Tessa in Love (17 page)

T
he next morning, Lara called from her mobile to ask if I wanted to go to Cadeby Wood with her and Jane and Chunk. My parents were having breakfast and I told them where I was going. My dad asked me if I was OK, and I nodded, and then as I was leaving the kitchen he said, ‘Come here, Tessie,’ and pulled me close and hugged me. He didn’t say anything else.

I met Jane and Lara at the end of my street and we walked quietly into the Wood together. It was a little before nine o’clock and it was going to be a beautiful day. There was a slight chill in the air and the sky was a very pale blue and completely clear. The wood was rustling with wildlife hurrying to hide from the daytime visitors, and there was a warm, leafy smell. It was everything I loved most about it, without the one person who had made it my favourite place on earth. Chunk found us sitting in a line on the trunk of a fallen tree, and sat down in silence with us.

‘Can you feel him?’ Jane said. ‘I feel like he’s here.’

I wished it could be true. I wished that he was there, in every tree that leaned, breathing, towards us, in the squirrels that circled their roots, in the rays of sunshine filtering through the heavy leaves that had already started turning golden brown. That he could see me here, loving him, waiting for him, and send his love back to me.

The others told stories about him. Lara talked about the first time he had brought her to the Wood, when she hadn’t known it existed, and that that was when she’d found out why he was called Wolfie. Jane remembered how the four of them once got a group detention, because Wolfie had accidentally broken a table trying to get Jane’s diary down from a high window ledge where a boy who was bullying Jane had thrown it, and they’d all agreed to take the blame together but not to grass on the bully. I was desperate to hear more about him – I wanted to know
everything.
But at the same time, even though these people were my friends, and they meant so much to me and wanted to talk about how much they loved Wolfie, I couldn’t stop myself being jealous of them for knowing him better than me. They had enjoyed so much time with him – and I’d had so little. I hated myself for feeling like that, but it pounded through my head every time they finished each other’s sentences and smiled at the memories. It didn’t seem fair, when I’d believed I would spend for ever getting to know everything about him, that I would only have a few months’ worth of memories to last me the rest of my life. Then Jane told a story about the first time he told them all that he was falling for me, and said she’d never known him like that, so shy and serious. It was as if she had read my mind and wanted to reassure me that I knew a Wolfie they hadn’t known, too. Then Chunk said some more about the way Wolfie talked about me in Peru, and I was embarrassed and moved by their kindness, and just incredibly grateful for their friendship.

On my first day back at school, I felt, or knew, that everyone was looking at me. I was terrified that at any moment anything might make me lose it, and the last thing I wanted to do was to cry in front of everyone and attract more attention. But when people were kind, and felt sorry for me, it was almost impossible not to cry, and I seemed to spend the whole day trying to draw my face back into itself and not let go. To keep the tears in my eyes, because, if one escaped, there would be nothing to stop me breaking down completely.

I slipped away at lunch-time to sit by the goat’s pen. Matty came along to ask if I wanted her to get me something from outside school, but she could sense I wanted to be alone.

‘Do you remember him?’ I asked the goat, when I was sure that no one was anywhere near. ‘He helped you once. He let you see a little more of the world. Just for a brief moment.’ I knew that if anyone saw me or heard me they’d think I might be losing my mind. I needed to speak out loud but not to be heard by anyone who could say something back to me, or tell me I’d be fine. I didn’t want to hear it, because I knew it was a lie.

The week went on and being at school did help, in a way. I was forced to think about coursework and timetables and where I was supposed to be, and to use my brain to worry about other things. I couldn’t just follow Matty around in a daze, because we had different classes. I’d been crying for so long that it almost seemed like a break: being made to focus on words, writing, spending time not thinking about myself. I hadn’t realised how much I’d needed the break until it came, but I also felt I didn’t deserve it – that it was wrong and bad to begin to move on, no matter how small the move. Whenever my concentration ebbed and my mind fell back on Wolfie, I felt as though my heart had been temporarily emptied and was flooding again, fast, with sadness, and that it beat more heavily and pulsed with waves of guilt, as if I was letting him go, as if a few of the million threads that held him to me were breaking. And it hurt. It hurt so much.

It was deeper, more searing, completely different from the pain I’d felt when he left me to go to Peru. All through the summer, there had been aching and longing and fear for him and me – but always hope. There were e-mails to read and the real sound of his voice when he called, not just a memory. There was more of him, or the promise of more in the future. I knew that I could count the moments until I felt happy again, no matter how brief the conversations and e-mails were – no matter how quickly sadness would follow, or the loneliness start to pull the ground from under my feet. Now, there was nothing to stop me falling, and no one to catch me.

M
atty said that I have nothing to worry about. ‘Yeah, not much,’ I said. I’d been crying again, and I had my hair in front of my red streaky face, and was resting my chin on my hands on the edge of the sofa.

She brushed my hair off my forehead and smiled.

‘You?’ she said. ‘I don’t need to worry about you. You’re Tess.’

‘Lucky me,’ I said.

‘Listen, you twit,’ Matty said. ‘Not once in your whole life have you settled for anything. Not once have you wasted your time with anyone who didn’t deserve you or anyone you didn’t think was the coolest person alive. You’ve always had that, but you used to worry that you’d never fall in love. And now you’ve fallen in love.’

‘Exactly. I had my chance. I didn’t settle. I waited for the right guy and the right guy is gone.’

‘Which
means,’
Matty said, ‘that in addition to having the kind of pride that means you don’t settle for losers and idiots and
Lees,
you know you have the ability to fall head over heels, check your e-mail three hundred times a day, burst out laughing when you’re walking down the street because you’re so happy you met him, in TRUE LOVE!’

‘There was only him,’ I said.

‘No,’ Matty said. ‘I’m not going to tell you you’ll meet another man like him, because I know that Wolfie was unique. But he is
not
the only man you’ll ever be in love with. Your heart has already proved to you that it works. The people you should worry about are the people who’ve never been in love. Like my mum – I think she always did what was sensible and never really lost herself. I never saw her kiss my dad, or light up when he walked in, the way I sometimes see your mum look at your dad, or the way I know I look at Jim. There are some people, I think, who just don’t
feel
that. You know, who just never fall that hard. You fall all the way, you’re one of the lucky ones.’ She leaned back and took a sip of her latte. ‘So no, I don’t worry about you. So you shouldn’t either.’

I don’t know if I can believe her. When they talk in songs and movies about broken hearts, I understand. That’s how it feels to me – that I’m broken, that I’ll never know how to be really, purely happy again, the way I was before. But if someone offered me the chance to turn back time and take away Wolfie from my life, so I didn’t have the pain I’ve been feeling since he died, I’d tell them where to stick it. I’d get angry. My months with Wolfie are the most important of my life, and I still have them, and I always will. The person I’m learning to be started life with him – he helped me to understand myself, to listen to my heart, to listen to other people more than worrying about what they think of me. He’s a part of me for ever.

It’s when I look at the pictures he took that I see how important that is, and can almost believe people when they tell me I was lucky to be there when he was there, for however long. The warmth and happiness in the eyes of the children he photographed tells some of the story of what an amazing person he was, how caring and sensitive and passionate. Seeing the effect he had on other people and knowing he chose me to love is the greatest joy in my life.

This morning, I got a letter from Wolfie’s mum.

Tessa,

Thank you so much for your letter and the pictures. They broke my heart and made me happy at the same time. I felt humbled by the overwhelming love and affection for him that I saw in Wolfie’s friends at the funeral. I regret not having spent more time with my beautiful son. I hope he knew how much I loved him.

I’ve enclosed a letter Wolfie sent me a little while ago. While I treasure everything he gave me, this one, I think, belongs to you.

With my very best wishes,

Chloe

Dear Chloe

I hope you’re all doing well up in Glasgow, and that the Scottish sun is starting to burn a hole through the rain clouds.

Tessa, the girl I mentioned in my last letter, is now my girlfriend. Can you believe it? She’s amazing. She’s beautiful and clever and funny and she doesn’t think I’m a jerk. But she’s also incredibly kind and sensitive, and has no idea how amazing she is. When I wake up in the morning and remember
that she’s my girl, I think I must he the luckiest guy in the world. Did I mention that she’s beautiful? We’ve been spending all our spare time together; we went to Bridlington last week and I took a photograph of her by the sea (it’s enclosed – isn’t she gorgeous? She hates being photographed). I wish you could meet her – you’d fall in love with her too. I know your schedule makes it hard for you to come down to England very often, but if you’re thinking about it in the near future, for whatever reason, do give us a shout and we’ll all have a cup of coffee or something. I’m just so proud of her and want to show her off to everyone.

Give my best to Angus and Sasha and Hannah and April.

I love you, Mum

David