by Jaime Loren
I could move. In a heartbeat I was on my feet, just in time to be tackled back down to the ground by Tom.
He pinned me as I struggled to fight my way into the collapsing barn.
He held me as I screamed, a painful, inhuman sound I didn’t even recognize as my own.
And he cradled me as I sobbed incoherently, begging Scott to come back.
Hours later, he wiped my endless supply of tears when I was too broken to make a sound.
Chapter 51
(Rowan)
Twenty-two years ago, April Anne Fletcher lost the love of her life.
Like mine, her life is now a web of days without nights, even though half of our time is filled with darkness. Others sleep. Those who age and fall ill; those who eat and drink—they sleep. The darkness gives them time to recover from the hardships the daylight presses upon them. For eight hours of their day, they are allowed to forget about their troubles and enter worlds where anything can happen. Worlds where they can see and hold loved ones who are no longer with them. Worlds where they can go back in time and change their future.
If she could sleep, she’d dream, and she’d dream of Scott Parker.
She wouldn’t dream of me.
She’d dream of his smile, and she’d hear his voice, soothing her as he sang. He’d place his hands on her belly as he spoke to their unborn baby, and she’d taste him as she kissed him, just as I used to taste her. Her heart would race as he took her in his arms and carried her to his bed, just as he’d done before she lost him.
Before he gave his life to save her.
He always did have to go one up on me.
Bastard.
Instead of dreaming, though, she lies permanently awake—sometimes in their bed, sometimes with the horses, and sometimes floating on the surface of the lake, which she tells me holds more meaning to her than her near-drowning could ever take away. We hide our existence from those we once knew by living at the cabin together. We can count every second in every day, and have done so many times while lying on the end of the dock, the stars and moon replacing the sun.
We have lost ourselves in books: April in writing them, and me, in reading them. I have learned more with her than I ever had in my 120-odd years before her. My world grows bigger every day, while hers closes around her, suffocating her.
She has relied on her memories to give her glimpses of Scott, and on old photos she has of him—in frames on the living room shelves, in albums she keeps next to their bed, and in boxes in the study where their past together is preserved.
I never did stand a chance with her, but I’ll never regret trying.
There is also the footage she took on her cell phone of the two of them during days of boredom when they couldn’t find anything fun to do.
Clearly I wasn’t available on those days …
Sometimes I catch her standing still, a tear rolling down her cheek. She says she’d swear he was standing next to her. She can smell his cologne, and feel his breath against her ear.
Only, he isn’t here.
I am here.
“We are alone, our unborn baby and I,” she’d said, so many times. I know it wasn’t meant to hurt me—that even after all this time, she’s still filled with grief—but it stings more than she could ever imagine.
She insists that the repetitive thump-thump-thump on her fetal heart rate monitor is a reminder that she has something to live for. It is evidence that Scott loved her. The fact she has been seventeen, pregnant, and invulnerable for twenty-two years is also proof that fate is on their side.
“I can’t give up hope,” she’d told me. “I won’t. I have to have faith we’ll be together again, just as he’d promised.”
This has been her daily mantra for twenty-two years.
“I have to have confidence he knew what he was doing when he kissed me goodbye. I have to believe he has come back for me.”
I agree with her, because I love her. She’s the only person who has made my life worth living since becoming immortal in 1909. So I help her search for him. I hold her when she cries. I promise her we’ll find him, because she deserves her happiness.
Because fate wouldn’t be so cruel to her.
We have to believe everything happens for a reason, for the sake of April’s sanity.
But the reality is, Scott William Parker is nowhere to be found.
Acknowledgments
Okay, I feel I’m going to hear that Oscars wind-up music halfway through this, but I just have so many people to thank! This novel has seen me through a lot these last six years, from two babies, to a new start in life, through a master’s degree and a change in career. The following people deserve a mention, because without each and every one of them, you wouldn’t be reading these words.
First and foremost, I want to thank Karen and Brian Lawrence. Without your continued support, I wouldn’t have been able to write uninterrupted and pull all-nighters whenever I needed to. I’m incredibly grateful to have you in my life, and I’ll never forget all you’ve done for me. I love you both so much.
Susan Spann … this book is for you. I’ll be forever grateful for your dedication, generosity, and continued support in helping me realize my dream. You went above and beyond, and you deserve all the good karma. Every. Last. Bit. I wish there were more people like you in this world. Thank you.
To my editor, Haylee Nash. Words can’t even describe how grateful I am to have met you. You’ve loved and believed in this book from the very beginning, and your professionalism and sincerity never cease to amaze me. I’ve definitely hit the editor jackpot! You’ve changed my life, and I’ve never been happier. Thank you so, so much.
To Tara Goedjen, Patrick Lenton, Michelle Cameron, and Joel Naoum—you make one outstanding team! I’m so proud to be a part of Momentum Books, and look forward to working with you all in the future. I’m in fantastic hands.
Thanks also have to go to Deonie Fiford, who helped me whip this manuscript into its final shape. It was a pleasure to work with you! Your amazing words about this novel meant so much to me.
Danielle Hurps, thank you for my gorgeous cover. It’s been weeks now since I first saw it, and I still can’t stop staring at it.
To my gorgeous children—I love you with all my soul. Reach for the stars, babies, and never give up on your dreams. Never let anyone tell you you’ll never realize them. If anyone tells you you can’t do something, send them my way. Mummy will sort them out.
Thank you to my number one fan, my mum! Thank you for passing on your love of books and writing. It’s not too late to start your novel, you know! Thanks, too, for your continued support and belief in me and in this book, and for your shoulder and ear whenever they were needed.
Desi, I’ll honor our agreement for the red carpet. And that’s a PUBLISHED promise now. Sorry, Mark.
Thank you to Brett and Dan, for simply being the most awesome brothers a girl could wish for, and for marrying Disey and Nic, whom I simply couldn’t live without. You’ve all been a fantastic cheer squad, and it’s meant the world to me. Thank you all.
I’m also incredibly lucky to have had the support of Coe Ramsey, Craig Schauer and the staff at Brooks Pierce. Your professionalism and generosity have meant the world to me.
To the Wallingford Historical Society, for helping me visualize a small town on the other side of the world that existed three hundred years ago. Thank you so much for all your help.
Tim Beckingham, you are a treasure. Not only do you save lives, you go out of your way to help those in need, whether they’re a med science student with a tough assignment, a grieving relative of one of your patients, or a writer needing help nailing a scene (and in my case, all three). I feel as though you should’ve billed me for your contribution to this novel. My sincerest apologies if I screwed up any medical terminology! Thank you, thank you.
Lauren Finlay, thank you for your continued support and enthusiasm. From reading this manuscript over my shoulder as I wrote, listening to chapters
on the phone, reading via email and listening to me bitch and moan about plot points at all times of the day and night—thank you. I will never stop looking up to you, and I’m so thankful you walked into my life twelve years ago. I couldn’t ask for a better friend. Bitch.
Tracy Buscemi. What can I say? Brought together by Nathan Bransford’s forum after realizing we both had immortal characters! What a surreal way to meet someone and make a friend. Thank you for being my first ever CP. You’re an amazing writer, my girl. I hope to be reading your acknowledgements soon!
Justine Dell, I’m so lucky to have met you. They say everything happens for a reason, and you, my sister from another mister, were definitely meant to be in my life. I’m so grateful for your friendship, and for all your help over the years!
Sarah Fine … where do I even start with you, lady? If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have accomplished this much. It’s that simple. Thank you for shaping the writer I am today, and for being there for me through all the tough times over the past four years. You’re an inspiration, and I’m honored to call you friend. Also, I still owe you a drink.
Lori M. Lee, I had no idea when I won your three-chapter critique three years ago that I’d also won a friend for life. You are by far one of the most generous, talented, beautiful people I’ve ever known. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you for believing in me, for sharing in this journey with me, and for allowing me to share in yours.
To Virginia Boecker, one of the funniest, talented, and most remarkable women in my life. What a privilege it is to know you. Thank you for all your advice and enthusiasm, and for always having my back. I look forward to many overseas reunions with you and the hilarious and gorgeous Steph Funk in the future.
Dianne Salerni, you once told me that if this book didn’t get published, you’d eat your hat. You can now breathe a sigh of relief. Thank you for believing in me! It means so much, coming from someone as talented as yourself.
Kate Brauning, CP extraordinaire and dear, dear friend. How lucky am I to have you in my life?! Thank you for sharing your wisdom and kindness. I wish you all the happiness and success.
Rachael Johns—what a powerhouse lady you are. Thank you for always taking the time to drop me a line and make sure I’m still breathing! What a beautiful, inspirational friend you’ve been. Can’t wait to gallivant with you in America again one day. (When I can afford two suitcases full of shopping.)
Kara Thomas, thank you for helping me find April’s teen voice. I’m truly grateful for all the wisdom you’ve imparted. If I can write half as well as you one day, I’ll be stoked.
To Jesse Spencer—it’s not every day the actor you imagine as your main character follows you on Twitter! Thanks for taking the time to talk to me over the years. You’re a wonderful Aussie guy.
Sarah Kolenberg, Sarah Sibson, Heidi Newton, Carli Carey, Carmen Leslie, Nadia Pryzibilla, Bec and Simon Perry, Stacey Mann, Jen Inglis, David Smolilo, Judy Taylor, Georgia Taylor, Leslee Moyle, Natalie Harding, Rachelle Hallifax, Larissa Argent, Miriam Butler, Amanda Hancock, Michelle Wyers, and Emma Wyers—what a great set of readers you’ve been! Thanks be to every one of you for your encouragement and kind words about this novel. You all gave me the strength to believe in myself, and I’m so grateful.
To Jono Houghton, for … everything. Thank you for being one of the best friends a girl could ever have in her life.
Kelly Sydenham, you have been my rock. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you as a neighbor and dear friend. Thank you for all your support, advice, and encouragement the last few years.
Thank you, Tammy and Don Giles, Bec and Jason Morrison, and Sharan and Saab Virdi. I love you all so, so much. Thank you for checking on me when I’m eyeball-deep in edits, for making sure I have everything I need to survive a week-long writing binge without having to go shopping, for our late night drinks, our family BBQs, and our afternoon coffees. I have never been surrounded by so much love and support. Thank you, my lovelies.
And finally, thank you to you, dear reader (if you’ve gotten this far!). You’re the reason I can continue to do what I do. Thank you for giving my characters a chance to win you over. I hope to see you again for Book Two! And Book Three … and Four … and … well, you get the picture!
About Jaime Loren
Jaime Loren spends her days chasing her two young children, and her nights writing or reading. So, basically, she doesn’t sleep.
She lives in Adelaide, South Australia, but dreams of returning to her small hometown where she can give her children the same upbringing she had: exploring bushland, playing every sport under the sun, riding horses, and waking to the sight of kangaroos outside.
WAITING FOR APRIL is Jaime’s debut novel.
First published by Momentum in 2015
This edition published in 2015 by Momentum
Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Ltd
1 Market Street, Sydney 2000
Copyright © Jaime Loren 2015
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the publisher.
A CIP record for this book is available at the National Library of Australia
Waiting for April
EPUB format: 9781760300081
Mobi format: 9781760300098
Cover design by Danielle Hurps
Edited by Deonie Fiford
Proodread by Laura Davies
Macmillan Digital Australia: www.macmillandigital.com.au
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