‘I’m waiting for the people in fancy dress.’ Jess peers into the distance again. ‘I can’t believe the noise.’
‘That’s why I said earlier that you’d soon have enough of it.’ Harry grins and rattles the noisemakers near her ear. She ducks away, laughing.
Becky isn’t joking when she says Jess cries at the runners. When the charity runners start coming through with the names of the people they’re running for and their photos printed on the backs of their T-shirts, Jess basically starts sobbing and doesn’t stop. Becky teases her about it incessantly.
‘Shut up,’ Jess says, wiping her face with both hands. Any make-up she had on is long gone. She blows her nose on a spare bit of kitchen roll from Andrea’s picnic bag. ‘I can’t help it. It’s just so …’ and she points to a woman who’s half-walking, half-jogging with “This one’s for you, Dad” on the back of her T-shirt. And just like that, my heart cracks and I feel tears streaming down my face, too. I wipe them away, ineffectually. Jess hands me one of her tissues, silently, and bumps the side of my arm with hers.
‘I feel like I’ve run a marathon after all that,’ Becky says, hours later, as we fold up the last of the tables and high-five the other supporters. She blows us a kiss and heads off before we do, because she’s left her stuff at her friend’s place.
The tractors and clearing-up lorries have passed by now, following a handful of stragglers – some who were walking, some clearly baking hot in heavy fancy dress costumes. It’s a long way to go dressed as Big Bird on a sunny day. Still, Big Bird gave us a cheery wave.
‘You can do it,’ Jess shouted, clapping as the last few people made their way past. They had another five and a bit miles to go, and they looked completely wiped out. But they brightened when she cheered them. I picked up my noisemaker and gave them a rattle, and together we called out their names.
‘Come on, Brian, you can do it!’
‘Go on, Sarah!’
‘Jamie! Not long to go now.’
Without thinking, I put an arm around Jess’s shoulders as we cheered the couple who were shuffling along in a tandem bicycle costume and as they passed it turned into a funny, awkward sort of hug and I think Jess’s tears must be contagious because I saw they were running for our charity and I thought of Matt sitting at home watching the television and I had to wipe the tears away from my face again.
‘Gets to us all in the end,’ said Harry, clapping me on the back. He dropped an arm around my shoulder and squeezed me. ‘Get yourselves off for a drink.’
Jess went to collect her rucksack and Harry gave me a look. ‘Got a good one there, son.’
‘Oh she’s not my—’ I began, but he’d turned away before I could finish the sentence.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jess
3rd May
I look up at the sky, cerulean blue and cloudless, and feel the heat of the sun on my face. It could be the middle of August, instead of May. A little practical voice pops up in my head, and points out that I should probably be wearing sunscreen. I stop for a second and rummage in my bag – I’m sure there’s some in there somewhere.
‘It’s better in May, before the summer holiday tourists appear,’ Alex says. We’re in Regent’s Park near the zoo. We haven’t been out for a walk for a while, or really out together at all since the Marathon; I’ve been flat out with work, and Alex has started a placement in the geriatric ward. He’s been doing nights, which seems to be when they all die, grimly enough, so I’m cautious about asking how it’s going because every tale seems to start with ‘we lost another one last night …’ I don’t know how he does it and stays cheerful. It’s weird. I can’t imagine what would make anyone want to be a nurse, but I’m very glad that whatever it is makes people do it.
‘I’m so tired I could sleep for a week,’ says Alex.
‘We can lie on the grass for a bit. We don’t have to walk ten miles a day if you don’t want to.’
He stops and looks at the grass. Newly mown, it looks quite tempting.
‘Just for a bit?’
‘Just for a bit,’ I agree.
We lie down on the grass, side by side, and look up