Scarlett - Cathy Cassidy [56]
Kian makes a weird, gasping sound and covers his face. I can see his shoulders trembling slightly. I reach out to touch his hair, his face.
‘I’m sorry, Kian,’ I whisper. ‘I didn’t know.’
He pulls me close and we hold each other gently, cheeks touching, arms wrapped softly round each other as though we’re each holding something very fragile, very special. I want to stay like that forever, feeling Kian’s warm breath against my neck, the slight jut of his cheekbone against mine, a strand of his black hair blown across my lips by the soft breeze.
Then he sniffs and smiles and wipes his eyes on his sleeve, and we move apart awkwardly, still holding hands. Kian lets his head fall back against the hazel tree.
‘Dad couldn’t face travelling for a while,’ he tells me. ‘We went to Dublin, parked up on a permanent site. I went to school. It was bad – I didn’t fit in and I couldn’t get over Mum. I truanted a lot, and as soon as the warm weather started, I took Midnight and headed out here. I needed to be on my own, think things through. I needed to be here. I guess they’ve been looking for me ever since.’
I shut my eyes, guilt-stricken. ‘I told them I’d never seen you,’ I say, remembering. ‘I sent them away.’
Kian shrugs. ‘They didn’t go far – there’s a place we used to like, on the coast to the south, right by the ocean. I rode out yesterday morning and found them there. We did some talking, sorted some stuff out. I think it’s going to be OK.’
‘I’m glad,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry I got angry, Kian. I thought I’d never see you again.’
‘You were always going to see me again.’ He grins. ‘I had a promise to keep, didn’t I?’
Neither of us point out that it was a promise to say goodbye.
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, yesterday,’ he says. ‘Do you think she’ll be OK? Clare’s baby?’
‘I think she will,’ I whisper. ‘I hope so, anyway. They’re doing all they can to help her.’
Kian’s fingers stroke away tears, play with my hair. I can feel his soft breath on my cheek.
‘Know what?’ he says. ‘I’m going to miss you. The first day I rode into Kilimoor, looking for supplies, the village was going crazy about some mad English girl who’d marched out of school and made for the hills. When we met up, later, right by the wishing tree, it seemed like it was meant to happen. I’ve had the best summer, Scarlett. I thought it’d be the worst, but you made it into the best, OK? I’ll never forget that.’
It feels like a dream is falling to pieces right in front of me. My eyes are gritty with tears, showing me a world that’s blurred and hazy.
‘You’re going back to your family aren’t you?’ I ask.
‘I have to, Scarlett,’ he says. ‘It’s where I belong. I’ve felt like I was on my own for a long time now, but I’m not – none of us are. Families are never perfect, Scarlett, but you have to hold on to them. They’re a part of you.’
I think of Mum, striding through the hospital corridors last night, brisk, efficient, taking charge. I had never been so happy to see anybody in my whole life.
‘Maybe you’re right,’ I tell him.
‘Hey,’ he laughs. ‘I’m always right, OK?’
He kisses me then, his lips soft and gentle and salty with tears, and I know he’s saying goodbye.
‘We’ll meet again,’ Kian says. ‘I promise.’
I put a finger to his lips. ‘Shhh,’ I warn him. ‘You’re not so good at promises, remember.’
‘Ah, you’ll see,’ he says. He takes a braided black bracelet off his wrist and ties it gently round mine, letting the ends dangle. ‘Just don’t forget me, that’s all.’
He gets to his feet and just when I think he’s going to walk away he turns and reaches up to the hazel tree, grabbing on to a branch.
‘Any of those wishes for me?’ he asks.
‘Maybe one or two.’
He unties one of the scarlet rags and rakes a hand through his untidy hair before using the rag to tie it back. Then he whistles for Midnight and takes him by the bridle, and the two of them walk away slowly along