The Last Day of Winter

by Shari Low

  His declaration of love for someone else temporarily derailed her, but she pulled her thoughts back on track. ‘I’m sure she does know it, deep down. But, you know, people do strange shit sometimes. They can be in love and not realise it. Or love someone so much it makes them do crazy things. Or they can take people for granted and not see what’s right in front of them.’ Every word was said in general terms, but the last sentence was loaded with meaning.

  She waited, praying that he would get it, that it would strike some invisible chord and that he’d see what was right in front of him at this very minute.

  Apparently not. He brushed right over it, with, ‘I don’t know what to do. She says she still loves me and wants to stay together, but…’

  There was a ‘but’. Stacey’s heart soared.

  ‘But if she doesn’t trust me enough to marry me, what does that leave us with?’

  He was looking at her with such heartbreaking earnestness that all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him. ‘I’m here,’ she wanted to say, but he continued before she found the courage to speak.

  ‘You know, after I left LA, and told you how I felt about you back then…’

  Yes! He was bringing it up, but… shit, he was using the past tense.

  ‘I was devastated. Gutted.’

  Panic stunned her into silence. Her mouth wouldn’t work, so she was completely incapable of joining the conversation.

  ‘I thought I’d blown my chance of ever being happy. Then I met Lila and I can see now that I used her to take my mind off you. But Caro… I knew from the very first night that it was real. It was everything. What should I do, Stace?’ he blurted.

  Seriously? He was asking her to give him advice about his relationship, the one that she so desperately wanted to end, so that the two of them could be together? Cammy and Stacey. This was so, so messed up. And right here, right now, she had a choice. Fuel the fire, or be a friend. What she wanted to do versus what she should do.

  ‘It’s hard for me to answer that,’ she said, going for honesty.

  ‘Why?’ He looked up at her now, genuinely curious. ‘You’ve never been slow to give me advice before.’

  ‘That was different, though,’ she stuttered.

  Oh God. Stop pushing. Just please stop, because if you don’t, then I’ll blurt out everything.

  ‘How is it different?’

  Shit! Don’t say it. Do. Not. Say. It.

  ‘Because back then, when I let you go, I didn’t feel the way I do now.’

  Twenty-Three

  Website – www.itshouldhavebeenme.com

  Members Discussion Forum

  Responses to post by member, screen name NotOverYet:

  Comments:

  NotOverYet: @realitycheck Did you miss the bit where I said I couldn’t care less about the haters? Blocked. For the others on here, it’s two hours until the ceremony. Crunch time. I think I know what I’m going to say. Knowledge is power, isn’t it? He just needs to know how I feel about him and after that? Who knows? But it’s worth the risk. Like I said, I’ve got nothing to lose.

  BethanySunshine: @NotOverYet You’re so right! Every moment of every day I wish I’d done what you’re going to do. I understand your heart and I support you. You must do this for all of us who didn’t get their happy ending. #lionelrichie #endlesslove #dontwannaloseyou

  JessieInAJam: @NotOverYet What are you trying to achieve? Do you honestly think he’ll choose you? It’s crazy. Please don’t do it.

  RealityCheck: What @JessieInAJam says. And, @BethanySunshine, no wonder he fucked off if you kept talking in song lyrics. #patsycline #crazy

  6 p.m. – 8 p.m.

  Twenty-Four

  Caro

  Caro’s eyes opened as she sensed a movement. She had no idea how long she’d been sitting there. The night was pitch-black, only the lights in the tree illuminating the area around her, the faint sound of a choir singing still playing in the background.

  As her eyes adjusted, she saw a man coming towards where she sat in the pagoda. For a moment she thought it might be Cammy, that he might guess she was here. They’d once spent a whole day moving round each side of the pagoda to follow the sun. It was one of their favourite places.

  But this wasn’t Cammy. It was someone else, a stranger. A tall man, grey-haired, a brown leather bag over his shoulder and a face that was furrowed with worries.

  It was probably time to go now. Val would be worried. Josie would be beside herself. The rain had stopped but the cold was beginning to permeate her duffle coat and the soles of her biker boots, despite the two pairs of socks underneath.

  As her eyes locked on the new arrival’s face, Caro heard a church bell somewhere nearby strike six o’clock.

  Caro’s first thought was curiosity as to why someone else was out here in this weather. Her second was that he could be some random serial killer. Her third was that this was the only path to the side gate – most people would use the other path, the one that led to the main gates – so she reckoned he’d just pass her by.

  He almost did. He’d gone a couple of metres past her when he stopped, turned around.

  Fuck. Serial killer.

  ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to scare you, but… red duffle coat.’

  A serial killer with a thing for red duffle coats. What were the chances?

  ‘Can I help you with something?’ she asked, praying that this wouldn’t be the opening scene in a Crimewatch reconstruction, while squinting at him, searching for any features that she recognised. She knew that most of the people in the gardens at this time would be here to work on the wedding. Was he perhaps one of the caterers? Or maybe a friend of Cammy’s that she hadn’t met yet? But it looked like he was leaving, so that didn’t make sense. Probably just some local serial killer out for a walk.

  Caro could see him taking a deep breath. Oh God, if there was a time to run, it was now. She reckoned she had a good twenty years on him, even if the cold meant she couldn’t feel her feet.

  ‘I don’t want to freak you out altogether,’ he said, ‘but are you Caro?’

  That shocked her. Serial killers didn’t normally enquire as to the name of the victim. Maybe he was some kind of stalker instead. Frying pan. Fire.

  ‘Yes, but how did you know that?’

  ‘Your coat. I’ve just been speaking to a woman called Josie and she was looking for you. She said that’s what you were wearing.’

  Caro now had absolutely no idea what was going on.

  ‘Josie is in there?’ she gestured to the building in the distance. ‘But I went in to find her and they said—’

  ‘She was through at the very back. No one knew she was there so that’s why they said she’d gone.’

  Her cold bones ached as she jumped up. ‘Aw, bollocks. I’ll go catch her now. Thank you!’

  ‘She’s already left,’ he blurted. ‘She headed out the main gate when I came this way.’

  Caro felt every bit of what energy she had left deflate from her body and she slumped back down on the seat. ‘Okay, thanks. I’ve been trying to call her but it keeps going to voicemail. Bugger, I’m having the worst day.’

  ‘That seems to be catching today,’ he said, with a wry smile. ‘I’m Seb.’

  Caro lost all thoughts of a starring role on Crimewatch. This guy seemed nice.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Seb. Are you a friend of Josie’s?’

  ‘No. Well, not really. Kind of. It’s a bit complicated.’

  Caro had no idea what it was that suddenly made her want to hear his version of ‘complicated’. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d been living in her own head all day. Or maybe she just needed a distraction from thinking the same problem through again and again, never reaching any kind of solution. Or it could be his kind face. He looked like the kind of guy who wouldn’t judge. All she knew was that, right now, she was intrigued and wanted to hear what ‘kind of’ meant.

  ‘Go on then – tell me what’s complicated,’ she said, before addi
ng. ‘It’ll take my mind off my disaster of a day. Another complicated story,’ she finished, sadness in every word.

  ‘Well, for what it’s worth, you’ve no idea how happy I am to meet you.’

  ‘Really? Did Josie offer you a finder’s fee for tracking me down? Only I wouldn’t put that past her.’

  He laughed, shaking his head as he sat down, an expression on his face that she couldn’t read.

  ‘I… I know your Aunt Pearl. We’re old friends.’

  ‘Oh God, Aunt Pearl. She’s going to lose her mind today.’ She realised that wouldn’t make any sense to this guy, so she went on, ‘Sorry. It’s just that Aunt Pearl has come here for my wedding and I’ve called it off. I think my fiancé is probably in that hotel across the road breaking the news to her right now. That’s why Josie is looking for me too.’

  He exhaled. ‘I need to come clean – she’d already told me that. I’m really sorry. Am I allowed to ask why you’ve called it off?’

  Caro gazed at him again, eyes narrowing. ‘You first. Didn’t you say you had a story to tell?’

  His smile was warm as he answered. ‘Yep, but I think yours is a bit more urgent. Aunt Pearl’s state of mind and Josie’s wedding planning both depend on it.’

  Caro felt a compelling urge to tell this man everything, to unburden herself of all the worries and stresses that were twisting her insides so that she could barely breathe.

  ‘Tell me first how you know Aunt Pearl.’

  ‘I worked at the same place as her many years ago. A golf club in Aberdeen. I… I hope this doesn’t upset you, but I knew your mum too.’

  It was so unexpected that what little breath she had in her lungs was now squeezed out of them.

  ‘You knew my mum?’ Her eyes filled again as she sought confirmation that she hadn’t dreamt what he’d just said.

  He nodded. ‘I did. I’m so sorry – Pearl told me she passed away.’

  That was all he said, but it was enough to break down every barrier and let the floodgates open.

  ‘Yes,’ Caro whispered. ‘And I can’t tell you how much I wish she was here now. I feel… lost without her.’

  ‘Is that why you’ve cancelled the wedding?’

  ‘No, it’s just… Well, kind of. How well did you know her?’

  ‘Pretty well back then, but it was a long time ago, before she married your dad. Won’t he be able to help you sort things out?’

  ‘He’s the last person I want anywhere near me today,’ she spat, surprising herself and this man sitting next to her with the viciousness of her words. She could see his confusion.

  ‘I don’t understand, you’re not close?’

  Caro shook her head. ‘How much has Aunt Pearl told you about my father?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘I’ve literally had two conversations with Pearl in the last thirty-odd years, and one of them was outside the toilets in the hotel this morning. I’m really sorry for bringing him up. I didn’t realise there was a problem, or I wouldn’t have said anything.’

  Caro felt terrible now. She’d made him visibly uncomfortable and he was probably trying to come up with an excuse to get away from her right now. Bugger. ‘No, please… I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t usually do drama or bad feeling, but it’s just… he’s a sore subject and the reason I can’t do this today. He’s the reason I’ve just completely messed up my life and destroyed the man that I love.’

  ‘How so?’ he asked gently.

  It was all Caro needed to go on. ‘You sure you want to hear this?’ She really hoped he said yes, because she needed to tell someone, to get it all off her chest.

  ‘Absolutely,’ he said, with palpable sincerity. She liked this man. It was a shame Pearl or her mum never mentioned him or kept in touch with him. He seemed like a good guy.

  ‘Okay, but it’s a mess. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  ‘I consider myself warned.’

  ‘My mum had early-onset dementia…’ That was the starting point. Before she could stop herself, she’d told him everything – her mum’s illness, her dad’s desertion, how she tracked him down, discovered his double life, met Cammy, and how this all led up to her meltdown this morning, how she just couldn’t bring herself to walk in her mum’s footsteps.

  When she’d finished, he spoke softly. ‘I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through all that. You must have been heartbroken.’

  ‘Not by him,’ Caro shot back. ‘I didn’t care that he’d lied to me, only that he’d lied to my mum. I hate him. But the problem is, I owe him too.’ There it was. She’d said it. Much as it ripped her heart to shreds, she’d admitted it.

  ‘I don’t follow…’

  ‘If my dad hadn’t been such a bastard to my mum and me, then I’d never have met Cammy. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like he’s done me a favour. And I hate that. I don’t want to benefit in any way from the man who treated my mother like that. If my dad hadn’t been living a lie, and if my mum hadn’t died, then we’d never have got together. Somehow, marrying him makes me feel like I’m betraying her all over again, getting joy out of the tragedy that was her whole life. Having this incredible ceremony and declaring my love for him while we drink and dance and give toasts to our happiness just feels wrong. Loving him is one thing, but celebrating our love without her here… I just can’t do it.’

  A gasping sob punctuated the last word, as she expressed the twisted feelings inside her. When it faded, a wave of embarrassment consumed her. Caro wasn’t one for big outbursts of emotion and – friend of Aunt Pearl or not – she couldn’t believe she’d just offloaded all this on a complete stranger. He was bound to be trying to figure out how he could escape from her as quickly as possible. The cold forgotten, her face burned with the mortification of it.

  It seemed like ages before he said anything, but just as she was about to fill the silence with nervous ramblings of apology, he spoke.

  ‘You could look at it that way,’ he said, and Caro felt instant relief that he wasn’t making up an imaginary dinner date and fleeing the scene. This was the most peaceful she’d felt all day, the only time the sirens in her head had stopped. She wasn’t ready to go back to the real world and hear them again. ‘Or you could look at it another way altogether.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Caro couldn’t explain why she felt comfortable with this man, but there was a connection there, an affinity, that was almost tangible. Perhaps because – her aunt and uncle aside – he was the first person she’d spoken to in a long time who actually knew her mum.

  ‘Perhaps the world works in a different way. Your mum died the night that you met Cammy – maybe she had something to do with the fact that your relationship developed into love. Perhaps your mum made it happen that way, because maybe even after they’re gone, the people who care about us can somehow guide us to the places we’re meant to be in life and help us find new love, new happiness.’

  ‘Do you honestly believe that?’ Caro asked, trying desperately to process this alternative perspective. So what was he saying? That somehow her mum had influenced her relationship with Cammy and helped her find the love of her life?

  He nodded slowly. ‘I think I’m beginning to.’

  This puzzled her. ‘Why?’

  He exhaled as his head fell into his hands. He stayed like that for several moments, as if he was deciding how to answer her question. When he lifted his head again, his face was a mask of… something. Worry? Pain?

  ‘Because my wife died not long ago. And if I hadn’t lost her, I wouldn’t be here right now with you.’

  Caro was baffled. ‘I don’t understand.’

  Why would it be important that he was here now, with her, and why would his wife influence that? This was all getting way too weird. What was he trying to say?

  ‘Sorry, I know that sounds crazy,’ he said, reading her thoughts. ‘But I think there are some things you should know…’

  Twenty-Five

  Seb

  He could
n’t tell her. Not here. Not now. And yet, he could never have anticipated having a moment like this with her, a time when it seemed like they were meant to meet and there was some higher reason for it.

  Until a few days ago, he hadn’t believed in destiny, or the afterlife, or anything like that. He was a man whose life was rooted in reality, and in things he could feel, see, hear and prove. Yet, as he was saying to Caro that perhaps there was some kind of inexplicable intervention in their lives, he knew he believed that now.

  He just wasn’t sure if Juliet had led him here to help him or to punish him. That would depend on the outcome. But for now, he knew that he had to help this woman in front of him, and if that meant baring his soul, then that’s what he would do. For the second time tonight, he decided to tell his story – but this time it was to the person whom it affected most.

  ‘My wife, Juliet, passed away in a car accident that was my fault. I killed her.’ Seb heard Caro gasp when he said this, but he didn’t look at her, knowing that if he did, he’d never get out everything else he wanted to say. ‘I replay the moment in my head a thousand times a day. Every time I ask myself why I didn’t wait until she’d put her seatbelt on, didn’t look the other way, didn’t see the van coming… So many questions. But, at the end of the day, the only answer to all those questions is that I killed my wife.’

  ‘You couldn’t have known…’ Caro said gently. She didn’t recoil as he’d feared, didn’t call him a murderer or flee his presence. He could hear that there was no judgement there and he was grateful for it, although he didn’t agree. He should have known. He should have been more careful. He should have taken care of his wife.

  He took a breath, then carried on. ‘My wife was Scottish, grew up just a mile away from here and although we lived abroad, we used to come to these gardens whenever we were back in Glasgow. We once made promises to each other that if either of us died, the other one would scatter their ashes in Scotland, somewhere that meant something to us.’