When I Knew You

by KE Payne

  Ash’s eyes roamed over the last few paragraphs. She remembered her visit to The Fisherman, trying to appease the teething Chloe. They’d sat outside, Ash recalled, and had been pleased to find a table down by the river as far away from everyone else that they could find. Livvy had made a joke to the waiter about her daughter not liking the food there and the waiter not laughing, but Ash nearly choking with laughter over it. It had all been in Livvy’s deadpan delivery, Ash remembered now, the crushing feeling in her chest returning as she held back the tears.

  How could she honour this last wish, after everything that had happened? How could she expect Nat to come back down to Cornwall and have one last dinner with her when Ash had been stupid enough to let her leave without telling her how she felt about her? More than that, Ash knew she’d never be able to sit opposite Nat, having to hear about her new life in Belfast, knowing she’d never be a part of it. It would all be just too painful.

  Ash’s hand dropped to her side as Widgeon leaned against her leg. She pulled his ear though her hand, her mind turning over. Six out of eight wishes wasn’t bad. Livvy would totally understand. Ash looked to the table again, her phone close by. But what if…?

  Her heart started to pound. Would Nat want to do the last wish? Maybe she could put the ball in Nat’s court, and then leave it to her to decide whether she wanted to fulfil this last wish before she left for Ireland. Ash lurched forward in her chair, sending Widgeon stumbling back, and snagged her phone from the table. Her fingers trembling at the prospect of seeing Nat again, Ash dialled her number, her adrenaline rapidly dwindling down to a trickle of disappointment when she heard Nat’s automated voicemail. She killed the call, then sat brooding. Now she’d implanted the seed, Ash knew she needed an answer. She opened up her emails, found Nat’s email address at St. Bart’s, and wrote:

  Hey Nat,

  Hope you’re okay.

  Ash’s face pinched. Would Nat be okay? She deleted the words and instead wrote:

  Just opened Livvy’s last letter. It was way more painful than I could have ever imagined. Did you read it yet? If you haven’t, read it soon and tell me what you want to do. I desperately want to honour her last ever wish, and I hope you do too.

  Let me know your decision.

  Ash.

  Kisses? Ash’s frown deepened further. No kisses.

  She hit send and switched off her phone, holding it in her hand and tapping it against her lip, deep in thought, pleased she’d thought to leave the decision to Nat. It was up to her now. If Nat didn’t want to see her again, then fine. If she did? The tapping slowed. Then Ash would deal with that, if and when.

  Her phone buzzed against her hand. Ash pulled it from her lip and swept her thumb across the screen, bringing up her emails.

  Auto reply.

  The email address Natalie.Braithwaite@stb.nhs.org is no longer active. All emails to this address have been automatically forwarded to Jack.Greene@stb.nhs.org. If you have any queries, please contact the hospital on…

  Ash stared at the email. So, there she had it. Nat had left St. Bart’s and gone to Belfast already. Couldn’t wait to get out of London. Ash was sure Nat had told her the post wouldn’t be available until November, and that she wouldn’t be ready to leave for another week yet, but she must have left early. Ash’s hand flopped to her side. Nat really was gone. Her mind thick with confusion, Ash picked her phone back up and drew up Google. She frowned. What was the name of the hospital in Belfast again? Royal something. There it was: Royal Victoria. With a sinking heart, Ash found the phone number for the hospital and dialled out.

  The hospital’s main reception answered on the fourth ring.

  “Hi.” Ash’s throat was dry. “I don’t know if you can help me, but I need to find an email address for one of your new cardiology consultants, please? Her name’s Natalie Braithwaite.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  A light drizzle was falling against the window, blurring Nat’s view outside. Faces down on the street became distorted, cars and buses melted as one. She braced her shoulder against the cold wooden frame of the window and stared out, unseeing, trying to pass off the persistent hot tears that needled the backs of her eyes as just tiredness. There was nothing more she could do, and even though her heart was begging her to keep trying, her head told her it was pointless.

  Ash’s prolonged silence had made her feelings to Nat perfectly clear, and even though she had clung to the faint hope for the past week that Ash might find a way to let go of the past and give her another chance, this had finally convinced Nat her fight was over. She shoved herself away from the window and wandered back into her lounge, kicking a discarded sock out of the way. It was all over. Her, Ash, Cornwall. The only faint pinprick of hope was the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to endure Belfast after all. The formal letter she had written to her supervisor explaining her decision had been surprisingly easy, bringing with it a profound sense of relief.

  Nat’s gaze rested on the pile of books stacked up on her table. The calmness which always accompanied the prospect of an afternoon delving into her reference books returned. Since her return from Cornwall, she had plunged herself into some research as a way to stop herself from fermenting in her own abject misery. It had been a godsend too, pulling her mind away from her unhappiness and offering her a new focus. A message from The Lancet had been one of the many messages left on her phone while she’d been away; a new research opportunity—just the sort she could really get her teeth into—had been put to her, and she’d jumped at the chance. Working from home would be just what she needed now, allowing her the flexibility to work as much or as little as she wanted, and offering her the chance to study just where she wanted too.

  And Nat knew exactly where she wanted that studying to be.

  She sat in her chair and closed her eyes. A brief lull in the traffic outside brought a quietness, instantly transporting her back to the peace of St. Kerryan. Her mind took itself on a journey to the harbour, where Doris bobbed patiently waiting for her passengers. To the coarse pebble beach by Holly Cottage, where the water lapped quietly at the shore’s edge, and then on to Widgeon, no doubt somewhere at Ash’s side. And what of Ash? Would she be thinking of her right now? A sigh left Nat’s lips. Somehow she doubted it.

  Not wanting to, but unable to help herself, Nat pulled her phone from her pocket and found a photo of her and Ash, taken the morning on the dunes before they’d kissed in Ash’s truck. She stared, seeing everything she ever wanted in a person in the eyes that gazed into hers, and knew that even if she never saw Ash again, she’d never forget the way she’d looked at her that day. Nat ran a finger gently across the screen of her phone, over Ash’s face. Kissing Ash had just released all the pent-up emotions that walk on the beach had manifested. Ash had felt it too, Nat was sure of it. In the way she’d looked at her, a flicker of a reminder of something they once used to have.

  Nat glanced at the letter on the table next to her, from the Royal Victoria. They’d been more than understanding, Nat knew. She put her phone down and picked the letter up.

  Dear Dr. Braithwaite,

  We are sorry to hear of your decision not to take up the offer of the post of…

  Jack Greene had been horrified. Nat had heard on the grapevine too that Richard had been disappointed, but all Nat had felt was the burden lifting from her shoulders and floating far away from her the second she’d written the words that she’d wanted to write for weeks.

  Nat looked away. A shimmer of insecurity returned at the thought of what her future now held. Would she move somewhere else? Could she? Her apartment, spacious and bare at the best of times, suddenly felt cavernous. Nat pulled at the cuff on her sleeve, looking down at the leather band on her wrist, and pulled on it, twisting it round her wrist, warding off the stab of panic that she knew was just one more thought away. If she stayed in London, her life would remain unfulfilled. Nat concentrated on her breathing, making a mental note to endeavour to find something outside the c
ity boundaries. Something smaller, more personal. Perhaps not even an apartment, more of a house. Or a cottage, maybe. Not that it could ever be like Holly Cottage. Her breathing quickened.

  This was no time to be thinking of Holly Cottage again.

  Nat sprang to her feet and walked over to her books. She needed a distraction from her thoughts that constantly tugged her back down to Cornwall, taunting her, needling at her insides, teasing with what her life could have been like. She sat at her desk and opened up the first book where she’d left off the night before, then picked up her pen. She read, her eyes not seeing the words, and tapped the pen against her lip.

  The buzz of her intercom, piercing through the quietness of her apartment, startled Nat. She looked to her door, her pen dangling between her fingers. It would be Jack, or Maddie, or—heaven forbid—Richard, come to try and make her see sense about Belfast. She could hear their voices now: You were made for this job. It’s everything you ever wanted, isn’t it?

  Nat looked back down at her book. Well they could stay right there, outside her door. None of them truly knew her, and none of them would ever be able to convince her to change her mind.

  The intercom buzzed again, longer this time. More urgent.

  Whoever it was, Nat was determined they’d not sway her. Sighing, she put her book down and rose, stuffing her pen into her pocket as she wandered to the door. She lifted the receiver, not getting the chance to speak before she heard her voice.

  “It’s me,” Ash said. “I really need to see you.”

  ❖

  Nat’s heart hammered in her neck at the sound of Ash’s voice. Ash was in Cornwall. With Widgeon. And Gabe and… She wasn’t here. How could she be?

  “Please let me up.” Ash’s voice sounded breathless. “Please. I need to see you.”

  Blindly, Nat pressed the intercom and stepped away. She unlocked the door and pulled it ajar, then wandered back into her lounge. Her mind raced, scenarios and conversations coursing through her brain as she paced the floor, dizzying her.

  Ash was in Cornwall. Ash wasn’t here.

  She turned at the squeak of her door.

  Ash was here.

  Nat looked at her, standing in the doorway, looking so adorably lost. Nat watched as she came further in, shutting the door behind her, and stood, unsure where to stand or what to do with her hands. Nat knew she should go to her, put her at her ease, but her feet refused to move.

  Because Ash was here.

  “I got the train.” Ash shook her head. “I mean. You know.” Her face coloured. “To talk to you.” She looked down then back up to Nat. “I need to talk to you because ever since you left the other day, I’ve been wishing I’d talked to you more.” She lifted out her arms. “So here I am.”

  Nat couldn’t speak. Ash had travelled five hours on a train because they hadn’t talked enough? She looked questioningly at her, seeking answers in her eyes, then stood, dumbly, as Ash came closer to her. Nat watched her as she looked around the room, knowing she should say something—anything—to her, but no words would formulate.

  “Drink?” Finally she managed something coherent.

  Ash shook her head. “I’ve been really stupid,” Ash said. “I mean, really stupid.”

  Nat didn’t answer.

  “I rang Belfast,” Ash said. “They told me you turned the job down.”

  “How could I go?” Nat asked. “When it would mean leaving England…and you?” She looked at Ash. “If I stayed, then I thought maybe we’d have a better chance of something…”

  “You can’t not accept it.” Ash shook her head. “You just can’t.”

  “I can, and I have,” Nat said. “There are plenty of research jobs out there. Do you know,” she said, “now I’ve made the decision not to accept it, I feel as though a weight has been lifted.” She blinked. “For months I’ve been suffocated by it all. But I made the decision the minute I had to leave you in Cornwall,” Nat said smiling, “and it was like a light-bulb moment.”

  “You’d change everything for us?” Ash asked. “Everything you’ve worked so hard for?”

  “Don’t you see?” Nat said. “I want to give it up. I’m tired, Ash. Tired of being this person everyone expects me to be.” She smiled. “All I ever wanted was to do research, but that was never enough for my father, or for Richard,” Nat said. “A quiet medical research job where I could just be left alone.” She looked at Ash. “You know he got me the job, don’t you?”

  “Your father?”

  Nat shook her head. “Richard.”

  “Richard?” A look, sharp and swift, which Nat hoped might be jealousy crossed Ash’s face.

  “He put in a word for me, although no doubt ably encouraged by my father to do so.” Nat frowned. “I felt railroaded into going for the interview,” she continued, “just as I’ve felt railroaded all my life.” She met Ash’s gaze. “But no more.”

  “But I can’t believe you’d actually sacrifice Belfast for me,” Ash said.

  “Belfast isn’t a sacrifice,” Nat said. “Belfast was something I thought I wanted when I didn’t have anything better in my life. Then you came along and you were way better than anything else in the world.” She reached out and took Ash’s hands in hers. “You were more fulfilling and more rewarding than anything I could ever imagine, and at the end of the day I wanted you more than I wanted the job.”

  “Wanted?”

  “Want.” Nat pulled her hand from Ash’s and brushed a finger lightly across her collarbone. “I want you so much, Ash. Everything I want in my life is standing in front of me right now,” she said. “Everything else is immaterial.” She threw a look to the letter from the Royal, still on her chair where she’d left it. “It was easy telling them”—Nat smiled—“because I’d rather be with you.”

  Ash didn’t speak.

  “I’d do anything for you.” Nat took Ash’s hand again and kissed it. “I was stupid enough to let you go once,” she said, “but I’m never letting you go again.” She gazed at her. “It’s always been you, Ash. No one but you.”

  Nat paused.

  “What is it?” Ash asked.

  “But do you want this?” Nat asked. “Do you want me?”

  Ash looked at her in a silent reply then leaned closer, cupping Nat’s face in her hands. Nat closed her eyes as she heard Ash whisper her name, shivered as she felt the first feather-light sweep of Ash’s lips on hers, her light touches igniting something deep inside her. Nat went to pull away, but Ash’s lips found hers again, drawing her back. Nat deepened the kiss, feeling the contact she so desperately craved, and smiled into Ash’s lips when she heard a soft moan escape from Ash. Their lips still together, Nat was out of control and completely at Ash’s mercy. She put her hands on Ash’s chest and pushed her slowly back to a waiting chair, then eased Ash down, finally releasing her from the kiss. She looked down at Ash, noting with satisfaction her ragged breaths, and quickly straddled her, feeling the heat radiating from her.

  “Don’t stop,” Ash whispered. “Kiss me again.”

  Without another word, their lips collided, days of yearning sending a surge of electricity through Nat’s body as she felt Ash’s tongue devour her, her heart hammering in her chest as her desire consumed her.

  Finally, reluctantly, they parted, their foreheads resting on one another’s, their chests rising and falling in a deep rhythm.

  “Does that answer your question?” Ash asked. She looked up at Nat. “I love you, Nat.” She held her gaze. “I thought when you left me all those years ago”—she hushed Nat as Nat protested—“that I’d had all the love wrung from my heart.” Ash reached up and brushed Nat’s hair from her flushed face. “But it’s full again. Full of love for you.”

  “I love you too.” Nat traced a finger across Ash’s face then leaned to place butterfly kisses over her lips, down her neck. “I’ll never stop loving you.”

  ❖

  Nat was in her arms. Ash opened an eye and looked down at her sleeping body, her
arm casually flung across Ash, their legs tangled together. Ash rubbed her foot against Nat’s, smiling when she grumbled and burrowed her head further into Ash’s neck.

  On the floor next to the bed were letters from the Royal Victoria, shredded and scattered about the room like confetti. Nat wanted her. Ash pulled her arms around her tighter and sighed out a deep, satisfied sigh. Nat meant everything she’d said to her in Cornwall, and Ash couldn’t be happier. All her insecurities had disappeared the second Nat had stood in front of her and ripped up her letters, thrown the keys to her apartment over her shoulder, and told Ash she loved her over and over until they fell into one another’s arms again. All Ash’s doubts and questions had scattered around the room like the pieces of Nat’s letters, to be replaced by security and a hope for the future when Nat had told her she couldn’t be without her.

  Ash moved her arm as she felt Nat stir against her.

  “What are you thinking?” Nat asked.

  “Just how amazing you are.” Ash bent her head and kissed her neck, trailing kisses along her jaw, knowing all the right spots to linger over.

  “Almost as amazing as you,” Nat offered.

  “Almost.” She traced a finger over Nat’s ribs, teasing her skin and smiling when she felt her squirm at the sensitive spots.

  “You always used to do that.” Nat murmured against Ash’s shoulder. “Hit that tickly bit.”

  “Is that right?” Ash’s finger drew a circle just above the spot, feeling the goosebumps rise on Nat’s skin.

  “And that.” Nat bit her lip.

  “You used to like it.” Ash stopped tickling and pulled Nat to her, their kisses now slower, her fingers back on Nat’s ribs, smoothing down her side, to her hip, and back again.