The university park stumbled down to the sea, imitating the crazy lurching of the terraced houses on the same giddy hill. Sam scuffed about the paths round the flower beds, vaguely aware of daffodils in bloom.
He had a sharp, stabbing pain at the side of his stomach that wouldn’t go away. He was utterly miserable. Three years he’d stayed away from the town, but as soon as he’d entered the park – following the route he and Nicola had often walked – the sense of oppression had just welled up from within him. Memories from the past pushed up a bit like bulbs in the soil.
When he got back to Carol’s flat – she’d been friends with Nicola back then – he told her what had happened. The place where the two of them had chatted, held hands, looked at each other, smiled – that place seemed to remember him, seemed immediately to pin the past on his lapel like a flower, and insist that its smell, its colours permeate his heart. It was upsetting and worse than he’d anticipated.
‘It’s three years, Sam.’
Did Carol mean ‘only’ three years? Or was she suggesting after all this time, he should forget about Nicola?
‘I know it’s three years. And I know she’s married now – to that fool Staveley. An academic! She was always impressed by that sort of status baloney. Parked me for an academic. What on earth did she see in him?’
‘Didn’t you hear about the suicide?’
‘Nicola…? Has she killed herself!’
‘New Year’s Day. He made a resolution, took his life. It was on the front page of the local paper.’
‘He? Staveley…? Why?’
‘She told him she loved a man from her past, and always would. He left a note about it. “Broken-hearted lecturer’s suicide”, the paper said.’
‘Did you say a man from the past…? Me? Does she still love me? My intuition was right then, Carol! I had this gut feeling I should return!’
‘Somebody before you. Name of Davies.’
‘Jamie Davies? She had this teenage romance with him, from sixteen to nineteen. Then he dropped her. It only lasted three years.’
‘Her marriage was shorter. Your relationship with her was shorter.’
‘She never said much about Davies. I assumed she’d got over him when we were together. She was older and seemed happy with me. Surely she can’t still be looking back to an adolescent affair?’
‘I’m really sorry you’re still hurting. Staveley was obviously hurting. And, dare I say it, Nicola is too.’
‘Funny eh? The only one not hurting must be Davies. Three of us collateral damage. Do you know, I sort of admire Staveley. Not because he had the courage to end his pain, no. Because his love was so…’
‘Deep?’
‘Still missing Davies? How extraordinary. Perhaps I won’t return to this town.’
‘If you don’t, I’ll understand. You’ll have moved on.’
‘The daffodils are out. Gorgeous. Have you seen them, Carol? Nature renewing. And just as beautiful elsewhere, I expect.’
