‘But what if your six-month break is over? Are you going back to your husband?’
‘I’ve no idea, but I wasn’t the one who made the six-month rule. I’m going to be here, right here, till the end. Making the most of every minute.’ She’d barely been able to get the words out, the lump of emotion in her throat feeling as though it might choke her.
Jude’s shoulders had started to shake and they’d both cried, then blamed the gin, then eventually gone to bed, where they’d made each other feel better. And the next day they hadn’t talked about it any more. They’d made plans for the next item on the bucket list. But although they rarely discussed his disease, Summer had her private moments of deep despair and she was sure Jude had them too.
When she became afraid of waking Jude with her tears, Summer slipped from the bed and ran out of the cottage, down to the sea. She was fully clothed but she kept running – into the ocean – the salt water mixing with her tears. She sobbed loudly, the sound drowned out by the hum of the sea.
‘It’s just not fair!’ she shouted out towards the lighthouse. And it wasn’t. But there was nothing either of them could do about it.
Her sadness and fury eventually subsided, and Summer returned to the cottage, where she showered and changed. She returned to her cooking. Half an hour later, Jude found her.
‘Smells amazing,’ he said, smiling, his hair all rumpled.
‘How are you feeling?’ Summer asked.
‘Better,’ he told her. ‘Much better.’
He went over to Summer and pulled her into a hug. She could hear his heart beating through his T-shirt, faster than before. He began singing the Coldplay song, then stopped.
‘You were sad,’ he mumbled into Summer’s ear.
‘Did I wake you?’ she replied, concerned not only about disturbing him but also about burdening him with her own feelings when he already had so much to deal with.
‘I was half-asleep but a little bit aware . . . You soaked my top! Oh Summer, I can’t bear it. I don’t ever want to leave you.’
Summer lost her battle to be brave – his words made her burst into tears again, noisy this time. She let them all out while Jude just hugged her tight.
Chapter Twenty-One
JUDE’S BUCKET LIST:
3. SEE MORE OF DAISY
‘I’m going away,’ Jude announced to Summer the following day.
Summer was busy hulling strawberries at the wooden table on the terrace. It was a blustery day so her hair was fluttering about, but it was warm enough. She looked up. ‘Not for long, I hope?’
‘Just a long weekend. When I was diagnosed, I promised Daisy I’d see more of her, and I’ve not been very available so far. I spoke to her last night when you were in the bath and promised I’d go over this weekend. She really wants to meet you, too, but I said I’d go on my own this time as she wants to have serious chats with me about various things.’ Jude pulled a face. ‘Daisy is an expert at yanking my head out of the sand. She’s going to say that I need to tell my parents what’s going on and, if I’m doing that, I need her by my side . . .’
‘I’ll miss you,’ Summer said, shielding her eyes against the sun as she looked up at him.
‘Me too,’ Jude said, feeling an ache already at the thought of leaving her, though he knew it was the right thing to do.
This time Daisy met him at Gatwick Airport.
‘You didn’t have to,’ Jude said as they hugged.
‘I know, but Sam’s at home and I wanted us to be able to have a chat just the two of us.’
‘What about?’ asked Jude, though he knew what she was going to say.
‘Jude, you’ve got to tell Mum and Dad. It’s just not right. Mum’s in a fluster because you haven’t been in touch for ages – she thinks she’s upset you. And she keeps asking after you and I have to keep fibbing and telling her you’re just fine when you’re bloody well dying!’
Daisy looked just like she had as a child when she’d felt wronged: eyes bloodshot with imminent tears, her porcelain skin temporarily red, clashing with her hair.
‘Dais! I’m sorry . . . Come here!’ Jude hugged her again. ‘I didn’t think how it must be for you. I’m sorry . . . You’re right. I’ve just been putting it off. I can’t bear to do it to them. And, I admit, I’m struggling so much to process it all myself, I’m not sure I can handle having to deal with their feelings as well.’
Daisy was mollified. ‘I know, I understand, but we’ll do it together, Jude. We’ll FaceTime them after lunch, okay? It’ll be horrible, but then it’ll be done.’
‘It won’t be done though, really, will it? It’ll be the beginning for them.’ Jude sighed. ‘Can we at least have a drink first?’ he asked.
‘Just one!’ Daisy bossed. ‘We need to have our wits about us!’
That afternoon, Sam made herself scarce and Jude and Daisy set themselves up with Daisy’s iPad.
‘G’day!’ beamed their father, showing off a terrible double chin, thanks to the unflattering angle at which he’d placed his own tablet.
‘Dad, try putting the iPad up a bit, so we’re not looking up your nostrils,’ said Daisy, and there followed a lot of faffing about while he tried to reposition it.
‘I’ll do it, dear!’ they heard Beryl say next and eventually they had a view of both of their double chins. They gave up.
‘Jude! Where have you been? You’re so naughty. We haven’t heard from you in months!’
‘I know. I’m sorry, Mum.’
‘Well, what have you been up to?’ she asked.
‘I’ve met someone,’ said Jude, thinking this would be a nice decoy from the purpose of the call.
‘I knew it! Didn’t I say that?’ Beryl asked, turning her double chin towards her husband’s. ‘Didn’t I say it would be a woman! Oh, I’m so pleased for you, Jude. Tell us all about her.’
‘Okay . . . Well . . .’ Jude began, relieved not to have to go into the depressing subject of his tumour, but Daisy interrupted.
‘Actually, Mum, Jude has some difficult news for you both.’ She prodded Jude and he sighed, resigned.
‘Yes, um . . . Look, I’m really sorry about this, but I’ve . . . er, it turns out I’ve got a . . . a brain tumour,’ Jude said, closing his eyes as he rubbed his eyebrows. ‘It’s a bad one. They can’t operate to get rid of it . . . and the long and the short of it is, I’m . . . I’m going to die,’ Jude mumbled, opening his eyes again. He tried to swallow the tears he could feel building and felt relieved at the terrible angle of the iPad, which at least prevented him from having a clear view of his parents’ faces.
There was silence. Beryl and David looked at each other. Eventually, his father spoke. ‘Jude, we’re all going to die. The question is, when?’
‘Less than a year.’
A sob shot out of his mother’s mouth. ‘No, no, no, no, no!’ she wailed. ‘No, not my baby. Not my baby boy!’
Daisy put her hands over her eyes. Jude felt like doing the same. It was too raw and painful to watch their mother’s heart break, just like that – in the delivery of one garbled confession over FaceTime.
‘I think we’d better call you back,’ his father said, gulping. ‘Don’t go far. I’ll just get your mother some tissues and a cup of tea.’ Like everything would be solved with a blow of the nose and a hot drink. But it was clearly all the poor man could think to do.
‘You call us back,’ Daisy said. ‘We’ll be right here.’
They rang ten minutes later and the entire afternoon was spent FaceTiming, with intermittent comfort breaks. Daisy agreed to more alcohol now the dreadful news had been imparted and they all analysed the symptoms, the diagnosis, the potential for a misdiagnosis and the practicalities.
‘We’ll fly over, won’t we, David?’ Beryl said, looking towards her husband. ‘We’ll come tomorrow if need be.’
‘There’s no mad panic,’ Jude told them. ‘Dad, get everything sorted out with work and see what you can find on the flight front. I’m not goin
g to keel over tomorrow. You’ll need a bit of time to get everything sorted, especially if you’re going to come over for a little while.’
‘Yes,’ said Beryl, and he could imagine her mind busily thinking about everything she’d need to organise. Arrange the cattery for Bumble and Bee, ask Mary to water the plants, cancel the newspaper delivery, rearrange various socials . . . ‘Maybe if we tried to be with you in a couple of weeks’ time? Would that be okay?’ she asked, her voice still wobbly.
‘Of course, Mum!’
By the time he went to bed that night, Jude felt drained, but he did what he’d wanted to do all day. He called up Summer.
‘Jude! How’s it all going?’ she asked. ‘It doesn’t feel right here without you.’
‘I miss you too – and Mandla. I’ve never known a place to feel so quickly like home.’
‘Did you tell your parents?’
Jude sighed. ‘Yes . . . I’m glad I’ve done it, but Summer, it was awful. To break their hearts like that. I feel so guilty.’
‘It’s hardly your fault,’ Summer said comfortingly, ‘but I can understand those feelings. They’ll be in shock right now, but it’s much better that they know. Are they going to travel over?’
‘Yes, they’re going to come to Jersey. I’m absolutely knackered now so I’ll tell you all the details once I’m home. I just wanted to hear your voice before I go to sleep.’
‘I’m glad you called,’ Summer replied. ‘You should sleep well tonight,’ she said. ‘You’ll feel lighter now you’ve told your parents.’
Jude realised, as he drifted off to sleep, that Summer was right – telling his parents had been preying more heavily on his mind than he’d realised. It hadn’t been any less painful than expected, but the worst was over. And soon, very soon, they’d be with him, giving him the steady comfort he’d known all his life. They’d given him that unconditional, all-encompassing comfort from the moment he was born and now, sadly, they’d be there to offer it when he died.
Chapter Twenty-Two
JERSEY
SUMMER
It was strange, because Summer had been more than happy in her own company when she’d first arrived in Jersey. She’d been cock-a-hoop to enjoy sleeping, eating and reading alone in Sylvie’s beautiful cottage.
But it wasn’t the same. By Sunday she was well and truly moping for her man and the thought squeezed her stomach painfully as she realised she’d better get used to it. Horribly soon she would be alone and with no prospect of a happy reunion. She shook her head, trying to dispel such maudlin thoughts. And anyway, Jude would be home the following day. She just needed to focus on that.
Feeling a little lonely, that evening she decided to call Tilly. They’d barely spoken since she’d first arrived and she felt guilty. But there was no answer. She looked at her phone. She tried Levi and Luke next. Levi was out but Luke was interested in everything she’d been up to.
‘I’ve met someone,’ she told him honestly.
‘I thought you would,’ he replied.
‘You didn’t!’
‘Look, Mum, it’s clear things haven’t been right between you and Dad for a while and you’re still super-pretty and young. I thought – out of the two of you – it would be you who’d end up meeting someone else while you were on this break.’
‘Actually, your dad’s met someone too, apparently.’
‘Really?’ Luke seemed surprised. ‘Who?’
‘Barbara from the village!’ Summer said, unable to contain her giggles.
‘You’re joking!’ Luke laughed. ‘Gah, I hope he doesn’t end up marrying her. Really don’t fancy Barbara as my wicked stepmother.’
‘Oh, I don’t suppose he’ll marry her. Dad and I haven’t had this conversation ourselves yet. He doesn’t know about my man, in case you speak to him. I’m not even going to tell Tilly – I don’t want things to be awkward for her when she sees Dad in the village . . .’
‘Don’t worry – I won’t say a word. So is it serious? With this guy?’
‘Very much so in terms of feelings but there’s a complication. He has less than a year to live. He has a brain tumour.’
‘Shit!’ Luke replied, clearly shocked. ‘Mum, you sure know how to pick ’em!’
Despite everything, Summer smiled. ‘Will you tell Levi? He might be a bit worried about it all – you know what he’s like. Tell him to give me a call.’
‘I will. Listen, Mum, I’m sorry this new man of yours hasn’t got long left, but you’ll make the most of it, won’t you? Enjoy your time with him?’
Summer smiled again. ‘I will, my darling. Thank you for being so understanding. Speak again soon.’
Summer hung up, feeling supremely grateful at having such a mature and empathetic son. Then she looked at the phone again. I wonder . . . It was always a gamble calling her parents, as they spent a lot of time in areas where there was no mobile reception, but it was worth a try. The phone rang. It sounded like a European dialling tone.
‘Oui, allo! ’ came the voice at the other end.
‘Vita, it’s me, Summer!’
‘No way! It isn’t you, is it? You sound so close by!’
‘Well, where are you?’
‘Brittany, a tiny village near a place called St Malo. I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch for such an age, but my phone ran out of battery. I lost my charger. Frank said he had it somewhere but he didn’t so then I had to buy a new one. There are never any payphones anywhere nowadays . . . Anyway, enough excuses. You know I think about you every day. You feel it, don’t you?’ she asked, sounding suddenly worried.
‘Of course, Vita. Don’t worry – I feel it. But listen, we’re nearer to each other than you think. I’m at Sylvie’s in Jersey!’
‘You’re not! How hilarious! We can probably see each other. Look – I’m waving! Can you see me?’
Vita was so daft sometimes, despite her intellect, it was hard to know if she was being serious. Summer laughed. ‘How’s Frank?’ she asked.
‘Total opiate addict now,’ Vita whispered. ‘But he’s in denial, which is why I’m whispering, because he’s only standing a foot away from me.’
Summer heard her father protest. ‘I am not an addict. Never have been, never will be!’ He came on the line. ‘Summer, my gorgeous girl, you know she’s telling lies, right? I am on a bit of medication for my dodgy knee, but that’s all . . .’
‘Sure, Frank. How is the knee?’
‘Better when I take the drugs,’ he laughed, and Summer couldn’t help smiling. She’d long ago come to terms with her father’s penchant for drugs, though it had been frustrating at times when she’d been growing up. She knew her relationship with her father had played some part in the attraction she’d felt towards Seth, who’d offered a sense of stability that she’d never known before. She hadn’t realised back then the trade-off she’d end up having to make for such security.
‘Hand me back to Vita!’ she ordered jokingly. Her mother came back on the line. ‘Listen, seeing as you’re so near, why don’t you come and stay? I’ve got this man,’ she said, knowing her parents would take this news in their stride, ‘but there’s another bedroom you and Frank could use.’
‘A man? What, Seth or a different one?’
‘A different one. I’ll explain it all when you’re here. Will you come?’
‘Love to!’ agreed Vita. ‘We’re doing this meditation retreat for the next couple of weeks but we could pop over after that? Catch the boat type thing?’
‘The ferry . . . Perfect! Just let me know when you’re on your way.’
‘Will do, darling! See you soon! Love you heaps! Ciao, ciao!’
‘Bye, Vita!’
Summer put the phone down and smiled. Then picked it up again when she heard it bleep.
Meet me at the lighthouse? the text said. It was from Jude. He must have changed his flight and returned a day early! She felt giddy with excitement.
Too right! she replied, and she found her flip-flops and hur
ried along the road towards Corbière. It was a mild evening and there was no traffic, so as she scurried along all she could hear was birdsong. She arrived at the car park and spotted Jude’s car, but he wasn’t in it. She knew where he’d be and fortunately the tide was far out this time. She made her way down past the bunkers and towards the pathway that led to the lighthouse. There was no one else there, just a solitary figure sitting on a bench watching the sun setting. By the time she reached him, the sun was about to dip out of sight.
‘You just made it!’ smiled Jude as he pulled Summer towards him and kissed her. ‘Look, it’s about to vanish! I was just wondering what the lighthouse is like in winter.’
Summer laughed. ‘Pretty much the same, I’d have thought! Why in winter?’
‘My favourite season.’
‘That figures,’ Summer said, smiling. ‘I’d have guessed as much. I’m definitely a summer person.’
‘The most perfectly named person. And, look, just like that it’s gone. The sun.’
Jude turned to Summer and kissed her properly.
‘I missed you!’ said Summer at last. ‘I missed you too much.’
‘Me too, though the trip was worthwhile. I’ll tell you all about it, but shall we go for a walk along the beach now? I need to stretch my legs after the travelling.’
‘Sure,’ Summer agreed, and they walked back towards Mandla and straight down to the beach. Here, the sky was reflected in the shoreline and the sand gleamed an iridescent pink. It was almost magical in its beauty.
‘So what’s happening about your parents?’ she asked.
‘They’re coming over in a couple of weeks’ time. I’ve suggested they rent one of those new apartments along the road.’
‘It’ll be wonderful to meet them. And funnily enough I spoke to my parents earlier and they’re going to visit in a couple of weeks too. I offered for them to stay with us – is that okay?’
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