Forked Roads Back

45 - TESSA

"THIS ONE HERE, JAMIE."

I point to the turning on our left for where the church and cemetery is and he turns in slowly, parking next to a beautiful gun metal grey F-Type.

Despite the earlier rain, as soon as Jamie cuts the engine, the humidity creeps in. Fanning myself, I open the door to let in some air as Jamie reaches into the backseat to grab the flowers Dad had got, adding to the ones I'd put there two weeks ago.

As I walk forward, my feet guide me by themselves. Since seeing him two weeks ago, I've now come here most days, spending the afternoon talking to him. I've been recounting the last two years to him, and each time I left, I always felt like I forgot something, so I just headed back the next day.

I've talked about my friends at university, how strange they probably think I am, but put up with me anyway. I've talked about everything and anything to do with Jamie. Our holiday, working at Black Flag, living with him, his little gimmicks. I've talked about my course, and how much I'm enjoying it with Glen and Ryan. I've talked about Dad and Millie. And today... today I feel like it's the day to ask him about Archie. To ask him what I should do.

I could hear him in the back of my mind, saying that I had to let him go and move on properly, but I didn't want to. Or rather I couldn't bring myself to. I could also hear him telling me to move on after what happened to him. Every time I came, I felt like I was forgetting him more and more, and I didn't want the day to come where I no longer remembered what he looked like, sounded like or even smelt like. Dad would think I was being ridiculous, and I do know I need to pull myself together, but two years is still a short amount of time after losing someone like Matt. He wasn't just my brother, he was my best friend, and losing both the boys in one go was quite literally shattering. But there were always going to be things that would set me off about both boys not being here, not just Matt. And over the days where Jamie's been away at his internship, there have been times I've just found myself sobbing uncontrollably over something ridiculously tiny.

The other day I'd been trying to find my gladiator sandals for a surprise dinner Jamie was taking me to in town. Whilst looking, I came across the box of shirts I was storing to give back to Archie, as well as the ball I'd taken from them when we were about ten or eleven.

It brought back memories where Archie and Millie came to stay with us for a few weeks over summer that year, and the boys would play football all day every day. Some days Millie and I played, some days we didn't, but after a week or two, Millie and I had had enough. Millie lured them inside with lemonade whilst I nicked it, hiding it in the back of my wardrobe, and it seems I'd forgotten about it. I remember the plan not lasting long... as Matt just brought out another ball when they couldn't find their one.

Seeing it in my hands last week, all dusty and deflated, it made me wonder what was so special about that particular ball. But as I rolled it in my hands, I found their signatures, now quite faded, and their ages beneath - Archie being seven and Matt being six - so it must have been the ball they played with at primary school, holding so many memories. Counting on my fingers, the ball was nearly fifteen years old.

When I got to dinner later that evening, Jamie looked at me concerned because he could see I'd been crying. I tried to assure him I was fine, and after I pulled myself together - willing myself not to cry - we had a great time with his internship colleagues, one of whom it turns out I knew from school.

But now, as we walk slowly, hand in hand towards his headstone, I'm glad Jamie's with me.

As we get closer, Jamie squeezes my hand lightly and kisses the side of my head. "I'll give you a few moments," he tells me, before walking away, towards the church.