Cinnamon Twigs (41 page)

             
‘And I’ll always remember your boring ones, mate.’

             
‘I’ll never forget the water fights!’ Lisa chuckled.

             
‘I guess we live for moments.’ I gazed into my friends’ eyes. ‘And we’ve had plenty together!’

             
‘To us!’ Elliott raised his glass.

             
‘To us!’

             
‘Mates forever!’ Lisa accidentally spilled some wine on her blouse.

                                          *

The wind squalled, spattering rain against the window. I wiped my eyes on the sleeve of my shirt and stared at the blank white computer screen. The aqueous light from a lampshade washed over my face and cast spectral shadows across the room. The sound of rain hitting the debris that filled the gutters outside became an intermittent melody, filtering into my mind, dictating my thoughts. Each droplet a fresh word rising to the surface of my imagination.

             
So much pain. It hurt so bad. I’d put on a brave face, tried to focus all my attention on Emily. But it was killing me inside. I’d do anything for one more moment with Lauren. Just one more. Without her, I felt lost. Incomplete. This was my only release. A way of resurrecting ghosts. The friends and loved ones I’d lost. The voices of all the writers I’d read impacting on every word I wrote. Achieving immortality.

             
My hands lingered over the keyboard and then, with a sigh, I typed a sentence: I can’t remember a time when I didn’t expect to be famous.

             
                            *

That evening, I clutched my pillow, twisting, turning, steeped in thoughts. I wondered what Emily would grow up to be. A writer or an actor? Or would she take a different career path to me? I’d been told your kids never went in the direction you expected them to. That didn’t matter as long as she grew up happy. Images flickered in the darkness as I closed my eyes and finally drifted into sleep. I imagined myself standing on the beach in Barry, where I’d spent time fishing with Michael. I imagined the cold air, the tide of pebbles and the grey sky. Lauren emerged, through the sea of clouds, with Emily in her arms.

             
She’d always been watching over me, from timeless heaven. She’d guided me even when I was a boy, and I could feel her presence beside my bed that evening, sifting into my dreams. She raised her finger to her lips. Told me to hush. She’d forgiven me.

             
The wind stopped squalling. The rain pattered on the debris with less frequency, until everything became silent.

             
The grey would fade away, and Lauren would always smile down at me from the word scrawled sky. Our story hadn’t ended yet. It didn’t need an epilogue.