Page 120 of The Truth About You and Me
‘Let’s wait here,’ Charl says. ‘I’ll text him and tell him where we are.’
Sometimes, when I wake in his arms on a Saturday morning at Chadders, with the sounds of his –our– family downstairs, I panic that I’m living a dream. That when I wake up, I will be alone in my flat with only Bruce for company. But I never wake because this is my life now. I’m living my happy ever after. And life isn’t perfect, just as Jack said that day in his shop. He still has days where reading exhausts him. Sometimes I have days where everything I try to do in my new house goes wrong, and I have to call an emergency plumber. Jack curses when he trips over my shoes that I never put away, and I wake up in the night and have to give him a gentle nudge to turn over so he stops snoring. But since I gained control over my gift, life has opened up in a way I never thought possible.
My house, 53 Pickford Avenue, is slowly filling with things from our travels. Photos of us, me and Tess on our nights out, and the Chadwicks in all their colourful and loud glory. My shelves are filling with snow globes and souvenirs from every city and seaside town we have visited, including the day where Jack taught me how to kitesurf. And the night we went to see Tess as she sold out at her first Hammersmith Apollo set. She’s touring now, and is finally beginning to see herself the way I have always seen her.
Hunting for the perfect place for his next shop has taken us to Paris, to Rome, and now, New York. The place that I’ve seen on the screen so many times, and here I am, part of it.
People bump into me, and while I still have the urge to pull myself away from the crowds, to hide in doorsteps and quiet corners, with each day that passes where I can listen to my own thoughts above anyone else’s, it gets easier to live in this beautiful, messy world. Occasionally, thoughts will find their way through, if they are upset or angry, or when I’m lying next to Jack and he’s overwhelmed with love for me.
I still visit Heritage, and Derek. His thoughts are getting harder and harder to hear, but occasionally they will be a memory of William. I try my best to keep those memories alive for him, to give him – and some of the other residents – comfort. But for the most part, my thoughts are just my own.
Now, back to the task in hand… whereishe?
Another float is approaching. Oktoberfest-themed women are swinging beer steins. The outside of the float is decorated in red, white and blue balloons, flowers, and flashing fairy lights.
‘Where’s Uncle Jack?’ Greta tugs on my hand. I crouch down.
‘He had to take an important phone call, but he’ll be?—’
Through the speakers, a twang of feedback, then a voice:
‘This goes out to a very special woman?—’
Itcan’t be.
‘—who wanted to see something spectacular today.’
Greta shakes her red pigtails, hand pointing towards the float. ‘I saidthere’sUncle Jack!’
I stand quickly, eyes frantically searching until they land on Jack. He’s standing on the float, wearing Ferris Bueller’s leopard-print waistcoat over a white T-shirt, microphone in hand.
‘Gotcha,’ Charl says loudly by my ear, turning her camera first to me then to the float. The first bars of ‘Twist and Shout’ begin. I clamp my hand over my mouth, laughter climbing up my throat. Tess is behind him, wearing the full on lederhosen and a grin that she used to hide. She’s swaying and dancing the way we used to in a locked room with headphones on, and now here she is with the crowds of Manhattan dancing with her. She used to protect herself with jokes so people wouldn’t tease her about her looks, her weight, but now – my heart is so full just watching her – here she bloody is. And she is magnificent.
Jack continues miming to ‘Twist and Shout’, John Lennon’s voice powering out as he encourages the crowds to twist and shout with him. And while he looks one hundred per cent embarrassed, he’s captured all the moves, his dark hair blowing in the breeze. His eyes search the crowds, looking for me as the float moves slowly towards us. Our eyes meet and he gives a little shrug and grins, beckoning me over.
‘Oh no…’ I say but Charl pushes me forward and parts the barrier. ‘I can’t!’
‘Oh yes you can!’
Jack continues miming, reaching out his hand as he sings the part about me looking so good. He steps down to the edge of the float, hand outstretched.
Oh Christ. I take in the look in his eyes and shake my head with a laugh.
He’s replaying the whole scene. I have no idea how he pulled this off. My heart is jackhammering against my ribs… He planned this. The trip, getting us here for the famous Von Steuben Day parade, arranging everything so I could be part of the movie that I have loved and watched for so many years, always the spectator never the star. I reach out a hand, warm in his cold ones, and climb onto the float. The crowd are cheering, flags waving as he puts his arms around me.
‘You’re nuts!’
But Jack just grins and carry’s on singing as he twirls me around. Surrounding us, the cheers from the crowd are getting louder, Tess flinging sweets and flowers like she belongs on Fifth Avenue. As the song comes to its feet-stomping crescendo, he brings me into his arms, and dips me like I’m onStrictly. ‘Jack Chadwick…’ I run my hand along his cheek. ‘You are my hero.’ He kisses me, and there’s that familiar zing, that yank inside like there is a chord latched between us, pulling us closer. I’m laughing as he pulls me back, his dark eyes scanning my face.
‘Happy anniversary.’
‘I can’t believe you did this.’
‘I wanted to give you your dream,’ he replies. Both of us are out of breath. He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear as I stroke the side of his face. ‘You already did.’
He wraps one arm around me and continues waving to the crowd. I follow suit, looking out at the throng of spectators cheering with phone screens pointing our way.
My eyes snag on a little girl on her father’s shoulders. She’s wearing an astronaut outfit: thick white fabric, puffy white glove, face inside a plastic dome, hands waving an American flag. My hand stills for a second as I think back to myself as a child, to the little girl who learnt to stay safe by keeping love away.
