THE TROUBLE WITH PAPER PLANES(17)

I’ve failed her.

Somewhere along the line, I’d let her down. Somewhere out there, she was waiting for me to find her.





JUST BEFORE SUNRISE, we made our way together down the path at the end of the small cul-de-sac and down onto the grass above the beach.


This was Emily’s day, too.

We were all tucked away inside ourselves, together in body, but alone with our memories of her. The seagulls overhead filled the silence with white noise, seamlessly blending with the sound of the crashing waves. There, but not there.

That’s how I felt, too, especially after last night. My body was here, but in my head, I was with Em, wherever she was.

She was laughing, we were all singing happy birthday, and then she blew out candles, picking them out of the cake and sucking the icing off the bottom with a cheeky grin.

Probably just the hangover, messing with my head, but I found myself wondering how we came to all be here, at this point. How did it come to this? Celebrating another birthday without her. Another year with no card, no presents, no cake. I was another year older without her.

I was twenty-three when she disappeared. What did I know, about anything? Now I was twenty-eight and I felt like an old man. This wasn’t the plan. In our alternate universe, we had spent two years travelling in Europe, maybe gone back to London for a year, travelled through America on our way home and been back here in New Zealand for a year or so, contemplating our next move. Maybe we got married. Maybe I proposed to her in Italy, over candlelight, at sunset, both of us full of cheap local wine. Maybe we had a kid by now – kids, even. She would’ve been a great mother. Bridget would’ve been a grandmother, Henry a great-grandfather, Alex and Vinnie uncles. Maybe our kids and Vinnie and Jas’s would’ve grown up together, side by side. Maybe our little family would’ve been doubled.

I looked up at Alex now, as we filed towards the rocks at the end of the grass path in silence. Alex, as he was five years ago, would’ve been a great uncle. Fun, relaxed, caring. Not now, though. Now, he had that permanent black cloud hovering over him.

Vinnie’s hand on my shoulder brought me back down to earth again. He didn’t have to say anything. He just wanted me to know he was there, right behind me, right where he’d always been. He’d dragged me back from hell more than once. He’d kicked my ass a few times too, when I really needed it. He’d given me his spare room when the ghosts in my own house wouldn’t let me sleep.

We traipsed along the grass track until the only way forward was over the rocks. Henry wasn’t that surefooted, and as Jas put it ‘I can’t even see my feet anymore.’ So we stood where the grass met the rocky foreshore, and watched the sun come up. Me, Bridget, Henry, Vinnie, Jas and Alex.

I draped my arm around Bridget’s shoulders. I could feel her trembling, the grief seeping out of her and into me, mingling with my own until I couldn’t tell the difference. Henry put his arm around her waist and we three stood there, watching the waves. Alex stood alone, hands in the pockets of his jeans. Henry reached out for him, but he ignored him. That was his thing now. He kept everyone at arm’s length.

Vinnie and Jas had their arms around each other. I realised, with a suddenness that jolts you from deep inside, that his birthday would always be entwined with hers, no matter what. Joy always laced with heartache. It wasn’t right, but he had already accepted it with a maturity that still had the capacity to surprise me. I was the one late to the party, too busy wallowing to see it.

From beside me, Bridget recited the Lord’s Prayer in a shaky voice, the only time I’d ever heard anything remotely religious come from her. It’s funny, who or what you turn to in times of great sorrow. If it gave her comfort, I was all for it. She deserved it. I wished I could find something that would do the same for me.

As the sun rose in the sky, like a great golden ball being pushed up from inside the earth, a new day dawned. It seemed to defy gravity. I had the sense that the sun was standing still, and I was falling. The longer I looked at it, the more real it felt. Like an optical illusion, my eyes playing tricks on me.

“Amen,” Bridget murmured.

Alex began to walk away, but Henry called him back. Alex turned to us, his face etched with pain, his blonde, scraggy hair hanging limply around his face. Had he even slept at all last night? He looked worse than I felt.

“Stay,” Bridget begged, reaching out to him.

He shook her off – literally. It was clear he wanted nothing to do with any of us, yet he was here. I presumed it was for her, for Bridget, but he obviously had his limits. It was radiating from him; ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’