Wild Blue Yonder (The Ceruleans: Book 3) (25 page)

I found Jude standing on the balcony, leaning on the glass
balustrade and gazing out toward the town. He turned as I approached. His eyes
were red-rimmed, his shoulders hunched, but he’d at least showered and dressed,
which was more than I’d managed – I had bed-head and was wearing baggy Snoopy
pyjamas. But I wasn’t self-conscious. Not with Jude.

Straight away, because I felt the urgency of time passing,
because my heart was pounding with a strange mix of fear and hope, I said, ‘We
need to talk.’

I gestured to the wooden seats set a little way along the balcony,
positioned to take in the view, and we walked over and sat down side by side.
I’d never seen him look so lost. It would have to be me who took control. It
was about time I did.

‘This is what’s going to happen, Jude. We’re going to talk.
And we’re going to cut the crap – the tiptoeing around, the evasion, the
half-truths. We’re going to lay it all out there, and then we’re going to move
forward with our lives.’

He nodded silently.

I plunged straight in: ‘We kissed the other night on the
beach.’

He blinked once, twice, and then said, ‘I know. I remember.’

He did remember. So he wasn’t the only one who’d been torn
up inside yesterday trying to process that.

I took a deep breath and said, ‘I felt nothing, Jude.’

‘Nothing?’

‘Nothing.’

His eyes were full of pain. I hoped I’d understood
correctly. I hoped what I was about to say wasn’t going to be a knife thrust
into his heart, but instead a weight lifted from his shoulders.

‘I love you, Jude. I do. But not like that. Kissing you was
like kissing a friend. Kissing you was like kissing someone whose heart is
someplace else.’

His mouth fell open into a little O.

‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ I said gently. ‘It’s not me. It was
never me. All this time, all this time, Jude, since that very first day we met
in the graveyard, you never felt that way about me. It’s
her
. It’s
always been her. You’re in love with my sister.’

I saw his jaw clench tight as he struggled to keep a grip on
his emotions. He didn’t answer; he reached into the pocket of his zippie,
pulled out a sheet of paper, folded over several times, and handed it to me.
When I unfolded the paper I saw it was ragged along one edge where it had been
torn from a spiral-bound book. As soon as I saw the handwriting I knew what
this was, what he’d done.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘But there were so many entries in her
diary that were private. Between us. I won’t show you them all. But this one –
you can read it now.’

I thought I had finished reading Sienna’s diary months ago.
I thought then I’d known the full story. I’d known very little, though, I saw
now.

I love him,
I read.
For getting me away from
Twycombe for a while. For bringing me, to the apartment, to Newquay. For
walking with me along the beach for all those hours in silence. I love him for
sitting and watching the sun set with me and letting me cry without trying to
make me explain what the pain is, without trying to fix it, fix me. I will
always remember him, Jude, in this place. Our place.

I looked up. ‘You were here? Together?’

He smiled sadly. ‘To Travel to a place, you have to have
been there, remember? That’s how I was able to bring us here from Twycombe. And
that’s how Sienna was able to bring us home from the beach the other night.’

‘Oh,’ I said. I should have realised.

‘When we were here together, she’d just spoken to Gabriel
and Daniel for the first time, but I didn’t know that then. All I knew was that
she was upset, not herself at all. So I brought her here. And… and we were
close.

‘I loved her, Scarlett. And she loved me. It’s right there,
in her own words. Do you see now why I couldn’t give up on her? She loved
me
,
she was going to be with me after…’

I said nothing, did nothing. I just listened as everything
he’d been holding in for so long came tumbling out.

‘But then Daniel got to her. And she chose him. All this
time, I thought it was because of you – I thought she’d been self-sacrificing,
noble. I wanted to save her. I looked all over. For so long. I wanted to bring
her back, so we could be together. We were meant to be together.

‘You know, it was
her
I was paired with –
her
I was meant to Claim. But when I lost her, Evangeline told me to bring you
over; that we mustn’t lose you too. Like two sisters are interchangeable, and I
could transfer everything I felt to you. I mean, you know that I care for you.
But as you say – like a friend. Sometimes I’ve wished I could love you. Because
that would have been so much easier. But it was always her.

‘You know, when I saw her yesterday standing in that
alleyway, before you came out of the club, there was a moment when I thought
everything was going to be okay. The way she looked at me – it was how she
looked at me when we were here, right here, together. But then… then she did
that
.’

It was time to break his monologue: as he talked, I’d been
thinking, and it had ignited a tiny flame of hope.

‘Jude, what you said – that it must have been Sienna who
brought us home and left the VIP pass. Then she was on the beach that night.
Maybe she saw us kissing! She said something last night about our having a nice
little happy-ever-after, you and me. She thinks we’re together. She’s hurt,
jealous. Maybe she did what she did because –’

But Jude was shaking his head. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said.
‘The reason she did it doesn’t matter to me. She did it. Knowingly. Willingly.
With pleasure, it seemed to me. There’s no coming back from that. She’s
damned.’

His voice cracked on that last word,
damned
, and the
little flame inside me blew out.

‘She looked at me, Scarlett. She looked at me right as she
was doing it. She knows what I believe. She knows I could never condone taking
a life. She knew by killing that man she was killing any chance that we could be
together again. She looked at me, knowing that I was desperate for her not to
do it, for her to come back to me. And she did it.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ I whispered.

We were silent for a while, lost in our own thoughts. Then
Jude turned to me and said, ‘You’re not coming back to the island, are you?’

I shook my head.

‘Did you ever want to stay, to make it work there?’

‘Sometimes I wished it was in me to stay. But it’s just not.
Every second since I awoke on that island, I’ve known I could never be one of
you. I’m sorry, Jude. I can’t do it. Maybe I’m selfish. But I can’t live a lie.
I can’t go back with you, and commit to you, and be a meek sheep who does as
she’s told. I can’t sit in the shadows. That’s not me. Not any more. I won’t
live out my days with a guy I don’t love and who doesn’t love me. I won’t have
a baby, and I won’t give up a baby. I won’t sit on an amazing gift that can
help so many people. And I won’t,
I won’t
, abandon the people I care
about.’

I stopped. My hands were fisted, my cheeks were hot, my
breath was coming in little gasps. I hadn’t intended to say so much; some
impassioned part of me had hijacked Steady Scarlett.

Jude took my hands in his and squeezed. His eyes were bright
and wet. ‘I understand,’ he said. ‘I do, Scarlett. And I admire you for having
the courage to make that decision.’

He let me go and wiped his eyes on a sleeve. Then he cleared
his throat and said seriously, ‘So. You’re going back.’

I nodded.

‘You know it will be hard. To be around them. Now you’re a
Cerulean.’

‘Hard. But not impossible.’

‘You’re thinking of what Sienna said last night. You believe
her? You believe that your grandfather was Evangeline’s son?’

‘I do,’ I said. ‘That night I overheard Evangeline talking
to Nathaniel, she mentioned watching me and Sienna play on the beach at
Twycombe with Peter and his wife. Like she knew Peter, my grandfather. Like she
had a reason to watch us play.’

‘She always told me you and Sienna were special cases,’ said
Jude.

‘And I have this memory – it’s hazy, like a dream, but it’s
there. A tattoo on my grandfather’s forearm…’

We both looked down at the word inked on Jude’s arm.
Serviam
.

‘If it’s true,’ I said, ‘then my grandfather was a Cerulean,
and he made a life for himself with a human. I remember them together, Jude, my
grandfather and my grandmother. They were happy. Really happy.’

Jude smiled, a sad sort of smile. Then he said, ‘But if
Peter
was
Evangeline’s son then Evangeline is your great-grandmother.
Don’t you feel… I don’t know. A sense of loyalty to her?’

‘No,’ I said bluntly. ‘Blood means nothing. You have to earn
love and trust.’

‘And once you’ve earned it, you can destroy that trust in a
second. For nothing.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve got some difficult explaining to do to
Evangeline.’

‘She’ll forgive you, Jude. She’ll understand you acted out
of love.’

‘Will she?’

‘Mothers forgive. That’s what they do. So that’s her job, as
the Mother. But not
your
mother, you realise that, right?’

He looked confused.

‘If Evangeline is related to me then she’s not related to
you. She’d never have paired us if we were related. Think about it, if you were
her son, you’d be… what? My grandfather’s brother – my great-uncle. That’s
seriously creepy.’

‘She’s not my mother?’

‘You should ask her. But no, I don’t think so.’

‘Oh.’

Jude thought for a while.

‘Does that make going back any easier?’

‘Yes. I think so. Though now, if she has no real connection
to me, I’m even less confident that she won’t outcast me.’

‘I’m sorry you’re facing that.’

‘Don’t be.’ His grey eyes fixed on mine. ‘I made my choice.
And even if Evangeline was right and Sienna couldn’t be saved, it was the right
choice. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d never tried. And it wasn’t for
nothing – not really. Now at least you’re free to make the choice that’s right
for you.’

‘You know,’ I said, laying a hand on his arm, ‘if she outcasts
you, or if you just want to walk away, there’s a home for you in Twycombe. Si
and Cara and all the surfing lot. And me. You can always stay with me.’

He smiled. ‘I think a certain guy in Twycombe would have a
problem with that.’

I tried to return his smile, but I couldn’t. I stood and
walked to the balustrade.

‘What is it?’ said Jude.

But all my passion and determination had dried up. The
feisty girl who’d declared earlier that she wouldn’t sit in the shadows was
trembling, frightened.

Jude came to stand beside me. ‘The truth, remember,’ he
said. ‘Tell me.’

So I did. I told him how much I wanted to go home, how much
the thought of my grandparents making it work filled me with hope, how much I
loved Luke still, despite all this time apart, despite everything that had come
between us and stood between us yet. I told him how I’d fantasised so many
times about going home – that moment when Luke would see me and know I was
back, back to stay, and he would open his arms, and I would step into them, and
I would never, never let him go again.

‘You love him,’ said Jude simply. ‘He’s your one. So go to
him. Be with him.’

‘I’m scared,’ I said.

‘Of what?’

‘That it’s wrong. For him. Unfair on him to be with me like…
like this. Maybe he won’t even want me like this.’

‘No.’ Jude took my hands and pulled me around so we were face
to face. ‘You listen to me now. It’s not wrong. Going back to him isn’t wrong.
He loves you. Of course he loves you. And you love him. Yes, there are
obstacles to you being together. But you have to try. You
have
to. You
have to fight for the person you love, Scarlett – to be with them. I know that.

‘You may have a light in your hands, but you have one in
your heart too. It doesn’t go out when you Become a Cerulean. So you must be
meant to feel, to love. You deserve love just as much as anyone. You’re allowed
to choose love. I’m telling you to choose it! You have to
fight
. You
have to
try
. You have to go back and tell that guy how you feel. Or
here, in here’ – he banged on his chest – ‘you’ll never live with yourself.’

I started crying then, and so did he, a little. We stood
together, shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the bay. The grey clouds had
blown over and now there was only blue.

‘I can’t promise it’s a happy-ever-after ending, Scarlett,’
said Jude. ‘But it’s an honest ending. The
right
ending for you. So when
you’re ready, dry your eyes and get yourself ready, and then go to him. Go to
Luke.’

I left Jude in Newquay and I Travelled to Twycombe, to the
cliff path overlooking the bay, to where I’d died.

The sun was warm and bright. The birdsong was loud and
happy. The breeze was light and tickly, and it was scented with wildflowers and
seaweed and… paint.

Behind, through the undergrowth, I could see flashes of
wood: my grandfather’s shed. I scrambled over the low fence and waded quickly
through bristly shrubs until I could touch the back wall, and then I followed
it along to the corner and peered around it to see:

Luke.

I didn’t move, I just watched him. He was across the garden,
painting the door to the kitchen, his back to me, his hand moving up and down
in long, slow, mesmerising movements. His white t-shirt was blinding in the
sunlight. His jeans were ripped and covered in paint splashes. His trainers
were as battered and scuffed as always.

A dog barked some distance away – the other side of the
house, I thought. I didn’t want to be caught here, hesitant, hiding.

It was time.

I pulled out the phone Jude had given me in Newquay. Scanned
shakily to ‘music’. Selected the one song in the list.

Closed my eyes.

Whispered a prayer.

Opened my eyes.

Pressed ‘play’.

Stepped out from behind the shed and began walking to him,
to him, to
him
.

The opening phrases of the song were so quiet, I wasn’t sure
he heard them from across the garden. His hand continued moving up and down,
smoothing paint onto the door with infinite care. But then, as I got closer,
ever closer, so close I could see the muscles beneath his t-shirt and the warm
tones in his hair and the little mole on the back of his neck I’d always kissed
– then, as the chorus kicked in, I knew he’d heard it.

He froze mid-stroke in his painting, and I froze too, just
paces behind him on the lawn.

For a long time he just listened to the song, the song we’d
heard on the radio just before The End. ‘Wherever You Will Go.’ A song about
separation. A song about fighting against separation.

I thought he would never turn. I thought the distance
between us would never be gone. But then, in the final verse, I saw his head
jerk at the word ‘stay’. And then he was whirling around and his gaze was
meeting mine, and even with the tears blurring my vision, I saw all the blue I
would ever need.

He took a staggering step towards me, and I matched it with
one of my own. Him. Me. His arms were rising, hands reaching, and I flung my
own arms wide and then… and then…

And then I was home.

‘Scarlett,’ he breathed. ‘Scarlett, Scarlett, Scarlett.’

‘Luke,’ I sobbed.

He held me. I held him. We held each other like shipwrecked
sailors clinging to a life buoy.

I’d have stood there forever. This moment was all that
mattered. But joyous barking heralded the arrival of an old friend, and it was
too late to do anything – eighty pounds of deliriously excited mutt took us
down into a breathless heap on the grass.

Luke’s arms were around me still. Ignoring Chester’s frantic
licks and nuzzles, he pulled me onto his lap.

‘Scarlett,’ he said, his eyes darting around, taking in all
of me; his hands roaming, touching, checking that I was real, I was here.

‘Luke,’ I whispered.

His hands cupped my face, drawing me to him, and his lips
brushed mine, still shaping my name – a prayer, a blessing, a song from the
soul. And then he pressed his lips to mine and kissed me… and kissed me… and
kissed me… and there was no past, there was no future, there was only here, now,
us
.

Heaven: this kiss, this boy, this garden, this cove. This
was earth crammed with heaven.

And I realised then that Jude had been wrong:

This wasn’t an ending at all.

This was a beginning.