Her Last Breath

by Tracy Buchanan

  ‘Expert, hey?’ she joked. ‘Does that include the time you nearly broke a leg trying to climb Lady Lillysands?’

  ‘I’ll have you know I have all the required rock climbing qualifications,’ he replied with a smile.

  Estelle smiled back then she peered up at the curved rock above. It felt vast and endless, the blue skies accentuating the whiteness of the cliff. ‘I thought I’d never see this up close again.’

  Aiden walked to the cliff face, placing his palm on it. ‘It’s amazing. Sometimes, it feels like it’s breathing.’ Estelle frowned and he laughed. ‘Seriously, come feel.’

  She walked over and he took her hand, pressing it against the cliff. She tried to focus on the feel of the rock, not Aiden’s skin against hers. She was surprised at how warm the cliff was, and Aiden was right, it really felt like it was moving beneath her palm.

  Estelle snatched her hand away. ‘You’re right; it’s strange.’

  Aiden pulled some keys from his pocket and walked to the hut.

  ‘So do you get much business then?’ she asked as she followed him.

  ‘Summer’s always good. Autumn not bad if the weather holds. It’s the online group bookings that do it. I tend to squirrel away the money I get over summer and eke it out the rest of the months.’

  Estelle peered out to sea, breathing in the salty air. ‘It’s so nice to be here. I love London but this place is, I admit, a nice contrast: the sea and salty air.’

  ‘You miss it?’ he asked. The look in his eyes suggested he was asking if she missed him.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. I do miss you, she wanted to add, but didn’t.

  To break the spell, she got her phone out and took a photo of the scenery. She uploaded it to Instagram as Aiden looked over her shoulder.

  Taking some time out for some reflection in the sun, she typed, aware Seb might see it. Keep an eye out for some healthy fish and chip alternatives when my book comes out. #PureEating

  ‘You like all this social media stuff, do you?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s part of what I do really. I’ve been a bit slack the past few days; my publisher will be on my back if I don’t do something.’

  ‘Don’t you find it all a bit fake?’

  She tried not to be insulted by that. It was what she’d built her business on. ‘Well this certainly isn’t fake, is it?’ Estelle said, gesturing to the cliff. ‘I think you’ve done great, you know, Aiden.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘My bank account disagrees.’

  ‘You don’t care about all that, do you? You never did when I knew you. You always said being a musician wouldn’t pay the bills, you were doing it for the love.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I was a naïve kid back then.’ He frowned, his mood darkening.

  ‘Do you still have your guitar?’

  He shrugged. ‘Somewhere.’

  ‘Please tell me you still play it?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘That’s a shame.’

  ‘You sound like my mum,’ he said. ‘She keeps going on at me to get my guitar back out.’

  ‘Then why don’t you?’

  His eyes flickered with sadness. ‘Too many memories.’

  ‘Alice used to love you playing. She’d be so sad if she knew you didn’t play anymore.’

  Aiden frowned as he opened the door to his hut. Estelle peered inside. It was messy but clean, a small fridge in the corner, a plastic chair inside. A pile of books and magazines sat on a wooden table, the two shelves above lined with various food items: sugary cereals and chocolate bars.

  Aiden pulled a fizzy drink from the fridge, flicking it open. Estelle gave him a disapproving look.

  ‘What?’ he said. ‘No calories, see?’ He pointed out the label.

  ‘It’s not about the calories. You wouldn’t believe what that does to your body.’

  ‘I think it’s a bit late for me to worry about that, considering the junk I’ve put inside me over the years.’ He looked her up and down. ‘Surely you allow yourself to indulge every now and again?’

  ‘I have cheat days.’

  ‘Cheat days?’ he said, a look of confusion on his face.

  ‘That’s what I call them in my book. Except by cheating, I mean not cooking from scratch. So I’ll have a pasta dish or something when I go out. Or I’ll eat a Nakd bar.’

  ‘Naked?’

  ‘It’s spelt N-A-K-D. Whole raw food in a packet.’

  ‘Sounds delicious,’ Aiden said sarcastically.

  Estelle laughed. ‘You haven’t even tried one.’

  ‘You can treat me to one later. How’d you get into all this healthy eating stuff anyway? Doesn’t tally with the Stel I knew.’

  Estelle kicked at the sand. ‘I guess it was a way of controlling something, you know? Of doing something right?’ She was surprised when that came out.

  Aiden looked surprised too. ‘You haven’t done things right?’

  ‘Not always – look at Poppy,’ she said softly, thinking that this was just one terrible mistake in a long line of mistakes.

  ‘I thought you said it was the right thing to give her up?’

  ‘It was but—’ She sighed. ‘That doesn’t stop me feeling guilty sometimes, wondering what if. Of course, I know it was the right thing. But doubts are bound to creep in.’

  Aiden frowned. ‘So advocating this healthy clean lifestyle is your way of making amends?’

  Estelle laughed nervously. ‘Wow, this is like a therapy session. I don’t know, I think I’m reading too much into it,’ she said, making her tone light. She forced a smile. ‘I guess I just like healthy nutritious food!’

  Aiden watched her, frown deepening. She looked away. Aiden sighed and pulled a deckchair out, setting it up on the sand. Then he opened the hatch of the hut and pulled a laptop from the bag he was holding, sweeping away some Lady Lillysands Festival leaflets from the hatch and setting it up there.

  ‘The festival’s in a couple of days, isn’t it?’ she asked.

  Aiden nodded. ‘Veronica ropes me into helping every year. This year, I’m in charge of setting up marquees and making sure they don’t blow away into the sea like they did two years ago.’

  Estelle smiled. ‘Sounds fun.’

  ‘Yeah, clearly the idiot who didn’t realise the marquees needed weighing down thought it was fun too.’ He leaned in close to her, lowering his voice. ‘Oh, that idiot was Darren Kemp by the way.’

  Estelle smiled to herself. He really didn’t like Darren.

  ‘Take a seat,’ he said, gesturing to the deckchair. ‘The group will be here in five minutes.’

  Estelle perched on the wooden end of the deckchair but it nearly tipped over, the contents of her bag spilling out.

  Aiden smiled as he leaned down to grab her bag. ‘Lean back into it!’

  She did as he asked, relaxing into it. It had been a long time since she’d sat in a deckchair and she felt out of control as her back bounced against the synthetic fabric, her legs lifting up.

  Aiden laughed. ‘You have changed.’

  ‘I haven’t been in a deckchair for ages, that’s all.’

  ‘That’s the beauty of them, they make you relaaaaaax … something you clearly need to do more of.’

  Estelle rolled her eyes. ‘I do relax! You’re making me out to be some uptight city girl.’

  ‘Aren’t you?’

  ‘Not at all! My boyfriend says I’m too relaxed sometimes …’ Her voice trailed off as she remembered what had happened. She’d still not heard from Seb but that didn’t surprise her, Seb was an expert at freezing people out. ‘Or perhaps I should say, ex-boyfriend,’ she added with a sigh.

  ‘Ex?’

  ‘We had a big fight. We argued about Poppy.’

  Aiden raised an eyebrow. ‘Why?’

  ‘He thought it would ruin things for me if the news got out that I was a teenage mum.’

  ‘He’s an idiot.’

  ‘Why do you think I left him?’ she said. She didn’t add she’d actu
ally left him to come to Lillysands to find Aiden.

  They held each other’s gaze then Aiden sighed. ‘Looks like neither of us can keep hold of a relationship.’

  ‘So you’re not in one right now?’

  He shook his head. ‘Na.’ Estelle found herself feeling relieved. So many years had passed. But somehow, as she sat there with him, she felt like that teenager in love again. The idea of him being in love with someone else would hurt, no matter how much she wouldn’t have wanted it to. ‘I flit around, fall in love a few times, you know what it’s like.’

  Estelle nodded. ‘I do. Before Seb, I did the same.’

  He picked up her book, which had fallen out from her bag. ‘So this is it, is it? Your book.’

  Estelle smiled as she looked at it. It was easy to forget about her book in the midst of all that had happened in the past two days. But there it was reminding her of how far she’d come since she’d been last sitting on this beach with Aiden.

  ‘Yep, that’s it,’ she said.

  ‘Wow, Stel. Just … wow,’ he said as he looked at it. ‘You did it, you really did it.’

  She felt herself blush. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Where can I buy a copy when it comes out?’

  ‘The usual places,’ she said. ‘You can have that one if you want though; I have plenty spare at home.’

  ‘You sure? You’ve left stickie notes in it,’ he said, fingering the places where she’d marked parts to use in her speech.

  ‘Sure I’m sure. The markers are for my book launch, but I noted the page numbers down on my phone. Just remember not to tell Autumn you have a copy before she does.’

  ‘I promise.’ He reached over and grabbed a pen. ‘Sign it?’

  She smiled. ‘My first signing.’

  She opened it and wrote inside: To Aiden, climbing to new heights. Luv Stel. X

  She passed it back to him and he read it, a bright smile appearing on his face. It lit up his green eyes, made Estelle’s tummy tilt. He peered up at her, holding her gaze.

  Then a group of school kids approached.

  ‘Here they are,’ Aiden said, walking out of his hut. ‘Fancy joining them on a climb?’

  ‘No, I’ll just watch,’ Estelle said, distracted.

  She watched Aiden walk over to the group, greeting them charismatically. The teenage girls in the group looked him over, giggling and whispering to each other. He led them to the hut, getting them all set up in their climbing gear and talking them through the rules. Then it was time to climb. As the group scaled the cliff with Aiden’s help, Estelle couldn’t help but think that things had worked out for him after all. Not much money, sure. But he was outdoors, among the elements, free.

  Estelle felt a sudden urge to go up there too, feel the wind against the back of her bare neck. Lately, she’d been feeling constrained. First the writing deadlines then the looming launch party. Sure, it was all wonderful. When she’d first received the email from a literary agent asking to meet for lunch with a view to discussing a book, she’d been so excited. And then a few months later, a five-way auction with the country’s leading publishing houses for the rights to a book based on an outline and a few photos. When her agent told her the sums they were offering, her mind had been blown. She’d been so proud when she’d seen the first instalment of her advance paid into her bank account. All the attention, the articles, the praise and admiring emails.

  But lately, it felt suffocating. Maybe it was imposter syndrome? Or maybe it was all too much? Would she have been happier if she’d decided to keep Poppy, not been so obsessed with avoiding a life like her birth parents and having a life like the Garlands had? Deep down, she knew part of the reason she gave Poppy up was she knew she could never hope to have a life like theirs with a baby at fifteen. But she could have given Poppy a good life, she was starting to see that now.

  How selfish she’d been.

  Well, she was going to make it right. She was going to find Poppy. She pulled herself up from the deckchair. ‘I’m heading off now!’ she shouted to Aiden.

  He was at the bottom of the cliff, chatting to the teacher. He quickly jogged over.

  ‘You’re going to the lunch?’ he asked. She nodded. ‘Be careful. People here don’t like outsiders sticking their noses in.’

  ‘But I’m not an outsider.’

  He looked into her eyes. ‘Aren’t you?’

  Estelle looked out of the car window as Max drove her and Autumn through Lillysands later past the pretty houses, the stretch of silver sea, the smart shop fronts. Sat in the car with them now, it felt like she was twelve again on her way to a visitation session with her parents. While they had lasted anyway. They’d stopped the spring after she’d moved in with the Garlands. Alice had been with her too, that last time. They’d grown really close. Estelle had never had siblings, and not mixed with children much at an early age. Her parents had been young themselves when they’d had her, conceived when her mum was fifteen, her dad nineteen, probably on a filthy mattress while they were both strung out somewhere. Estelle’s only other contact with children had been through the care system. But she hadn’t grown close to other kids, hadn’t allowed herself to. Truth was, she’d always yearned to have a little brother or sister, someone to share the burden of her parents with. And she was starting to find that with Alice. It felt good to have someone look up to her like Alice did. Autumn would call them ‘two red bees in a pod’ because of Estelle’s dark hair, Alice’s red, both heads bent over some book or another, their hair merging and mixing like the fur on a bee’s back.

  So when Alice had offered to join them on the car ride to the social services building where Estelle was to meet with her parents, Estelle had agreed. They’d sat in the back of the car, playing a game, taking Estelle’s mind off the fact her parents probably wouldn’t be there. Sometimes, they’d roll up, holding bags of dirty second-hand toys, eyes filled with tears. There would be promises to get her back, declarations of love. But soon they would both get tetchy, Estelle’s mum clawing at her skinny arms, her dad fidgeting.

  By the time Estelle was with the Garlands, she actually preferred it when they didn’t turn up. But that day in spring was different. If her parents didn’t turn up for that particular session, then that was it, no more. They’d missed too many sessions and her social worker felt it was only holding Estelle back. Estelle wasn’t sure how she felt about that. They were her parents, weren’t they? Her mother had pushed her out of her skinny pale body; her father had fed her and changed her nappies in that initial exhilarating promise-filled first few weeks of Estelle’s life – at least, according to her social worker. But it had all turned sour when Estelle did what babies do: cried in the night, demanded milk, soiled her nappies. The few photos taken of Estelle as a baby showed a sullen little thing with a filthy face and a mess of dark hair, surrounded by cheap toys, a dented wall or two, and tins of lager in the background. Her mother would invariably be smoking a cigarette in any photos, her father wearing a scowl. The nicest photo Estelle found was of her mother holding her on a small beach, skies bright and blue above her, her smiling eyes watching Estelle, a newborn in her arms. Estelle kept that photo for many years after. There weren’t so many photos after that first year of Estelle’s life, as if they got bored, the novelty worn off.

  It was the same with the visitation sessions, initial enthusiasm tapering off into regular no-shows. When they didn’t turn up on time for that session in spring, Estelle had been surprised at her disappointment. Autumn had hugged her after, whispering that she and Max would take the girls out for an amazing lunch to make up for it, go shopping for clothes, even go to the cinema. As Estelle had got back into the back of the car with Alice, she’d forced herself to feel hopeful, on the cusp of a true new start.

  But then bony fists had started banging on the car window and her mother’s pockmarked face was against the glass, right next to Estelle.

  ‘Stelly, babe,’ she called through the glass. ‘We’re here. We’re jus
t a bit late, that’s all!’ Behind her, her father lounged against another car, cigarette dangling from his mouth as he stared at her with empty eyes. Alice had leaned across to Estelle and squeezed her hand, giving her a look that told Estelle she wasn’t alone.

  Estelle had looked at her parents, then she’d looked at Autumn and Max who were regarding her with such love and sadness too.

  ‘Just drive,’ she’d said to Max, deeply embarrassed. ‘I don’t want to see them.’

  But as Max drove away, her mother had run to keep up. Max stopped the car and Estelle had wound down the window. ‘Please, Mum, just let me go. I’m happy now.’

  Her mother had frozen, first sadness on her face then anger. ‘Fine,’ she’d shouted back. ‘The only reason we didn’t get rid of you before you were born was ’cos we found out we could get ourselves a nice little flat with a baby. You were just a roof over our head for us, Estelle, that’s all.’ Then her parents had stormed off, jumping into their banged up old car. Estelle had watched them, her whole body trembling.

  Autumn had gripped the headrest, turning to stare into Estelle’s eyes. ‘Look at me. Look at me, Stel! She’s nothing, you hear me? Nothing. And you’re everything. Don’t you listen to her, don’t you listen to a word.’

  ‘Penny for your thoughts,’ Autumn said now as they drove to Darren’s event.

  Estelle peered at Autumn. ‘Oh, I was just thinking how much the seafront has changed,’ she lied.

  ‘Still lots more to change,’ Max said. ‘Peter and Darren are trying to get the marina developed; that’s what this event is for. Speaking of which, here it is.’

  Max drew up outside the restaurant, a two-storey glass-fronted modern building with an anchor etched into the glass. Two letters adorned its front: LS. The restaurant had been around when Estelle had lived there but it had been refurbished from the faded beachfront hotel it once was with its crumbling facade and murky windows. Instead, it was now smart and glossy.

  Estelle got out, smoothing down the silk of the white dress she’d changed into before walking towards the hotel. People nodded hellos at Autumn and Max, looking Estelle up and down and smiling faintly. Estelle thought about what Aiden had said about her being an outsider. She shouldn’t feel like one right then, wedged between her old foster parents, pillars of the community, but somehow she did.