EDGE OF DAY

CHAPTER 33

The first rays of the day poked through the camper van's orange curtains. Will was asleep with one arm around her, the covers half falling off his back. She twisted to kiss his bare shoulder, then freed herself from his embrace. She scooted out of the covers and put on one of his long-floppy t-shirts that she'd officially adopted, then wriggled into a pair of joggings.

Will was dreaming of something that made his lips twitch into a smile. She smiled back. Her neck was stiff, and her body heavy from all the crying she'd done in the two-day grief ritual they'd finished last night. But her overwhelming sorrow, which regularly filled her up to the brim and overflowed at the most awkward moments, seemed emptied out. The ache in her body was more the ache of starting to let go than the pain of holding on.

She climbed over the gap to the front seat and opened the door. A sea breeze, fresh and salty, swept through the van. She picked up the plaid rug, slung it over her shoulders, and closed the passenger door behind her.

The tarmac of the café parking lot was bumpy beneath her feet, but once she'd crossed the road, her soles sunk into the soft, dew-soaked sand. Her toes curled up with the cold, and a shiver ran up her spine.

The sun peeped above the sea. Low white cliffs surrounded the small bay. As far as the eye could see, apart from the birds, she was the only creature awake in Talland Bay.

She sat down on the damp sand, hugging the rug around her shoulders. The sea was calm, moving to and fro like the soft breath of a child asleep. The sun crept higher, melting the cool blue-black sky with its warmth. Orange light danced on the distant waves. The light stretched across the waters as the sun climbed the horizon.

She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the sun on her eyelids. Black and orange dots filled her vision. Salt wafted up her nose. The shushing of the ocean accompanied her heartbeat. When she looked again, the sky was a fluffy light blue. Verdant fields rolled across the low cliff-tops, long grass swaying and bushes rustling in the easterly wind. At a moment like this, with the warmth of the sun, and the healing energy of the earth rising through her, Daisy knew, despite the pain, she wanted to be in the world, of the world.

Will appeared in flip-flops and shorts, carrying two coffee mugs. They sat sipping coffee, a plaid rug stretched over their touching shoulders. His hair had grown longer at the front since she'd met him five months ago. Blonde tufts flopped over his eyes.

"So how are we doing?" Will asked.

Daisy thought of the last twenty-four hours. The grief rituals and ceremonies of the last two days had been a tribal, raw, gut-wrenching experience. The man who led them had lost his wife and three young children in a fire years ago, but he still hollered and wailed when they lit the bonfire. He said grief was connected to the sacred. He said in the absence of finding meaningful ways to express sorrow, grief would go underground and reshape the soul in ways a person could not see.

She had finally let go in a wild frenzy of anguish and agony, wailing and throwing dirt on the great fire. And the fire had carried her agony to the stars in billows of thick smoke.

She looked at Will. "I think we're doing ok."

"How about now," he said, leaning in and kissing her. A tingle ran under her skin and down through her legs. Will had been amazing. She couldn't imagine getting through the last five months without him. He'd understood everything she was going through because he was going through it too. There had been days when she couldn't face getting up, and he'd carried her into the living room and made her watch his favorite films. There had been days when neither of them could face getting up, and they'd hidden under the covers.