Four

To:[email protected]

From:[email protected]

Dear Cas,

I’m going home tomorrow. Home to Jersey. Home to Deveraux. And I’m terrified.

Did you know I haven’t been home since I left for Oxford? I’m not sure how you would know. Maybe Gideon tells you some things about me – I admit that sometimes I tell him things I hope he’ll pass on to you. Even if it isn’t true. (I absolutely love it here, I’m doing really well in all my classes, I’ve been seeing someone).

My last exam was yesterday and I feel pretty positive. Even if it did feel weird sitting there in that stupid outfit. Oxford has all these strange, ancient traditions that don’t make sense anymore but everyone gets really excited about. The term names is just one of them, but I’m used to that now. The point of it is to make the students here feel like they’re members of some secret club that only the very clever or very rich get to be a part of.

Though since I’m neither, I think it’s all a bit pointless. But I think the exams went well. I actually think I’m a person who is just good at exams. How I was able to get the grades I did in my A’s when I was still mourning you, I’ll never know. But I did. And I’m mourning you a little less these days, so I guess we’ll see….

I’m also waiting to find out where I’ll be staying next year since they reallocate dorms for second years. I’ll miss sharing the dorm with Bast and Conn and Nika – though they’re all moving as well – but somewhere new might be fun, too.

So, I’m writing this at my desk, on my last night in this place. I won’t miss the early morning bin collection.

I’m scared of seeing Deveraux again after so long. I’m scared about how empty I’m going to feel when I get there, how alone and sad it will feel again without you. It’s different feeling those things here: a lot of people at Oxford are alone and sad. More than I think the University’s Mental Health Committee would care to admit.

I want to go to the birdwatchers hut at least once, I think. I’ll let you know if I do. Sometimes I wonder why I’m not angrier at you. I mean, I am angry at you, really angry. But, I don’t know, I think mainly I’m just sad. Mainly, I just miss you. I miss you all the time. I keep waiting to feel angry, and maybe if I saw you I would be angry with you. I don’t know. I think that I’d just want to hold you, touch you, kiss you.

Fuck, I miss you so much, Cas.

Love,

Jude

The last day of term was 21st June, almost two years and a month to the day Caspien left me, and I could avoid it no longer. I had to go home. The halls were deep cleaned over the summer, and since I wouldn’t be returning to my single room on the second floor, I had to pack everything into two large boxes and a suitcase before I left. I put both into the back of my car and began the just under two-hour journey to the ferry at Portsmouth.

I’d decided to take the car home and leave it there for the coming year. I’d need it to get around the island, and I’d barely used it since I got here as everywhere was walkable, I was really just paying the permit for the privilege of being able to look at it parked in the car park at the dorm.

I had almost three months off. Three months at home. I felt ill with dread at the prospect. Last summer had been awful, and I’d been little more than a walking zombie the last school year; I’d ignored almost every invite Alfie and Josh had given me, no matter what it was, and never bothered going to prom.

Since I’d been in Oxford, I’d exchanged all of four texts and a few Instagram messages with Alfie. Only one with Josh since September. Josh, I knew, was currently in France playing for a rugby team I couldn’t recall the name of.

In any case, I was sure Alfie would want nothing to do with me if I did reach out when I got home. And I wouldn’t have blamed him.

I’d considered hanging out in Portsmouth for the weekend before catching the ferry on Monday morning, but the hotel prices were insane, and when I got there and saw how packed the beach and every café and bar were, I was glad I hadn’t.

If I was looking forward to anything about going home, it was the idea of speaking very little to very few people. I planned to sleep a lot, read a lot, and maybe take a few solitary drives to the beach if the weather held up.

It’s a ridiculously long journey across the channel on the ferry. I slept some, ate an overpriced sandwich, finished a book, and slept a little more. It was 7:30 p.m. when I drove off the boat and onto the island. Around 8:00 p.m. when I reached the gates of Deveraux. Luke came bounding out of the cottage the moment I pulled into the driveway, face bright and happy as a puppy, practically hauling me out of the driver’s seat and into a hug I hadn’t known I’d needed.

“Missed you, Judey,” he said, his voice sounding oddly vulnerable.

“Yeah, me too. Sorry it’s been ages.”

“Hey, you’re busy with uni, we get it. You’re here now,” he said, releasing me. “Got any bags?”

“One and a suitcase. Some boxes in the back seat.” I grabbed my rucksack from the passenger seat while Luke lifted out the boxes. Beth was standing, arms folded, at the front door. She looked happy to see me too, I thought, opening her arms wide and pulling me into a hug.

“Good to see you. Did you eat yet?”

I shook my head. “Shitty sandwich on the boat.”

“There’s curry,” she said and suddenly I could smell it, homely and fragrant.

My mouth watered with want. “Sounds amazing, thanks.”

She nodded and wandered down the hall to the kitchen.

Luke followed me upstairs, dutifully carrying my boxes and setting them down in the corner. My room was exactly as I had left it, though with a new bed set I hadn’t seen before and there was a model plane half built on my desk.

I glanced at Luke and raised an eyebrow.

“Harry bought it for me for my birthday,” he explained. “Been really into it, actually.”

“Makes sense.” Luke was exceptional with anything that required the use of his hands. A lot like Cas had been, in fact.

“You need the desk, though? For your uni work?”

“Nah, it’s fine. I don’t have too much on, just some books to read and films to watch. A single paper if I want to get ahead of myself, but I can use the Library at the big house.”

He nodded, gaze turning thoughtful. “I know Gideon is looking forward to seeing you. Saw him this morning.”

“Yeah? I’ll pop up and see him tomorrow or Tuesday.” It felt like something I had to fortify myself against, not him exactly, but what he might tell me about Cas.

I saw Luke hesitate a moment, consider something, and then, as though my thoughts were as open to him as they were to me, he said, “You ever hear from Cas at all?”

“No,” I said. “Never.”

Luke’s mouth turned down on one side, commiserating. I thought he would say something else because he stood there with that sad look on his face for a few moments before he just nodded.

“I’ll let you get settled. See you downstairs, buddy,” he said, closing the door.

As soon as he was gone, I fell back onto my bed and stared at the familiar crack on the ceiling.

I slept surprisingly well that night and woke the following morning feeling fresh and rested. It was one of those bright white summer days the island was famous for, sparkling with light and heat but with the faintest of breezes coming in from the channel.

I drank a glass of water and ate some cereal at the back door while staring at the lake.

I remembered the day I’d fallen in, and I wondered what I’d do if he came riding up towards the cottage like he had that day. What would it be like to see him again? I could bear it if I knew he thought about me sometimes. If he stood eating breakfast thinking about me for even a moment, then I could bear it, I thought.

By the time I came out of the shower, Luke and Beth were awake and in the kitchen, each making individual breakfasts by the look of it. It’s obvious to me now what was months away from happening then, but at the time, I was too self-absorbed, too completely wrapped up in my own heartbreak to notice anyone else’s.

“I’m going to take a walk around the estate,” I told them without waiting for their response.

I grabbed a book and my sunglasses and headed outside, taking the path leading me towards the birdwatcher’s hut and away from the big house. I’d avoided it since that day, but as I’d lain awake the previous night, I’d decided I would face it today. Maybe there was some healing or closure to be found there. Something that would make everything with Cas make sense, finally. Even if it was to understand that there was nothing to make sense of. Even if it was to accept the fact that he’d been with me purely as a distraction. Purely to prevent me from focusing on Blackwell. I needed to accept that. I needed to move on. It was enough now.

I’d been moping over him for two years, drinking when my feelings got too much to handle, and refusing to give myself over to the possibility of being with anyone else. I’d wanted to become something of an equal to Cas so if we ever met again, he wouldn’t see that weak, stupid boy I’d been then, and what had I done so far? I’d been accepted to Oxford, sure. I’d made it through a single year.

But who was I? What was I?

I was certain I would have nothing to impress Cas with if he had walked back into my life right then. I hadn’t reached the hut, but maybe I didn’t need to go there at all. There was nothing there but bad memories, and I had enough of them living in my head.

I stopped walking, pulled out my phone and shot off a text to Alfie to tell him I was home if he fancied catching up. Then I turned and walked in the opposite direction.

I arranged to meet Alfie in a sports bar in town. Beth had offered to drop me off on her way to meet a friend for dinner. He was already there when I arrived and had snagged a pool table beneath a large screen showing an England versus Sweden friendly that no one was really paying attention to. He greeted me with a big friendly smile, didn’t mention how many of his texts I’d ignored, and offered to get the first round of beers. Josh was still in France so it was just the two of us.

“So, how’s Oxford?” he asked after he’d broke.

“Yeah, it’s tough. But kinda cool too, you know? Still feel like an outsider, but next term should be better.” I missed my shot and lifted my beer. I was pretty terrible at pool, and Alfie knew it, though he still said ‘bad luck’ every time I missed.

“Exams? You get them at the end of first year?”

I nodded, “They went okay, I think. Won’t find out until end of next month, though. Then resits if I’ve messed up.”

“You’ll be good, mate – you’ve always smashed exams.”

“Hope so, hope so. Cannot be arsed with resits.”

He talked about his business development and management course, which he was doing part-time while working with his dad, and told me that he and Georgia were still going strong. She was doing an internship at the States Assembly of Jersey, working in the Lieutenant Governor’s office.

After he beat me at all three rounds of pool, we got a table near the bar and carried on talking. It was nice. I almost felt like my old self again, the Jude before Caspien, nights before I had to get wasted in order to sleep.

“So, what are the girls like at Oxford?” Alfie asked, eyes keen.

I’d had enough to drink that the idea of telling him I liked guys too didn’t feel too terrifying. But he hadn’t asked that, so I figured I’d keep it to myself.

“Yeah, they’re alright.” I nodded. After pondering it a moment, I said, “I went home with this girl on my birthday though and I swear, Alf, I can’t even remember her name.” This made him laugh, though it still didn’t feel very funny to me.

“You ever hear from Ellie?” he asked.

“No,” I said, and he left it there with a grim nod.

We parted ways at closing time with promises to stay in touch. I apologised for being shit at replying to texts and swore to be better, but Alfie waved it off and said we’d catch up at Christmas or when I was next home. I booked an Uber and waited for it on the corner where the main road out of St. Aubin met the pier.

On Sundays, they held a vintage market there, and I thought I might pop down for a bit the following day. For the first time in a year, I felt a looseness spiralling through me. That weightlessness that came from hope and possibility, from knowing that good things lay ahead, from knowing that I could be happy again if I wanted. I’d had my heart broken badly, and for a while, I’d limped along, but today, I’d realised how far I’d come from the person I’d been the day in the birdwatcher’s hut.

I’d been healing, even if it hadn’t felt obvious to me. I was stronger now than I was before Caspien. I’d suffered, I was battle-scarred, but I’d survived.

I slept better that night than I had in months.