Chim- In aeternum

Chapter 8

She's looking up at the painted stars on Leigh's ceiling, wishing on each of them in the late afternoon darkness, when she hears footsteps down the hall. She steadies herself for the fight she's about to have with Cheryl, holding her breath as the door opens. There's movement in the corner of her eye, Kimberley tensing.

“Shove over.”

She does as she's told, the bed moving under her, Cheryl taking a moment to settle. Kimberley switches to a different star, maybe one she's already wished on, hoping for a reprieve, hoping for anything.

“Which star are you looking at?”

Kimberley raises her hand. “The little one there.”

“Ah...I've totally forgotten what it's called. She was obsessed with the galaxy and astronomy when she was six, had all the maps and those spinning planet things. Ash and I had just...I thought it might cheer her up about the move, keep her on my side...not that there were sides. Thankfully. Anyway, I'd set up for her to stay at Sarah's over the weekend...she ran through the door that Sunday night and loudly exclaimed that she was done with the universe and that she wanted a horse.”

There's numerous toy horses, stuffed and plastic, pictures of horses pinned to each wall. They're lying on a quilt with a massive Clydesdale on it.

“I damn well nearly killed Sarah over it...but she said Leigh was a natural, that there wasn't anything to worry--”

She hears Cheryl's voice break, taking a chance and reaching for her hand.

“She's okay Chez. She's strong...and stubborn, and she's gonna be fine. She's too much of a Tweedy not to be.”

There's a low huff, Kimberley feeling Cheryl squeezing her hand. There's a settling of her stomach as a result, the quiet no longer bothering her.

“The photo was...it was the last thing I had of you, that's all,” Cheryl softly states.

“I know. It just...it shouldn't have been. You're supposed to have more than that, and it just reminded me I don't have any of it either. I'm supposed to have endless photos of you and me and the girls...Leigh when she was a baby, when she started walking. When she first got on a bloody horse. I was supposed to have those horribly uncoordinated finger paintings on my fridge, that macaroni necklace made especially for me in a shoebox somewhere in the back of my cupboard. I left you with a damn photo when I should've--”

“But you weren't Kimberley...you weren't here, and no amount of wishing on stars is going to change that.”

“Cheryl--”

“No...no more.”

The Geordie lets go of her hand as she gets off the bed, heading towards the cupboard doors. There's a shifting of clothes and suitcases before the younger woman pulls down a red box, sitting back down on the bed and placing it in between them before opening it.

“I used to show her all these photos of you and the girls...played our songs to her, talked about you all the time. When I said you were her fairy godmother, I meant it...she drew this,” Cheryl hands the folded paper to Kimberley, “when she was in her first year...the teacher thought you were her imaginary friend.”

There she was in orange crayon, oversized tiara on her head, floating above the green grass that the Cole's were standing on. Leigh had drawn her stick figure alter ego's head, as well as Cheryl's, looking up at the flying Kimberley, while Ashley looked straight ahead. He almost looked like an add in to the far left of the picture, more detail in her own purple dress and figure than anywhere else.

“God...I've never been so thin.”

Cheryl laughs quickly, pointing at Leigh's drawing of her. “I wasn't far off that, but that's another story. She asked me to send it to you when she gave it to me, and I've been holding on to it ever since.”

Kimberley smiles. “I've got it now.”

“Yes you do.”

-----

Adam's son Rhys turns seven on Saturday, Kimberley all but forgetting the birthday party until her mother rings her on Thursday night to remind her. It's odd saying goodbye to Leigh, knowing she isn't going to see the youngster for the whole of the weekend, so set in her and Cheryl's routine that she almost turns into the hospital car park on her way past.

Odder still is the time she sits with the little boy, stuttering out questions that she should know the answers to, like what his teacher's name is, what he likes doing on the weekends. He's free and easy with Amy and Sally, awkward and suspicious around her and it breaks her heart.

“I think he just needs to see you so he can get to know you,” Adam says quietly when he finds her crying upstairs, “He can't have got you this upset...are you worried about Leigh?”

The youngster's fine, on the mend, so she shakes her head, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

“Cheryl then?”

She doesn't know whether to nod her head or shake it, unsure of why she was being so emotional when things had gotten better between the two of them. She shrugs.

“Listen...if you're not sure, that's okay. You've been in each other's pockets for the last little bit...there's going to be some tears I guess. She always was highly emotional...never knew where to put my feet.”

Kimberley watches him reminiscing about Cheryl, the ex that got away. They'd made a good couple, but the time away from each other had gotten the better of them.

“She picked the wrong Walsh, you know.”

It takes a moment for her mind to catch up with the comment, the lights in the bathroom suddenly too hot on her skin, her brother's look a little too questioning as her own eyes widen.

“I don't--”

“Come on Kimmy...you two always had something special. I thought you'd catch on eventually, but then you met Justin and she got married...something happened between the two of you though, didn't it?”

“No...that's ridiculous.”

It's too quick, too insistent, and she knows Adam's read her like a book, closing her eyes to block out his compassionate gaze. Ten years of silence have sat on her shoulders and she's about to break under the weight.

“She came round about a week after Mum had gotten that call from you,” Adam starts, Kimberley looking back at him in surprise, “She was completely off her face, demanding to know where you were, saying she'd made a mistake, that she just wanted you back, that that night didn't have to matter--”

“So you guessed.”

Adam nods. “I was waiting for you to call so I could tell you about it, but you never did. It would've saved a lot of heartache.”

“For her?” Kimberley says defensively.

“No, for the both of you. I was really p!ssed off at you till I saw her, because I didn't know what the bloody hell you were thinking...but then I realised you were just as heartbroken as her. I stopped hating you after that, just worried myself to death.”

“I'm sorry for that.”

“It's all right...well, it's not, but there's no changing it, so I won't hold it over you.”

He wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her to him so he can kiss her head. Kimberley grabs onto his shirt and stays there a moment, embracing the warmth her brother's offering.

“There's still time for her to pick the right Walsh Kimmy...if that's what you want.”

She didn't know what she wanted. Ten years had done nothing to dampen the memory of the night they'd spent together, the passion and honesty still gripping her heart, the intimacy permanently seared into her brain. Cheryl had felt like home in those small hours, offering a contentment that Kimberley hadn't felt since.

She wanted to feel it again.