Page 65 of Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye
She nodded through her tears. “Four people died—the bus driver, two coaches, our friend Clara. It was awful. No one walked away unscathed.”
“Your scars…?”
“Yeah. I had deep cuts, a chipped tooth, a concussion, a ruptured spleen. My right shin bone was sticking out of my leg.”
Tarquin winced. “Jesus.”
“But compared to Sarah”—a sob stuck in Leia’s throat—“Sarah suffered a bunch of puncture wounds, a concussion, a crushed kidney, a broken collarbone. Then, they told us she had shattered vertebrae in her back. She’d never walk again, let alone skate.”
Tarquin looked sick. “What you both went through…at such a young age. I’m so, so sorry.”
There’s so much kindness and empathy in his eyes. He’s not just saying these things. He really means them. “Thanks. It was brutal at first. Sarah was in constant agony. You’d think being paralyzed from the waist down would mean she’d be pain-free, but that’s not how all spinal cord injuries work. It’s like the brain and nerves can’t communicate properly. It sets off all sorts of awful sensations—burning, tingling, spasms. Her moods were all over the place, too.”
Tarquin nodded.
“She was angry, depressed…to be nine years old and in hospital for months, unable to finish the school year or play with friends… She had just started to feel some independence as a little kid and it was all snatched away.” She wiped tears from her cheeks. “Jeez, look at me. It’s been fifteen years, but it’s amazing how it all comes flooding back. The scars fade, but…” She sniffed.
“That horror stays with you, right?”
Leia looked down and found Tarquin’s hand entwined with hers. “We both had nightmares, for a long time. I was scared to leave the house for a while. I wouldn’t get on a bus if you paid me, even with Mom by my side. The thought alone made me nauseous.” Just like when lights go out suddenly. I still freak out in the dark.
“Our therapist diagnosed both of us with PTSD. It took years, but we worked through it—mostly.” Leia swept her hair off her forehead. “It’s strange what sticks. Sarah still won’t touch burgers, and we’re both nervous if we see big trucks coming toward us on the road. But we moved on and learned to live with our new normal. I plan more now, worry more. When I’m somewhere new, I always check where the emergency exits are. And I cut to the chase—ask for exactly what I want. I hate being a passenger. I need to be in control…in case you haven’t noticed.”
Leia raised her eyes to Tarquin’s, half-expecting him to jump in with a light retort, but he didn’t. No Spice Girls or Star Wars jokes. No sexualizing my ‘in control’ comment. His respect and empathy warmed her heart. He’s all about fun and risk-taking but can be so caring and sensitive when it matters, too.
“Well, given everything you’ve been through, that’s totally understandable.” He gave her a kind smile, raised their clasped hands to his lips, and planted a barely-there kiss on her knuckles.
Leia almost gasped at his simple gesture of kindness. Oh, god, no! Please don’t be so great, Tarquin. I can’t fall for you—it’ll end up hurting us both so badly. Let’s pretend that never happened…
She cleared her throat suddenly as their hands returned to the sofa. “Oh, one really weird thing? Sarah came away with a love for blue clothes.”
“Blue clothes?”
“Yeah! She wears blue all the time!” Leia let go of his hand. “She had blue on the day of the accident and decided a month later it was her lucky color.”
“But…she almost died?”
“It’s lucky because she lived.”
Tarquin nodded slowly, Leia’s explanation rousing a soft smile. “Right. Of course.”
“Growing up, Sarah always said, ‘Olympics first, then medical school.’ She hoped to become a doctor, but months in hospital put her off that idea. So, she decided to make a difference another way, and nothing, not even losing the ability to walk, was gonna hold her back.”
“Wow! Pretty ballsy nine-year-old kid.”
“Tell me about it. Even now, if anyone uses the words ‘wheelchair-bound’ or ‘confined to a wheelchair’ in her presence, she schools them without mercy. She’s never felt stuck or restricted—her chair makes it possible for her to explore and live her life—but some people don’t see it like that, for some strange reason. Anyway, she doesn’t let their small-minded, ableist bullshit hold her back or change how she feels about herself. She’s absolutely killing it at work, has an awesome boyfriend, plays in a wheelchair basketball club, does marathons twice a year—”
“The London marathon?”
“Yep. Maybe you’ll see her at the finish line this year.” Leia smiled wistfully. “She loves being active. When Dad was here, he tried to get her to go skating with him at the Tower of London. It’s accessible, but she wasn’t ready. Maybe next Christmas.” Her heart leapt into her throat. “Ah, I’m going to miss her. I can’t believe it’s time to go. This trip flew by.” Two more days and then we’re back to talking on the phone, messaging, Skyping. It’s not the same as being here. Her fingers toyed with the gold band on her right hand, their mother’s wedding ring. “It’s been great bingeing pizza, sharing the excitement of her job promotion, celebrating my birthday—all things we can’t do with an ocean between us.”
“When was your birthday?”
“Christmas Day.”
Tarquin’s eyes lit up. “Someone got cheated!”
“Yeah, but Saz always makes it special.”
