Will You Remember Me? (30 page)

Swinging her legs to climb from the bed, she was immediately anchored by a sharp pain in her lower back. ‘Jesus H. Christ!’

She sat back against the pillows, unscrewed the lid of her little pill bottle, counted the capsules into her palm and hurled them down her throat. ‘Do your worst, boys,’ she said, visualising the bastard pedalos. There wasn’t one part of her body that on one day or another didn’t cause her discomfort. It was exhausting.

There was a light rap on her door.

‘Come in!’ Poppy did her best to sound comfortable and calm. She didn’t want to worry anyone more than she already had.

Kate popped her head into the room. ‘Morning, Poppy. Did you sleep well?’

Poppy ran her hand over the pale lemon quilt and pushed her head into the heavily starched pillowcases with little sprigs of lavender embroidered on them. ‘Kate, in a room as beautiful as this, it would be very hard not to.’

‘I’m so glad you like it! I tried to make it lovely for you.’ Kate straightened the towel that hung on a hook on the back of the door.

Poppy cast her eye over the whitewashed dresser where a glass vase sat displaying a single white tropical bloom. ‘Well you succeeded.’

‘Do you feel up to breakfast? We are all on the terrace. Peg was up bright and early; she and Matilda are already quite inseparable!’

‘Give me a mo, I’ll be right out.’

Kate closed the door as Poppy sank back into the bed and took some deep breaths. Mr Ramasingh had said that it was good to get her breathing under control and that it might actually help her pain. At this stage, she was willing to try absolutely anything.

Some minutes later, she stepped out into the bright, beautiful morning to find Peg and Matilda sitting opposite each other, clapping hands in a rhythm. They were clapping their own and then each other’s hands alternately, which Peg found hard to master. But rather than find this irritating, Matilda dissolved into giggles every time Peg got it wrong. Poppy wished sweet-natured Matilda could be her full-time guru and not Jade Bloody McKeever.

‘Mum!’ Peg caught sight of her out of the corner of her eye. ‘Uncle Katniss made me pancakes and bacon and banana, it was like breakfast and pudding on the same plate and I ate every bit.’

‘Wow, that sounds yummy.’ Poppy slid into the chair next to Simon’s at the table in the centre of the terrace. ‘Look at that view!’ she exclaimed. Her mouth dropped open as she took in the jungle-clad mountains and the way their silhouettes led her eye in a V down to the crystal-clear blue water, which sparkled with sun diamonds in the distance. ‘I’d never get sick of looking at that.’

Simon’s eyes twinkled. ‘I feel blessed every single day.’

‘I can see why!’ Poppy beamed.

Simon smiled at her. ‘I was thinking, we might do a bit of gentle exploring today. I could drive us to a great beach not too far from here. It’s only a couple of steps to get on the sand and then when you’ve had enough, I’ll drive you home. We can have a good chat en route.’

‘That sounds lovely.’

Kate placed a bowl of pineapple and mango in front of her, cut into bite-sized chunks.

‘Well, this is the life!’ Poppy ate as much as she could, feeling a twinge of guilt that Martin and Max were so far away.

Peg jumped from her chair and planted a huge smacker on her mum’s cheek, before she and Matilda ran back into the house, opting to stay at home and play. They had a grand plan to paint each other’s nails in the afternoon and learn a dance routine.

‘They get on well,’ Simon commented as he pulled the car out onto the lane. ‘Peg is lovely and affectionate, you must be so proud of her.’

‘I really am,’ Poppy beamed, subconsciously touching her fingertips to her cheek where the echo of Peg’s kiss lingered.

‘I bet Cheryl spoils her rotten.’

Poppy squirmed in the chair. ‘Not really.’

‘Oh?’ Simon sounded surprised. ‘Is that because she lives overseas? I expect it’s difficult to see each other a lot.’

Poppy took a deep breath. ‘It’s more than that. She’s not really that interested. It was the same when I was growing up. She never touched me, ever. Never brushed my hair or gave me a cuddle, nothing. She was fairly crap on all fronts really.’

‘Are you close to her now?’ Simon asked, hopefully.

Poppy shook her head. ‘No, the opposite, sadly.’ She felt ashamed at the admission.

Simon seemed troubled by her words. ‘Have you
ever
been close?’

‘No, not that I can remember.’ Poppy wasn’t sure how much she should divulge. It still hurt, even at the age of thirty-two, to admit that her mum had been pretty rubbish in every way. ‘I don’t think she could be bothered with me; I was more of an irritation. I was frightened a lot of the time as a kid. She’d come in late, very drunk…’ Poppy rolled her hand in the air, as if to say, ‘You can guess the rest.’

‘That must have been tough for you.’ It was a scenario Simon knew only too well from running the mission.

Poppy breathed in. ‘Well, yes, but your normal is your normal, isn’t it? And I didn’t really know any different. I had Dorothea, of course; luckily she was more of a mother to me.’ She paused and looked at Simon, feeling a flash of unease that Dorothea had got to mother her, but not him. ‘But as a mum myself, I find it hard to understand Cheryl’s choices sometimes. In fact, not sometimes, all of the time.’

‘Does she see Peg and Max?’

‘Only occasionally. She doesn’t really figure in their lives. But they’ve got Granny Claudia, who they’ve adopted and I love. Her son and I were close friends, but he… got killed.’ Poppy pictured the moment, a decade earlier when the car bomb that could quite have easily taken her life too, robbed her of her friend and Claudia of her son. Poppy sniffed as if to rid her nose of the metallic scent of blood that filled her nostrils every time she remembered the carnage.

‘Even the way Claudia treats me makes me feel angry with Cheryl, makes me realise what I’ve missed. I haven’t seen Cheryl since my diagnosis and I know I’m going to have to, but I’m dreading it.’ Poppy picked at her fingernails, agitated. ‘She’s coming to see me when I get home. I’ve managed to put off proper contact until now, but she’s booked her flight apparently. It’s strange to think it might be the last time I see her – strange because I don’t feel overly distressed by the idea. All my sadness is taken up over leaving the kids and, to be honest, there’s not a lot left over.’

‘That’s understandable. It’s a difficult conversation to have with your parent. I can only imagine.’ Simon flicked the indictor and turned the car off the main road and down a lane. It was dark where the large fronds hung over the road and formed a green canopy through which the sun could only glimpse.

‘It will be difficult, but maybe not for the reasons you think.’ Poppy thought for a moment about what she wanted to say to her mum. ‘I feel like it’s my first and only chance to tell her exactly how she has made me feel my whole life. What it felt like to have a mum that lied to me, never followed through and then abandoned me. It was shite and I still feel angry towards her, especially now I’m a mum and my head is full of what is best for Max and Peg, always thinking about what’s best for them.’

‘I feel sorry for your mum.’

‘You do?’ This wasn’t quite the response Poppy had expected.

‘Yes. Look what she has missed! You are an amazing girl and Peg is one in a million.’

Poppy smiled. Yes she was, one in a million…

‘Imagine passing up that opportunity because you couldn’t say no to a drink. That’s very sad.’

It is sad, but it was sad for me, going to school in dirty clothes, going to sleep hungry.

‘Do you want to punish her in some way?’ Simon was direct.

Poppy looked up towards the trees. She hadn’t considered it in this way, until now. She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I dunno, maybe a little bit.’

‘I can understand that too, but I think punishing her would make you feel better only for a very short time and it would make her feel bad for a very long time, maybe for the rest of
her
life. You don’t know that she doesn’t already feel bad – none of us knows what battles anyone else is fighting.’

‘Ha! Tell me about it!’ Poppy’s response was a little sharper than she had intended.

‘I know you know that.’ Simon hesitated. ‘But sometimes it’s not fair to unburden yourself just to make yourself feel better. It’ll be her that’s left and what purpose will it serve? It might be better to leave your hurt behind, let it go. But of course it’s up to you.’

‘I suppose I’ve been looking forward to clearing the slate, leaving nothing unsaid.’ It sounded a little indulgent, even to her ears.

Simon smiled at her. ‘No one can tell you what to do, but I guess my advice would be to think very carefully about the words you leave Cheryl with. It will affect you both.’

He pulled the car up into a gravel clearing next to a group of trees and set off with confidence through the copse. Poppy followed in his wake, descending the sandy path. Simon turned and took her arm. ‘Nearly there.’

She trod slowly over large rocks and the odd knotty branch. It was worth it. One more step forward and she found herself in paradise. The bay was horseshoe shaped, on a gentle incline that allowed the crystal-clear blue water to lap its shore. The fine sand was undisturbed. The trees of the wood behind them cast gentle shadows and shady pockets over the beach. Mother Nature had dotted palm trees where the jungle met the sand. It was perfect.

‘This is where I brought Kate the first time I took her out. I figured if this didn’t make her fall in love with St Lucia, then nothing would.’

‘It obviously worked!’ Poppy chuckled.

‘Yes, eventually. I thought I’d lost her when she went back to England, but I couldn’t get her out of my head. And like anything, if you are meant to have it, it will come back to you.’ He beamed.

Poppy thought of Martin, wondering if he was going to come back to her – or, more specifically, if she would let him.

Simon lowered himself onto the sand. Poppy hesitated and stood staring at the spot next to her uncle.

‘Do you need a hand?’ He looked up, concerned.

She shook her head. ‘No. I’m fine. It’s just that I’ve waited my whole life to lie on a tropical beach and feel the soft powdery sand slip through my fingers. It was one of my wishes – and here I am! I can’t quite believe it.’
And I always thought I would do it with Mart by my side, in a land where I could have anything and everything was possible.

Poppy sank down next to Simon and pushed the long sleeves of her shirt up over her arms, letting the heat of the sun kiss her skin and soothe her bones. She dug her toes into the warm sand and raked it with her fingers. As she allowed the gentle wind to lift both her hair and her spirits, she watched the small waves breaking on the shore with a gentle roll, the rhythm of which could have sent her to sleep. Her fingers chanced upon two beautiful shells. One was about an inch long, bleached white and with its ends shaped to a perfect point. The other was like a tiny scallop shell, with a stunning striped pattern running along its ridges. She dropped them into her top pocket, one for each memory box.

‘I know you are right about my mum, but these thoughts, these memories, they don’t just go away because I have decided to forgive her. The way she treated me shaped me, had a profound effect on my life, and if I hadn’t met Mart, I hate to think how I might have ended up.’

Simon twisted to face her. ‘Think about that, Poppy. You hate to think of how you might have ended up if you hadn’t met Martin, got away and started a new life.’

‘That’s right.’

‘But Cheryl never knew the joy of that, did she? And it doesn’t sound like she ended up with a Martin to show her a different way of life either. That’s sad on both counts.’

‘Blimey, how did you get so smart? Or are you merely defending your sister?’ Poppy joked.

‘Gosh, my sister… that still sounds so odd to me. I grew up as an only child and to find I have a sibling at my age is a huge deal.’

‘She’s not…’

‘Not what?’ Simon prompted.

Poppy searched for the right tone. ‘She doesn’t take life too seriously.’

‘Well that can be a good thing.’

Not if you never learn from your mistakes and life is just one big happy hour.

Both of them were quiet for a while.

Poppy sighed. ‘I guess I just don’t think you and Cheryl would have much in common and I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed.’

Simon chuckled. ‘We have one thing in common – we shared a mum, and I reckon I could talk about
her
all day and night.’

‘I guess so.’ Poppy sounded far from convinced. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back. ‘This is heaven.’

‘Well, not quite, but I’ll grant you, it’s pretty amazing!’

Poppy dug her heels into the sand. ‘This vicar stuff – you don’t seem very…’ She tried to find the word. ‘Preachy.’

‘Would you like to me to be?’ he asked.

‘No.’ Poppy bit her lip. ‘But because I’m dying…’ She took a breath; it still sounded untrue, no matter how many times she said the words out loud. ‘It’s made me think about stuff.’

‘What kind of stuff?’

‘You know, where I might go next, if anywhere.’ She looked up at him and away again, embarrassed.

‘Oh,
that
stuff. Well, I think about it a lot and I do believe that you go to heaven. I don’t know if that’s a place or a state or an idea, but I don’t think this one life is it.’

‘You don’t?’ She blinked up at him.

Simon shook his head. ‘No. And I think that God is good and merciful and if you have suffered or led a good life, then you get your reward in heaven.’

‘That sounds quite nice.’

‘It does, doesn’t it?’

‘Do you think…’ Poppy swallowed. ‘Do you think I’ll get to see my kids again?’

Simon smiled at his niece. ‘I don’t think you’ll ever leave them.’

‘Can I tell you something in confidence, Simon?’

‘Of course.’ He turned to her, his expression solemn.

Poppy hid her face in her hands. ‘This is going to make me sound completely bonkers!’

‘I’ll be the judge of that.’ He smiled.