“Once upon a time…” The woman sat a little straighter, watched the ducks as they swam away. “Once upon a time, there was a little girl called Ophelia who had a pet duck named Terence.”

The girl’s hand stilled. She gave a small sniff, then turned her face back toward her grandmother, a question forming in those hazel eyes.

“What do you think she looked like?” Catriona Robinson asked her granddaughter, a picture already forming in the child’s mind.

Emily sighed as she remembered thinking of how the girl would be short, but not too short. With hair tied up in pigtails and a green wooly hat. Terence wore Wellington boots, and a scarf when it was chilly, and they both loved hot chocolate with pink-and-white marshmallows floating on top, drunk in front of the fire while they sat, side by side, warming their feet.

It all begins and ends here, she thought, picking up the last of the blue sheets of paper, the very last piece of the puzzle, the very last thing left behind for her to discover.

12 August 2018

I feel free in a way I haven’t for years. Taken back the control which cancer stole from me. The months of treatment, the sickness, the absolute exhaustion of it all. I was also so very aware of what it did to Emily. How it made her even more reclusive, even more reluctant to engage with the world.

She is angry with me, at me, for giving up the fight. But this way I can simply be. Swim in the sea. Eat ice cream, drink champagne and actually live again.

One day I hope she will understand, forgive me for dying in a way she never could forgive her parents. I know I never could forgive and forget the torturous hand of fate, but I have learnt, somehow, to accept it. To believe in a better tomorrow.

I met a man this morning. His name is Richard and he has kind eyes and a great, big dog who licked my toes with glee. I’m wondering if he is to be my leaving present. The last person for me to love before I go. I want that for my darling Emily. For her to know the exquisite pain of loving someone and wishing only that they will love you in return.

Often I lie awake at night, thinking of him, of Noah, and all that could have been. He was my first love. After him, no one ever came close. But perhaps I was partly to blame, because I was afraid of ever hurting that way again.

I know now of all the different ways one person can love. I wonder whatever happened to Margot’s father? What would have happened if we had never met? Never shared the briefest moment that went on to create another life, another future. Oh, my beautiful girl, my baby, my beloved. I loved you so and have missed you every single day. I loved them all so very, very much and only wish that there was more time.