She took my face in my hands, and I smelled paint and felt it, too. And when I pushed inside her she took the deepest breath and didn’t exhale until my forehead was pressed to hers.
“This is everything,” she breathed. “I’m home. This is where I want to be… forever. Don’t ever make me leave…”
I shook my head, and took her hand and placed it back on her wet handprint. “This is home, Helen. It’s anywhere. Everywhere.”
And she understood, and she nodded, and her eyes turned glassy with tears.
I rolled us over, until she was on top, and I held her hands as she moved for me. She took her time, rocking so slowly that it was nothing but blissful torture, and I didn’t rush her.
She came slowly and deeply, in waves that made her shudder and gasp, and it was perfect.
It was the most perfect moment.
And then she did it again.
I think she’d have done it all night long, if we hadn’t smelt burning waffles.
***
Helen
The best night’s sleep I’d ever had. Out like a light, without a care in the world. Safe and warm and loved in a way that made me whole.
And then I was turfed out in the nicest possible way on Lizzie’s doorstep at eight in the morning.
She raised her eyebrows, but she smiled, and linked her arm in mine like old times as we walked the long route to school.
Somehow I knew we’d made it, both of us.
That something inside her had lightened, and there was only Lizzie. I stopped in the alleyway out of habit, but she shrugged and pulled me on.
“No cigarette?”
She shook her head. “Nah, think I’ll quit. I won’t be able to afford cigarettes at uni, anyway.”
I broached the subject I’d been hinting at for days. “Will you be ok? If I don’t come, too, I mean?”
She shrugged, but she smiled. “I guess I’ll survive, Hels Bells. Besties forever, right? Even if we’re not in the same place.”
I smiled in memory of my hand on Mark’s skin, and placed my hand on her heart over her blazer. “This is us,” I said. “No matter where we are. We’re always here.”
She welled up, and sniffed, and slapped my arm. “Made me cry, idiot.” She laughed. “You’re such a bloody sap these days, Helen Palmer.”
Mum dropped my suitcase off after dinner, and she even stayed for a coffee and a look around. She looked at all my pictures, and I showed her the sculpture on the mantel and she said it was wonderful. She wouldn’t say anything about Dad, though.
“Early days,” she said, and that was all.
She said that every day for a week, but on the second week I heard voices outside after her car engine stopped rumbling.
Mark stood from the table and took my hand, and I knew he’d heard it, too.
“This is bloody stupid, Angela. Stupid.”
“Be nice, George, I bloody mean it!”
“I don’t know if I want to be bloody nice, Angela.”
And then a little voice, a voice that made me smile. “Is this where Helen lives now, Mum?”
“For the minute, love, yes. Just until your dad stops being such an ogre.”
“Piss off, Angela. This isn’t a laughing bloody matter.”
I smiled as I heard the snark in Mum’s voice, just the other side of the door. “George Palmer, you’d better be on your best behaviour, or so help me God, I’m going to move in here as well.”
Mark took a breath as the knock sounded and I squeezed his hand. “Go upstairs if you want, just until I know he’s not going to be a jerk,” I said, but he shook his head.
And then he opened the door.
And we faced it together.
Just like it should be.
***
Helen
I wanted to stay for Mark, and he wanted to leave for me.
Since neither of us would compromise he put in his notice the very next week, on exactly the same day I cancelled my university place.
We both huffed and argued the toss, and said our way was better.
And then we stopped huffing and dreamed instead.
We dreamed such beautiful dreams, and it seemed Mark hadn’t forgotten how after all.
The doorbell tinkled, one of those awesome old-fashioned bell ones that sits above the doorframe. I smiled every time it sounded.
“Hey, kids…” Lizzie’s voice was a happy cackle. “I come bearing sugar-loaded gifts!”
I put my brush down, and she held open the box as I approached. “Donuts.” I grinned. “Mark! Lizzie’s brought us donuts again!”
I heard his feet on the stairs, and the thump, thump, thump made my stomach flutter. He smiled so brightly, just like he always smiled at Lizzie.
“Elizabeth Thomas, you’re on a one-woman mission to fatten me up, I swear.”
But he wasn’t fattening up. He was glowing here. The sea air really suited him, and even the hustle and bustle of Aberystwyth’s main seaside drag suited him. The air made his hair more curly though, and made it grow, too. It was longer these days, past his collar, and greyer, but only a little.