Let Me Be Your Hope (Music and Letters Series Book 2)

by Lynsey M. Stewart

  At first, my responses were desperate, needy and so utterly selfish. Another letter would arrive that was more hopeful than the last. Fuck, I needed that. I needed to know that she was still with me. She always had a naturally positive outlook, believing that we would find a way back to each other. I believed that too until it became clear that I could never go back. Now every single one of those letters backed it up and made it a terrifying reality.

  The letters felt like a lifetime ago. So much had changed in the last year that I no longer recognised myself. I lived my life like I was working my way through the fog of jet lag where you feel like you’re drifting but still aware of everything going on around you. Low voices, car doors slamming shut, engines starting, or maybe the low buzz of a television, numb to the real world and what’s going on inside it. That had been my survival mode since Abi. Everything had been hazy, like I’d been outside looking in, never fully part of it, but always there.

  I had to get out of the flat. Memories threatened to absorb me.

  Lately, if I wasn’t in the pub delaying the journey home, I was in the library reading the latest research papers. The library won tonight. A classic Dawson delaying tactic, but at least it didn’t make me feel so guilty. This time, I’d selected a paper on the impact of mindfulness in secondary schools and how setting up groups had reduced outbursts of anger and impacted on a lower exclusion rate. It kept my attention for most of the hour, but as night drew in, I found myself drifting into memories I normally kept hidden away in the back of the don’t go there part of my brain. I knew that once I opened it, there would be no going back.

  I’d started to think about my new job and tried to get my head focused for a change in pace—a fucking massive change in pace. I didn’t normally let myself get weighed down with doubts and anxiety, but I had them both firmly attached to my ankles ready to weigh me down in the water.

  Was it the job, or something else?

  I knew the answer. It was the thought of bumping into the bright green-eyed girl I’d left behind years ago. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel her hair falling through my fingers. If I bowed my head, I could still see her smile. If I leant back, I could still hear her whimpers and moans as I worked her body in the way only I knew how. Twenty-four months. One hundred and four weeks. Seven hundred and thirty days since I had last trailed my hands across her beautiful skin. How many others had touched her since then? Fuck, I couldn’t begin to go there. I’d let my mind wander once before and ended up in A&E requiring six stitches. A woman sitting opposite me in the library had the same length hair as Abi, but it wasn’t as shiny. I was sure that if I went over to catch her scent, not only would she punch me in the balls, but it wouldn’t smell the same. I needed vanilla and coconut like an addict needed their fix. I kept a bottle of her body wash in the shower just to give clarity to the memories. Why can’t I get that hair out of my mind? Why can’t I get her out of my mind? I couldn’t remember my life before her, or what life was like without her being part of it. Her presence was everywhere, like a shadow following behind me.

  Would her memory ever leave me? Would I ever want it to?

  Chapter Five

  Abi

  Now.

  The strip light above us was flickering.

  ‘Can we do something about this, Carlo?’ I asked, pointing to the ceiling with a sharp stab.

  ‘Don’t point your boobage at me, Abi,’ he replied in his thick Italian accent.

  ‘I didn’t realise I was pointing them at you. I have perky boobs. I can’t help it.’

  He laughed heavily, wafting his hands in front of him in exasperation. He returned a minute later, switched off the lights and started lighting candles.

  Carlo’s had become our go-to place for weekly catch-ups. Carlo knew our orders and secretly loved having a group of young women in his old fashioned Italian restaurant.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, who in the name of a scolding dragon’s nut sack is calling me now?’ Gem pulled her mobile out of her bag and shook her head. ‘Why does he need to suck out every enjoyable second of my life?’

  We took that to be Jay, her soon to be ex-husband, and watched as she left her seat to answer the call.

  ‘So, I took part in a random act of kindness today. There was a bloke in the post office who didn’t have enough cash for the postage, so I said I would pay as long as he wrote on the back that the receiver had to pass on the kindness to someone else,’ I said between mouthfuls of breadstick.

  ‘That’s brilliant,’ Kate smiled. ‘What was in the parcel? Did he say?’

  ‘Two paperbacks. I felt all whimsical, like I was passing on great words.’

  ‘It could have been anything,’ Kate laughed. ‘I’m imagining an inmate staying at Her Majesty’s pleasure replying with thanks for the stash of weed and the knife fashioned out of a toothbrush. Hiding them in those paperbacks was a stroke of genius.’ I threw the end of the breadstick at her and at the same time, Gem sat back down with a huff.

  ‘The fucker can’t even let me enjoy a night out. Apparently, Brandon is crying for me, but I know for a fact that’s a load of shit because there was no background noise.’ She took a gulp of her wine. ‘He can’t stand to see me going out, but it’s fine for him to fuck his little fancy woman. Thanks, Carlo,’ she replied without looking up as he set her spaghetti bolognaise down and tried to hide his smirk when he overheard the conversation. ‘You know, I feel like taking a leaf out of Elle’s book and joining a dating website just to piss him off. But you know what? I’m too knackered to think about dating. Yesterday, I wrapped my mobile in cling film when I was doing Theo’s sandwiches for school. It rang and I put the jam sandwich to my ear,’ she laughed. ‘And I’m seriously thinking about going back to work.’

  Gem left her job in sales when she had her first child. She separated from her husband after the birth of her second child when she caught him cheating with a waitress at his restaurant. Her luck in the romance department hadn’t improved since.

  ‘Just because you had a bad first experience, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try it again,’ Elle said.

  ‘Bad? It couldn’t have been any worse.’ She covered her face with her hands while Elle stroked her back, offering support but trying not to laugh.

  ‘I need to hear this.’ Kate, our colleague and now good friend, tried to be serious, but failed.

  ‘Oh God, OK, let’s all have a laugh at my expense,’ Gem said, rolling her eyes. ‘I arranged to meet someone at a bar in the city. I was only messing around on that dating website where Elle met Ben. I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone. I haven’t even been single a year! But, he was nice. And cute. He asked to meet quite late, which I didn’t think much of. Anyway, I was waiting for him where he’d asked to meet and I was bored, so I rang Abi.’ She looked over and I nodded my head, encouraging her to carry on. ‘I can’t,’ she said, pulling in her top lip. ‘You tell it better than me,’ I smiled as she held on to my arm.

  ‘Well, I’m babysitting and get a call. She’s all, “I’m not sure about this and he seems a bit immature,” and “I know it’s not about the looks, but he has a strange stare to his eyes in his photos.” So, I’m trying to talk her into staying and I finally manage it when I hear “fuck” and a few muffled words before the phone goes dead.’ I paused for added effect and Gem dropped her head to the table.

  ‘Say it,’ Kate said, cupping her hands around her mouth while Elle cringed in her seat.

  ‘The guy behind the bar kept looking at me. I thought he was just listening in and, quite frankly, I was tired and a bit pissed, so I carried on talking. Then, he unfastened his apron from around his waist, walked over and said, “I’m just getting off shift now. Thanks for waiting. I’m your immature date with the strange stare.” I was mortified.’

  ‘Oh no. Didn’t you recognise him from his pictures?’ Kate asked, her hands still cupped around her mouth.

  ‘No, it was dark and I was well on my way to being tipsy. Plus his pictures m
ust have been taken years ago. Very flattering in the eye bag department.’

  ‘Don’t let one bad experience put you off, Gem, really.’ Kate always tried to see the good in everything. I loved her naivety.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t,’ she replied. ‘Next one I got talking to lived in Scotland.’

  ‘Scotland? That’s totally pointless. How on earth could you meet each other for dates?’ Elle asked.

  ‘You need to set locations on your profile. Considering a match in Scotland is just barmy,’ Kate replied.

  ‘How romantic. Hold on while I set my mileage preference,’ she laughed.

  ‘What? It’s only like stating a preference for hair colour, height, or what your blood type is.’

  ‘Why would blood type be important?’ I asked, rolling my eyes so far to the side I imagined losing them under the table.

  ‘It might help you to find more of a match. What is your blood type?’ Kate asked, sticking her tongue out at me.

  ‘Fuck, I don’t care. Is that a type?’ She shook her head at my response. ‘Alcohol infused? Contains misery?’

  ‘Blimey, it must be negative,’ Kate deadpanned.

  ‘Someone’s full of it tonight. Just because you’ve got a boyfriend,’ Gem smiled. ‘Boom.’ She pretended to drop a hand grenade and we all turned to look at Kate as she dropped her eyes to her carbonara.

  ‘Whoa there,’ I gasped.

  ‘He’s not a boyfriend,’ Kate muttered. ‘He’s a man. I’ve met a man.’

  I put my fingers on either side of my temples and started circling them. ‘I need to get this in and filter it through because I’m getting a bad case of I can’t believe fucking believe it. How come I don’t know this?’

  ‘I didn’t either,’ Elle said, fiddling with the coffee bean on her Tiffany necklace.

  ‘Why are you keeping half of your tribe out of the loop?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m not, honestly. It’s early days.’

  Kate’s romantic history was a disaster zone. She seemed to have a knack for dating men who were about as interesting as a magazine subscription to The Most Barren Places to Fish. Her past boyfriends had something else in common. They all seemed to lack a virile sex drive.

  ‘What’s his name?’ I asked.

  ‘Steve. His name is Steve.’

  ‘When can I meet him?’

  ‘I’m not being funny, but you on your own is terrifying enough, but as a pack…’

  ‘How can you say that? Look how we’ve welcomed Ben into the group.’

  ‘We’ve only just met, and he’s very busy.’ She was making this up. I could tell by the stuttering and diverted gaze.

  ‘Busy doing what?’ I asked.

  ‘He’s very active in the community.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ I laughed. ‘Is he painting pensioners fences, or burgling their houses?’

  She huffed a slow breath out of her nostrils. ‘Neither. He has an allotment at the back of the embankment where he grows prize winning vegetables.’

  ‘Wow, Kate, he sounds hot. I’m wet just thinking about him.’

  ‘He’s nice. Sometimes being nice counts for a lot, you know.’

  I stole a piece of ham from her plate and watched as she took a huge intake of breath, releasing it with a shudder only I could feel sitting next to her. We all had our own stories and we all chose to tell each other what we were comfortable putting out there. Elle was a completely open book. Her life came spilling out because she needed the advice and support from her friends. Gem was similar but more negative than Elle, and her dry humour often soaked up the truth behind her words. Kate was a mystery to me. She always seemed so polished and together. I knew little about her life. She was adopted when she was a baby. She said she didn’t need to know what happened before; all she needed to know about was now and where she was heading.

  I couldn’t help but wonder where I was heading. There was a time I thought I knew.

  ‘How about you, Abi?’ Kate asked.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘I know relationships aren’t your thing, but I haven’t heard any stories of conquests lately.’

  ‘I’m giving up. Relationships never work for me, and now one-night stands don’t either.’ I was met with uneasy silence. They either didn’t believe me or didn’t know what to say.

  ‘So, have you heard from him at all?’ Gem asked seriously. ‘Does your decision to stop shagging to get him out of your system have anything to do with it?’

  ‘I haven’t heard from him in nearly two years, so the whole shagging to get him out of my system is getting a bit old and tired. Much like me,’ I said, my voice going higher as I stopped the threat of tears dead in their tracks.

  ‘I never got it,’ Gem said.

  ‘Got what?’

  ‘The agreement you made to only write. I saw you together. You were tripping over hearts and engaged in love of the highest order. I heard you in the throes of passion; it sounded epic.’

  ‘Jesus, Gem. When was that?’

  ‘Remember when Jay thought I was having an affair with Jamie?’ Hearing Jamie’s name still stung, but it wasn’t a full body pain now; it was less intense, like the sting of a paper cut.

  ‘How could I forget? I’ve never seen a man so crestfallen. Him, not Jamie.’

  ‘Crestfallen? You must have confused it with indigestion,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Anyway, Jamie was so laid back he was horizontal. He had a sense of humour you could poke yourself with. So sharp,’ she said, turning to Kate, who had never met Jamie but had heard plenty about him. ‘He used to join us after work in the café and he would give me marriage guidance. Obviously it was a lost cause, but fucking hell, he should write a book.’

  ‘I’ll let him know. Oh, wait. I can’t. He hasn’t replied to my letters. Bastard.’ No one laughed. Even my attempts to make light of the situation were falling down the rabbit hole.

  ‘So what happened?’ Kate asked.

  ‘Well, Jamie typed his number into my phone when I told him I needed access to his advice twenty-four seven. Jay found the number, assumed the worst, and rang him.’ She was laughing remembering Jamie telling him he charged ten pounds an hour for his services and that he thought Jay could get a lot from him, just like his wife, totally winding him up and making it sound much worse than it was. ‘After an argument that would go down in history as the beginning of the end, I went to Abi’s flat, let myself in with the emergency key, and heard them going at it in the bedroom. I had to leave.’

  ‘And now I’m thinking about sex with Jamie. Thanks. Great friends. Brilliant,’ I said as I held up my hand to Carlo and shook my empty wine glass.

  ‘Was Jamie the original cockateer?’ Kate asked.

  ‘The original and the best.’

  Chapter Six

  Abi

  Now.

  I was cutting it fine. My morning swim had got delayed when I ran into Mrs Waite in the changing rooms. I was still trying to secure my knotty hair into a bun when I crashed through the office doors, a handbag on one shoulder, a laptop case on the other, a canvas bag that said fuck the rules hanging off the crook of my arm, and an insulated cup holding my first coffee of the day. I couldn’t have looked more chaotic symbolic.

  ‘Busy morning?’ Elle was breezing through reception after collecting what looked like thirty case files on her way through to the office. She looked relatively put together even though I had left her locked in an embrace with Ben that looked like it would manoeuvre into sexy time on the living room floor.

  ‘Not as busy as you,’ I smiled as I followed her down the corridor. ‘Listen, sexy time is great. I’m all for it. God knows it took you long enough, and I was gearing up to dust the cobwebs from your vag, but if I walk in on you straddling Ben on the living room floor, I’m not going to be responsible for my—’

  Elle came to an almighty stop, causing me to slam my body into hers. She fell forwards and dropped her case files in a scattered heap across the floor.

  ‘Fuck! W
hat the bloody shitting hell was that?’

  ‘Oh my God, Abi. I…I’m…Abi…’ Elle’s face matched the panicked stuttering I was trying hard to make sense of.

  ‘Elle, it’s good to see you. How are you?’

  That voice. The voice I had been longing to hear. The voice that was somehow completely different but totally the same.

  Elle’s eyes watered. She had a look of despair that probably mimicked my own. I was about to crash, explode, or drop to the floor and collapse in a heap. My legs felt heavy and my heart raced a thousand beats. Everyone was looking at me, waiting for my next move.

  Jamie was there in front of me. Standing tall and fucking perfect.

  I had imagined the moment I’d see him again for two years, rehearsed what I would say to him, agonised over the words, wondered if I’d hurt him as much as he’d hurt me. I had fantasised about falling into his arms after apologies and promises, but not once had I imagined this scenario.

  ‘Abi. Elle. You’ve both made quite an entrance.’ Colin, our manager, was wiping his head with a handkerchief, a sure fire way of knowing he was flustered with all the swearing. ‘I’m just introducing Jamie to the team. You already know him.’ He sympathetically mouthed the word sorry. ‘He’ll be taking over from me in a couple of weeks. He’s going to be your new team manager.’

  Elle took a deep breath and pulled her bottom lip under her teeth. I watched the pink of her lip fade to a stark white the more she gripped it before stroking her hand down my shaky arm, linking it to steady me.

  ‘Hey, it’s nice to see you, Abi. Great actually. It’s all a bit unexpected but…’ Jamie consciously squirmed and rubbed all his nervous spots before holding out his hand. ‘I didn’t know you were in this team until this morning.’ I stared at his hand extended in front of me. The same hand I had held instinctively. The same hand that held mine in my sleep, stroked my hair, unclasped my bra, held my breasts. The same hand I had watched disappear into my underwear and had made me come countless times.

  I couldn’t touch him. How could I touch him? How could I speak? What the hell was I going to do?