It was thankfully quiet as I made my way over to the large oak tree which sheltered Jake from the rest of the world. Dropping my things next to the tree, I knelt in front of the small, grey square which was his permanent resting place. It had become a familiar place to me over the last couple of months, and I’d been able to spend some time with him over Christmas and New Year. Just us.
“Hi. I wanted to tell you about today. I went for a tattoo.” I told him about Dave, about Cass being there with me, about what a wuss I’d been at the start. I told him about the stencil being the same one as his and about the way that made me feel. I described it to him, knowing that it was always one of his favourite spots on my body.
For the first time, I was able to talk to him without crying and I felt proud of myself. Maybe someday his memory would trigger smiles before tears. Maybe someday this ache I carried around with me would become a more manageable burden. Maybe someday I would be able to consider a future without a Jake-shaped hole in it. Maybe. Someday.
“I’m going back to uni tomorrow. They’ve been great about… well, you know, everything and I’m not losing any credits for the work I’ve missed. They sent me a letter yesterday saying I don’t even have to do the mid-year exams unless I feel up to it. I don’t know if I’m going to stay there. Birmingham have said I could transfer there at the end of the semester, which would mean being with Cass and Flynn. But I’m not sure. I think Brighton will be a great place to live in the summer and I’d miss Mickey and Ruby. Even Kema! I guess I’ll have to see how it goes over the next few weeks.” I had unconsciously been stroking the smooth stone whilst I talked, craving any physical connection to Jake I could get.
I felt him with me. He was the wind that rustled the few trees still with leaves: I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it. Him.
“Anyway, I thought you should get some myrtle today, as well.” I picked up the plant I had bought from a garden centre. I caressed the small, glossy leaves which replicated the cluster on my hip. Knowing how much it had meant to him, I knew what I wanted to do before I left town and went back to uni.
Using the small trowel I had bought with the plant, I dug a hole behind the headstone and planted the myrtle, just as I had seen Jake plant things so many times. I envisioned how it would grow behind him, framing the stone, protecting him like the oak tree did from the front: a reminder of the two people who had loved him and been loved by him, just like his tattoo.
“See, you’ll never be alone. I’m always going to be here. Me and your dad. Forever.”
After patting the soil back into place, I took a drink from my bottle of water and then used the rest to water the myrtle. I put everything back into my bag and ran my fingertips over the shallow engraving of his name. Jake.
“You have my heart, Jake. It will always be yours.” My voice broke on the final word and I stood and walked away, knowing he would forever be there.
Wherever life took me, I would take him.
In my heart.
It is less than two years since I started writing, yet I can no longer imagine a life without it. As much as I write for me, I know that I write for my words to be read and so my first gift of thanks must go to you: to every person who has read Heart or Curve. And if you’ve left a review, it’s an even bigger gift, wrapped in shiny paper. And if that review was completely spoiler-free, then this gift is nestling in a small box, topped by a discreetly expensive bow. Never forget how much those reviews mean to authors trying to get themselves known in the great book universe.
Thank you.
There were some individual moments which helped me to bring Heart to life. Watching Holly get a tattoo at the wonderful Shakespeare Ink (yes, the shop and Dave really exist) turned a smidgeon of an idea into two of my favourite scenes. A late-night conversation with Laura from Bookish Treasures gave me the courage to believe that the concept of a happy-ever-after was negotiable. At a couple of dark writer moments, Joanne and Lisa kept me going: I’ve met both through writing and their friendship and support knows no bounds.
Thank you.
If you fell in love with Jake, you have Karli Perrin to thank. She was my critique partner and her input transformed Heart. Seriously, you wouldn’t be reading this if it wasn’t for Karli.
Thank you.
As with Curve, my beta readers cared for me enough to read the draft of Heart and give me the feedback that was easier to receive from friends than via reviews. Brittainy, Hayley, Helen, Holly, Joanne, Lisa, Niki and Sam: you are such wonderful friends at exactly the right time that I need it.