Page 47 of The Fall I Fell

I believed him. I believed every word he could ever say.

The last time we were alone together like this, we were at each other’s throats on the beach. But none of that mattered any more, at least not right now. Adam, Pen, all of our childish jealousies and gripes meant nothing in that moment, forgotten temporarily as something far more important took precedence. It was like we’d settled into an unspoken truce. Maybe we would argue about it again another day in the future, but all that mattered was that regardless of how angry we were with one another, he was here when I needed him most. No words spoken before then were more important than my best friend supporting me through the worst days of my life.

Jacob did come to the funeral. As I climbed out of the car in my powder blue dress that was covered from bust to hem in hand-stitched embroidery, he waited for me outside. His suit was perfectly pressed, his trousers reached his ankles, and his tie was almost an exact match of the one Granny made for Grandad.

It was then, I knew, I could get through that day.

Chapter 25

Now

‘Will, no offence but I’m really not in the mood to give you a hand with fixing your tractor, or hosing down any cows.’ I groan as I trek behind him, dragging my feet in the gravel.

‘I’m going to just pretend you didn’t say that.’ He pauses briefly to place a hand on his chest, offended, before resuming his break-neck pace that leaves Lizzie and I practically jogging.

Ironically, the day is beautiful. The only traces left of storm Brenda are a few little puddles along the driveway. If it weren’t for the fact that I can see my breath as I walk, I wouldn’t blame anyone for thinking this was the blue sky of a spring day. The farms are quiet this time of year – the animals are in their sheds, the winter fields are drilled, and a sense of calm settles on the place. Today doesn’t feel like that, though.

I hear their voices before I see them. Will guides us around to the treehouse where a crowd has gathered. Freya is always the loudest one in any group, and it doesn’t take me long to pick her out, alongside Ash, and Oscar.

‘What’s going on?’ I turn to Will, but he only gives me a menacing smile. ‘Is that my dad?’ I ask, already knowing full well that it is. He’s standing next to Dave Thorogood, nodding and chatting away as though he’s been here all along. I hadn’t realised how much I missed him until I see him here, grinning from ear to ear, completely unchanged from happier days.

Freya, pausing in her conversation long enough to notice me, rushes over to pull me into a hug. ‘Look at this place! How exciting!’

‘What are you doing here?’ I must be dreaming. I look between my friends, then to Mum, who is standing next to my Dad for the first time in months. They both look actually happy to be together again, as they hang out around my childhood treehouse. I can only stare at Freya perplexed. My heart feels full, and I rub at my eyes wondering if this is all real. Maybe a stray tree branch, loosened by storm Brenda, had actually knocked me out last night and all of this is some sort of hallucination. Either way, real or not, this is the first time I’ve felt whole in weeks.

Looking past the array of familiar faces, I notice they’re all gathered around something. Ribbons wrap around the branches of the tree, and photographs are pinned to the trunk the whole way up until you reach the treehouse, and that too has been decorated with fairy lights and draped with fabrics. For the first time I see Jacob, stood as far up the tree as he can get, smiling down at the scene below like some angel admiring his divine work.

‘Nice to see you too.’ Freya shoves me by the shoulder before squeezing me tight in her embrace again. ‘Jacob invited us,’ she says, wiggling her eyebrows. ‘All the trains were cancelled in that freak storm, but your dad saved the day. Drove us all here in the early hours.’

‘But what for?’ I’m still perplexed, my mind unable to catch up with all of these new events that have been thrown a me.

‘Well, we came for your exhibition. But obviously, that didn’t go to plan with the whole flood and mud thing, so here we are.’ Freya pulls me towards the tree so I can see more clearly. Photographs of costumes, of Granny, of my work, cover nearly every knot and knoll. ‘I think he salvaged what he could from the mud and a few of his own bits, and brought the exhibition home to you instead.’ She nudges me again, wrapping herself around my arm to look at me with her dreamy eyes that only ever suggest one thing.

One of the photos is of Will, Jacob, Alfie, and Callum, all styled with skinny scarves, plastic high heels and a couple of tiaras: the first fashion show I ever directed. I had swept the whole barn and lined the catwalk with bales of hay and forced all of the boys to dress up while Lizzie took photos on Jacob’s camera. They pretended to hate it, but their struts and twirls said otherwise. Most of these other photos I’ve never seen before. Many of them are of me through the years, but there are also ones of Granny, the garden, the treehouse, of the very same exhibition we set up yesterday that no one saw but us. Every single one of these photos was taken by him, in moments of silent observation, and he’s done all of this for me.

Searching for him, I’m pulled in every direction as Oscar and Ash call my name, Sian and Dave clap me on the shoulder to congratulate me, and Alfie hands me a photo he’s plucked off the tree. It’s of himself when he was seven years old, and I had dressed him up in an outfit that makes him look like an extra out of Bridgerton, if they all wore plastic top hats and jackets sewn by an eight-year-old.

Sidestepping him and his grumpy pout, I slip away to find Jacob, who is no longer among the tree’s branches. My heart is pounding in my chest. He’s done all of this, for me. He’s taken all of these pictures, developed them, for ten years. He’s captured my whole life here on camera, without me ever even noticing. And above all else, he’s brought everyone here, my two lives woven together in this moment, and it all seems to slot together perfectly in a way I could never imagine before. I need to thank him. I need to throw my arms around him, I need to—

‘Ava!’ Pen calls from across the field as she joins us all late. ‘This looks amazing! I’m sorry I’m late. I hope you don’t mind, but I brought Mrs Hill from your photography class.’ She leans a little closer. ‘I think it’s a lovely idea from Jake, but I figured you’d still need that little bit of extra credit from her for uni, so we might as well make the most of what he’s done.’

Why does she have to be so bloody perfect?

‘Thank you, Pen. Really … thank you so much.’ I clutch her by her hands and she gives me a wink, before taking Mrs Hill on a tour of the treehouse.

‘It looks like I don’t need to ask how you’re settling in up here.’ Dad finds me catching my breath for a moment. As he looks around at the spectacle with such a soft look of pride, I could almost be convinced that he was about to cry.

‘I’ve missed you.’ He pulls me in close and I bury my face in his shirt.

‘I’ve missed you too. Thank you for coming all this way. And for bringing all of those guys – I know it can’t have been the most peaceful journey.’ Dad and I chuckle together as we watch Freya talk the ear off of Sian Thorogood, who can only nod to keep up with her.

‘Ava, you know you only have to ask, and I’d be here in a flash. Just because me and your mum aren’t together any more, doesn’t mean we can’t both be in your life.’

I smile sadly at him, unable to find the words to respond.

Mum wanders up behind me and squeezes me by the shoulders, planting a wet kiss on my cheek. ‘So proud of you.’ Then she turns to Dad and places her hand on his back as naturally as she’s ever done. ‘Could you ever imagine that we could make two humans that are so brilliant, eh?’

‘You guys don’t have to pretend that everything is okay, you know,’ I mutter. ‘I’m not a kid any more.’