Page 97 of Things We Never Said
It had been the Saturday before April’s birthday, and she had travelled up to Cambridge to collect her gift beforehand because – as she explained it – the following Friday, when her birthday actually fell, she’d be working. But they had all known the truth. They had all feared that the following Saturday might be too late. And, tragically, they’d been right.
Though Catherine had picked out the necklace some months before, she had been so dosed up on morphine that day that she’d barely been present to hand it over.
Once April had left for London, her watery eyes belying her emotions, Sean had returned, for a while, to lie next to his sleeping wife. She had murmured something that sounded like ‘dream’ a few times in her sleep. And Sean had prayed that she was having good dreams.
Cassette #29-A
Hello Sean.
I’m awake early this morning, and I’m just about with it. I haven’t had to hit the morphine much yet, and the pain, unusually, is bearable. That seems unfair, really. I’d so much rather have been awake like this when you and April were here yesterday – was it yesterday? Time stretches and shrinks these days, so it’s hard to tell.
Still, my mind is clearer today so at least I can crack on with these damned tapes. I must say, I think I’ve had enough of them. I’ve had enough of it all.
I’m nearing the end now. There are shadows closing in on me from the edges. I’ll tell you about them, maybe, if I find the time and the energy, but both of those things are becoming precious and rare, so I’d better just get on with the things I need to say.
I’ve been dreaming about the day I met you, you know. I’ve been dreaming about Dreamland. Isn’t that funny?
You know how people always say that your life flashes before your eyes? Well, perhaps that’s what this is. Perhaps that’s why I’m dreaming of the very beginning. Whatever the reason, it’s a lovely dream.
In it, I’m there, sitting at my turnstile. I feel exactly as I felt back then. Young and a bit horny, I suppose. And nervous, too. And insecure about ... well, about everything, really. It’s hell being young. We forget that as we get older, but the dream has reminded me just how scary everything seems when you’re eighteen. The dream felt so real.
Anyway, I’m there in Dreamland, and I’m thinking about Phil and what a waste of space he is, and wondering if I should dump him, and I’m wondering if Mum has any food in the freezer other than chips, and I’m hoping that Stinky Dennis won’t be there drinking beer in his underpants when I get home. My life feels small and dull and predictable. There doesn’t seem to be much to look forward to, really. And then suddenly there you are, walking past with your friends, that restrained smile on your lips, that glint in your eye.
Only, because this is a dream, I can see things in the glint. In fact, I can see my whole life ahead of me reflected in your eyes. I can see our college years and April being born, and punting along the Cam. I can see our holiday in Greece and April’s first day at school and almost losing you, and getting you back again. And I can see things that can’t really be seen in real life, too. I can see your fears, and I can see the love, Sean. This won’t make any sense to you, because it’s all just a dream, of course. But I can see all the love that was in you, waiting for me. It has a pinkish sort of glow about it and it’s soft and welcoming, like marshmallow. Perhaps I could see it that day. Perhaps that’s how I knew.
It’s been such a wonderful life, Sean. It’s been so much better than I ever imagined things could be, especially for a girl like me.
This is the recording for my twenty-ninth photo, baby, and I think that it’s enough. I need to do the initial one as a sort of covering letter – a covering tape, I suppose – to sort of ... introduce the whole thing, but after that, I think I’m going to stop.
You know, I was twenty-nine weeks pregnant when we got married. Imagine that! Our beautiful baby daughter was a twenty-nine-week-old prawn living in my tummy – actually a pretty huge prawn, by then – and it was enough time for us to know we wanted to spend our entire lives together, wasn’t it? So twenty-nine weeks is enough. It’s enough for a beginning and it’s enough, I reckon, for an end.
I have one more thing to tell you. Actually, maybe I have two things to tell you, but I haven’t decided about the second one yet. Maybe that’s something I’ll take with me to the grave.
The first and most important one is about love. It’s such an amazing thing to go through life with someone who loves you, Sean. And if anyone knows that, it’s me.
As I’ve been doing all these tapes, I’ve been thinking more and more – sometimes for days on end – about you and Maggie. I’ve been trying to decide once and for all whether you had an affair or not.
Some days I’ve convinced myself that you did. And not only has that made me feel a bit better about my own meandering off the straight and narrow, but I’ve found myself feeling glad for you. We all need a bit of fun in our lives, after all. We all need some excitement, some adrenalin. This idea that we should get everything we need from a single person seems a bit silly really, when it’s put into perspective. And being in my situation really does put things into perspective.
On other days, like today, I’m pretty sure that you didn’t. And on these days, I think that not only did nothing happen, but that you never realised that she’s in love with you. I actually think that you may even be a bit in love with Maggie, too, but I’m pretty certain you’ve never let yourself even think about that, either.
If I’m right – if I’m right today, that is, because I do keep changing my mind – and you do have a thing for each other only you’ve never spoken about it, then know that I’m not jealous, Sean. I’m really, really not.
Whether she slept with you or not, Maggie is an amazing person. Of course, she’s an even better person if she managed to keep her knickers on for all these years, but even if she didn’t, she’s generous and funny and adventurous, and good-hearted. She really does have more good qualities than just about anyone I know, and looking back on things, she’s certainly been the best friend I’ve ever had. Well, apart from you, obviously.
So yes, I think that perhaps you two have always been secretly in love with each other. And I don’t think that detracts from what we had in any way. We can love multiple people, and there’s no shame in it, either.
If it’s true, then please don’t waste it, Sean. That’s the thing I’ve been wanting to say.
Nothing could make me happier than to know that you’re happy with someone as good and as loving as Maggie. And nothing could make me happier than to know that Maggie, finally, got to date someone as wonderful as you. God knows, she’s waited long enough, poor girl.
So that’s it. I’m done here, my darling. I feel like I’ve lived my entire life twice. And that’s enough for anyone.
Move on now, if you can. I’ve been fading for almost two years now, and by the time you listen to this, I’ll have been gone for almost seven months more.
It’s all coming to an end for me, Sean, and know that I’ve no regrets. It’s been a wonderful life, baby. Thanks to you, it’s been amazing.
But you still have time left on this planet, and that’s precious and magical, and miraculous. So, don’t waste it, eh? Move on with your life, whether it’s alone, or with Maggie, or with someone else. Live every minute of it as if minutes were in limited supply. Because one day, like me, you’ll find out that they really were.
