, but somehow everything he did was making him look like a prize idiot.

  Who fell in love with someone and did everything they could to make them happy, but also kept them at arm’s length? To protect what, exactly?

  The crying baby had only appeared in his dream a short while ago, and yet the puzzle of what it meant had consumed him. He had utterly convinced himself that it meant he would get Emma pregnant, and the potential consequences of that were too painful to consider. It seemed e
asier to just decide they should never have sex. He hadn’t even stopped to consider whether that was what Emma wanted.

  Circling the church with the wind against him, it seemed that no one round here ever required a bench to sit on, so instead Nathan opted for a sheltered patch of grass near the grave of someone called Doris Moore.

  He was glad it was only the wind battering him and not rain. ‘I hope you don’t mind me intruding on you like this, Doris. I just need a quiet spot to think.’ Nathan wasn’t sure on the etiquette of graveside conversation. On the one hand it seemed a tad inappropriate; on the other, he was probably the first company Doris had had in years.

  ‘A lot has happened to me recently,’ he said, as if Doris was somehow listening. ‘I’ve always thought my life was going to change when I turned twenty-seven. Most people would be looking forward to getting married or having a kid at my age, but here’s me with a complex about dying. A bit young, I realise, but I’ve always known that this is the year that will be my last. The one in which I die. Did you have any inkling? Like before you knew, did you somehow know?’

  There was a patch of clover in the grass by Doris’s grave. Nathan wove his hand through them, trying to spot one with four leaves. He needed to find something that would bring him good luck. ‘I don’t think it’s the norm for anyone to know. Okay, fair enough, it might be different if you have a diagnosis or you’re given a life expectancy, but to know before you know those things – that’s not the average experience, is it?’

  It was eerie in the graveyard, with only the floodlight from the church illuminating the outside space. It summoned shadows where there was nothing to see and created images that weren’t there. If Nathan’s imagination was as strong as what he produced at night, he could well invent the ghost of Doris sitting next to him. At least he knew she wasn’t going to answer anytime soon. He had to hope not anyway.

  ‘And I don’t think it’s the norm to let dreams affect the way you act either?’