The Last Letter from Juliet - Melanie Hudson Page 0,69

me safe from the stray bullets life could send ricocheting in any direction. Life in a trench is a stale, stagnant, half-life, however. And having dug-in so well in the first place, it now seemed nigh on impossible to clamber out, which is why I stayed there, in the gloop, because it’s easier, safer.

‘And that’s how other people start to see you,’ I explained, ‘as the widow. So you stay in that image, partly out of worry that if you’re seen to be happy …’

I paused, uneasy at suddenly feeling able to be so completely honest.

‘They might think you didn’t care,’ Juliet finished, understanding.

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘And I do see that no one would see it that way, at least, no one of importance, and all this self-imposed restriction is suffocating, and not at all what James would have wanted. Gerald has been worried, I know he has, and I do see that it’s time for the widow’s garb to be thrown on the fire, but it’s … it’s odd, reinventing a life. I wish I could be more like …’ I glanced around, thinking. ‘Marie! More like Marie.’

Juliet laughed. ‘You’d be arrested inside the week!’

I widened my eyes – ‘But it would be one hell of a week!’

Juliet’s eyes were so kind, so understanding. But how could I explain that part of the problem was that even before James died, I had dug another trench, not so deep this time, but a trench all the same – it was the trench of James’ life. I had buried myself in his career, his city, his friends, and all at the tender age of nineteen, and I’d done it willingly, too – I’d taken the easy route. And now, having had no adult life without him, if I climbed out of the trench, as I knew I must, where would I go?

Juliet read my mind. ‘It must be difficult, reinventing your life from scratch, but all you really need is for someone to pass down a ladder. Trust me, it’s much more simple than you think, once you set your mind to climb out.’

I smiled.

‘And when I get to the top, where would – will – I go?’

Juliet took a deep breath and gestured towards the wide expanse of sea.

‘Coddiwompling,’ she said with a wink. ‘That’s where.’

When no performances are scheduled, it’s possible to explore the terraces and the stage at the Minack, and so I wrapped Juliet in enough blankets to survive a polar expedition and wheeled her out to the upper viewing area. The winter sun shone its faint, watered-down glow onto Juliet’s silver hair. I knelt next to the wheelchair and we remained in silence, taking in the theatre and sea.

‘I always fancied myself performing here,’ Juliet said, her face so frail against the cold breeze, nodding down towards the stage, which was a significant way down a myriad of stone steps, below us. ‘Sam and I used to visit here during the quieter times, jump on the stage and give it a go. He sang a whole song for me once. Didn’t give a damn who was listening!’

‘Really?’ I asked, delighted. ‘What did he sing?’

‘We’ll Meet Again.’

She glanced up – coquettishly.

‘I don’t suppose … you could …?’

I quickly leant back as an automatic reaction.

‘Me? Down there? No way! People will think I’m nuts.’

Juliet shrugged. ‘I thought you wanted to be more like Marie. She would have loved it here. And those two over there,’ Juliet pointed to a happy couple who were exploring the terraces, ‘were just a second ago singing and having fun on the stage. You didn’t think badly of them.’

But that was exactly the point, two people had been prancing on the stage, together. When two people arse about it’s fun, when it’s just one, it’s not fun, it’s lonely.

‘And don’t forget to really belt it out so I can hear you up here.’

‘But I don’t know the words.’

‘Of course, you do, everyone knows that song.’

‘But …’

Juliet took my hand. ‘You were just saying it was time for a change, to be more optimistic. I’m handing you the ladder, Katherine. Don’t you think it’s time to put a foot on the first rung?’

‘Couldn’t you hand me the ladder another way? Like ask me to wrestle a tiger, or something? Something I little bit … easier.’

Juliet shook her head.

‘It’s time,’ she said.

I sighed, tottered down the steps to the stage and looked back up at Juliet sitting in her wheelchair, waving at me. My voice