Paper Chains (24 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Dear Simon,

So here it is. The letter that holds my secret. The one that needed to be shared but that I’m too afraid to speak out loud. It’s a confession really. You see, I’ve been lying to you, and I’ve been lying to each and every person that I meet on my travels. And worst of all, I lied to my grandmother, just before she died.

When we first met, I told you about my battle with cancer. I generally tell most people that I meet about it, because I like to feel empowered and I like to remind people that they can do anything, that they can do extraordinary things, if they put their mind to it. I like to inspire people with my success. And I like the way they look at me when I tell them that I fought cancer and I won. They give me a look of admiration, and it somehow makes me stronger, tougher, taller even! It gives me a buzz that courses through my veins.

But it’s all bullshit, because Simon . . . I didn’t win.

Cancer beat me. I had stage IV lymphoma. Most people respond well to treatment, but there are a few who just don’t. I guess I was one of the unlucky ones. When I found out that the chemo hadn’t worked, I couldn’t bear to tell my grandmother the bad news, and so I lied to her. Told her it was all a big success and that I was getting better and that everything was going to be okay. I knew that she wasn’t well and I had the idea that she was hanging on, waiting to see that I was going to be all right before she could let go. I was right, you know. She died just days later. But it was peaceful and I knew she was happy.

I hated lying to her though. I mean, I didn’t feel bad about the actual lie, because it was a good lie, right? But it was the deception in general that felt wrong, you know, sort of evil in a way.

As I began to meet people, I didn’t feel like I could admit the truth to anyone, because why would some stranger deserve to know the truth about me if my own grandmother, the woman who raised me, didn’t know? And what’s the point in telling people the truth anyway? Because then all I would get would be looks of sympathy instead of admiration. Do you know what those looks of sympathy do to you, Simon? They eat away at you. They make you feel weak and powerless. They make me feel sick, sicker than I already am.

I saw that look in the faces of the doctors when they told me that the chemo hadn’t worked. I wanted to scream at them, ‘Stop looking at me like that. Stop feeling sorry for me. Don’t you know you’re sucking the life out of me with your eyes?’

I changed my name, can you believe that? India’s not even my real name, it’s Lily. But I kept thinking it was Lily who got cancer. It was Lily who tried to fight but failed. It was Lily who lied to her grandmother. I didn’t want to be her any more. I wanted to be someone else, someone stronger, braver. I became India and I ran from my home town and I started travelling the world and meeting new people and I had this strange sort of confidence, where I could talk to anyone, say whatever was on my mind. Do whatever the fuck I wanted – because I wasn’t me, I was a new person; being India, it liberated me.

And then I met you.

Sorry, that sentence required its own space. Because you see, meeting you changed the game. I fell for you and I loved being with you and I loved fucking you and laughing with you and lacing my fingers through yours. But that wasn’t part of my plan. How could we be together when I know that there’s a finish line up ahead? I could see the way you were looking at me; your eyes had future etched in them. And a future with me just isn’t possible.

Hey, maybe we’ll meet in another life and this time I’ll be healthy and you’ll be a rock star and we’ll have fifteen plump little babies and we’ll settle down in Texas once you finish touring and you’ll take up knitting and you’ll knit fifteen scarves for our fifteen babies to keep them warm in winter and I’ll learn to do acrobatic horse-riding.

See you there.

India-Lily

xxx

P.S. You see what I did there with my name?

Simon finished reading out the letter and then folded up the piece of paper to return it to his pocket. He looked to see what everyone thought. They were all suitably shocked and upset – but it was Hannah’s reaction that took him by surprise. She looked as though she had been winded; her mouth was gaping as she tried to speak. Finally the words came out.

‘Simon,’ she said, leaning forward across the table, ‘I know where she is.’

Simon stared at her in confusion. ‘What do you mean? How could you possibly know that?’

‘Because I know her. I met her in London. She . . . she looked after me, helped me out while I was over there. But here’s the thing, she sent me a letter a week or two back, and I think I know exactly where she is now.’

Simon stared at Hannah. ‘You really know where she is?’ He pushed his untouched plate away as though ready to sprint from the table as soon as Hannah gave him a destination.

Liam looked over at her. ‘I didn’t know she’d told you where she was in her letter?’

‘She didn’t – not precisely, but I could tell. She said she wanted to spend some time by the river with the little girl who used to cry for her parents. She’s talking about what she did as a child, and she used to live by a river in her home in WA. Gingin Brook, that’s where she is.’

Now Simon really did stand from his chair. ‘She’s back in Australia again?’

‘Yes. I think so.’ Hannah looked hesitant now. ‘I mean, I’m pretty sure anyway.’

‘Goodness, Simon!’ exclaimed Carol. ‘Sit down. It’s not as though you’ll be able to get a flight this minute. Have dinner, and then when you get home you can book a flight for tomorrow.’

‘One step ahead of you, Mum,’ said Riley. She had pulled out her iPhone and was swiping her thumb across the screen and frowning. After a few seconds she turned to Simon. ‘Last flight tonight is at 8 pm; if you leave straight away you can make it. I’m booking it now.’

Carol looked flabbergasted. ‘Can you
do
that?’

‘Of course I can. Pass me your credit card, will you,’ Riley added, looking up long enough to smile sweetly at her mother.

Carol begrudgingly passed it across. ‘It’s for love, Mum,’ Riley reassured her as she tapped in the details.

‘Yes, well, I suppose so.’

As they waited for Riley to confirm the booking, Hannah looked across at Simon. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she said. ‘India actually told me that the guy she was writing to was called Simon, and that he was working in the Greek Islands. God, she even described you to me. But I never even thought of you. Had no idea you were over there. What a terrible step-sister.’

‘Don’t be stupid. How could you have known?’ said Amy crossly. ‘And even if you did, how many Simons do you think there are in Greece? There’s no way you would have thought of the connection.’

‘Doesn’t matter anyway,’ said Simon. ‘Main thing is you’re helping me out now, big time.’

Riley suddenly looked up from the phone and stared across the table at Hannah. ‘What is it?’ Simon asked impatiently.

‘I was just thinking,’ said Riley, her eyes boring into Hannah. ‘If you had never run away from your family, Simon would never have been able to find India again. It’s like your family had to suffer for their love to have a chance.’

‘Wow,’ said Amy. ‘Sorry, Hannah. This whole family can be a bit blunt sometimes. You’ll get used to it now that you’re going to be hanging around a lot more,’ and she looked pointedly at Carol.

‘Oh!’ exclaimed Riley. ‘Is Hannah going to be Mum’s new project? Wonderful. You know I was always so jealous of you growing up, Hannah. You had your own room in your own house, no annoying little sister and brother to share with. I was sort of in awe of you, wished I could get to know you better. It’ll be nice to start seeing you more often.’

‘Yes, yes, that’s all very nice,’ Simon interrupted. ‘But have you booked the flight, can I go?’

‘All right, here you go,’ Riley replied, glancing back down at her phone. Riley gave Simon the booking number and he jumped up from his chair. ‘Sorry to race off from dinner, guys, but if I lose her again, I don’t know what I’ll do.’ He looked over at Hannah. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you. And I’m sorry to be the one to give you the bad news about India’s cancer.’

Hannah nodded. ‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘Will you just hug her for me, and maybe tell her I’m here for her, if she needs anything?’

‘Will do,’ he said, pushing his chair into the table and grabbing his wallet.

‘I guess it was considerate of you to order the oysters,’ said Carol. ‘Makes it much easier to split your dinner between us. Let’s see, how many are there . . .’ and she began muttering to herself as she calculated how many oysters each of them should get. Simon turned and raced off through the restaurant and out the front to catch a taxi.

Simon willed the taxi driver to hurry up.

He willed the line at the check-in desk to move.

He tried his best not to become impatient as the woman at Virgin Air questioned him on why he was travelling with absolutely no luggage.

He did his best not to sprint down the corridor onto the plane.

And then he willed the pilot to take off, now, now, now.

India was willing Simon to come and find her.

She wished that she had told him the truth sooner.

She wished she had never left him.

She sat on the back veranda of her grandmother’s home – her home – and she wondered where he was right now.

She wondered if he was thinking of her, if he was missing her, if he had ever received her letter.

She watched the water rushing by, fuelled by a heavy downpour, and willed the racing currents to bring Simon to her, now, now, now.

When the plane landed in Perth, Simon was thankful he had no luggage to wait for. He bolted out of the airport and jumped into the first cab he spotted. It was a fair drive and the ride would be expensive – but it was worth it; he needed to get there now. God he hoped Gingin was a small town, because if he had to, he was going to knock on every door of every house in it.