He will picture their lovemaking: slow and intense, how blessed he had felt because he could see how much his wife loved him. That nagging in his stomach will be filled with despair at this tragedy; this accident that took away his wife from their children.
The tragic accident that caused the death of Jennifer Jones.
Chapter Eighty-Four
Ed
I’ve lost sight of Jen as I sprint as fast as I can around the bend of the path. Everything seems harder: it’s harder to breathe, it’s harder to run, harder to see. I’m repeating her name over and over and over as I picture her body hitting the waves, her body weightlessly sinking beneath the surface, dress floating around her, bubbles escaping her mouth.
But I did everything right, right? She was better, I did everything Wiki told me, everything Google told me, everything Dr Pepper told me. What if I didn’t fix her, what if . . . I can’t think of the what ifs. Why aren’t I fitter? Faster? I push myself; I run faster than I have in years, Jen’s name circling my thoughts of her, my beautiful wife.
Chapter Eighty-Five
Jennifer
‘Jesus, Jen!’ Kerry grabs hold of my shoulder and shakes me. ‘Come on, Jen, enough is enough.’ I look down to where parts of the cliff have begun to tumble into the sea. My feet are dangerously close to the edge.
I blink.
Like a sharp click of fingers in front of me, I picture my family. Ed as he opens his eyes first in the morning, the lazy half focus as he sees my face; Oscar’s face looming in front of me as he jumps on top of us, warm and smelling of sleep; Hailey pushing her glasses up her nose and smiling at me as I peer around the corner of her bedroom, telling her just one more page before she sleeps. The images come faster and faster: Oscar sneezing his cereal all over the kitchen table, Hailey bouncing on the trampoline, me and Ed sneaking Christmas presents down from the attic, stifling giggles in case we wake up the kids, the feel of Oscar’s hands around my neck as I carry him to bed, the excitement on Hailey’s face as she places her tooth beneath the pillow. Faster and faster the images come, Oscar peddling his tricycle – tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration – Hailey sliding down a slide – knickers showing as her dress billows around her, Ed fixing a flat tyre – oil smudged across his cheek, Hailey with flushed cheeks, 1st prize sticker on her chest at sports day, Ed shivering and putting his coat around my shoulders, the three of them holding hands while they jump over waves, Oscar chasing Hailey with a frog . . . More and more memories come, until my eyes flash open. My chest is rising and falling heavily, the smile on my face, the hunger to see them making my feet step backwards from the edge.
‘You have to let me go.’
I nod.
The love and joy I felt moments ago battles with the loss to come. A flicker of fear runs through me, fear of the visceral pain of grief and guilt that haunted me in the months after she died, that has been burning away inside me for over a year, but with a hiss, the flicker of fear is extinguished: wet fingers pinching a flame. My grief isn’t going to start again, this isn’t a new death . . . this is just my chance to say goodbye, to start living, for my life to begin again.
‘Goodbye, Jen.’ She kisses the inside of my palm, my hand dropping back towards my side as she takes another step back. ‘Tell squirt that adding a blob of PVA glue to his bubble mixture will make it magic, tell Hailey to add a quarter of a Bazooka bubble gum . . . that got me a twenty-five . . . but shush . . .’ She winks. ‘Don’t tell Mum.’ She steps back a little further. ‘And Jen? Be nice to Nessa’s new girlfriend . . . she’ll want your approval.’ My sister opens her arms and grins at me. ‘And . . . give Ed a kiss from me!’
She winks, and before I can stop her, before I can grab her hand, her body is flying backwards. Her eyes – bright and determined – stay focused on me. Her feet and arms are in front of her,