Being with her meant I ate much more healthily than I hadafter her death when I’d really let myself go. My skin looked better, myhangovers were gone, and so were all the niggling aches and pains. My clotheshad gone from XL to L to M and I felt good in them.
It wasn’t all down to healthier living. Many of the changeswere down to the physical properties of my ever younger body. The greycontinued to disappear from my hair. It had almost completely covered the baldpatch by now, leaving me with a full head of thick, black hair.
My teeth were much improved, as was my eyesight. By the timeof my 46th birthday in 2016, I was able to begin managing without myglasses. Which was just as well, really, as soon after that, they vanished.
My social life also took off after Sarah’s return. Suddenlywe were attending weddings and parties, and meeting other friends at weekends.Sarah was a very active person and for every evening we sat contentedly at homewatching TV together, there would be another when she was out at a class or atthe gym.
I, too, discovered that I had a sporting side when I beganplaying squash with Nick on Thursday evenings, a sport at which I waspleasantly surprised to discover I excelled.
I was still crap at golf, though. In addition to the annualcharity do, I was also part of a society that went out four times a year.Whatever course we attended, it was the same woeful display, and the club shopsmust have done pretty well out of me when they went to dredge the lakes forballs.
I quite enjoyed the days out with the golf society, and wasglad I hadn’t kept to my resolution to avoid golf at all costs.
Another enjoyable addition to my married life was the takingof holidays. My trips abroad to date had consistently entirely of businesstravel. It seemed I hadn’t bothered with holidays in my widower years, so I waspleased to discover that I had plenty of holidays to look forward to.
The excitement tended to build backwards as the holidayapproached, and I usually got a good idea of what to expect from the hundredsof pictures Sarah always insisted on loading up to Facebook.
The only downside of holidays was the travelling. Going homeon the last day wasn’t so bad, as I’d still have the holiday to look forwardto, but the first day of the holiday was always a real chore. It seemedpointless going through all the hassle of flying out to somewhere when I knewI’d only end up back home the next day.
But I’d resolved to try and live as normally as possible,which included not letting on to Sarah about my trek back through time, so Ijust went along with it. It was less hassle to go through with the journey thanhaving to come up with explanations as to why I wasn’t going, not to mentiondisappointing Sarah and Stacey.
Most people checked the weather forecast to see what theweather was going to be like on holiday, whereas I just looked up paststatistics. They were much more accurate than weather forecasts. I also got agood idea of how much sun I was going to get just by looking at my skin.
In the run-up to two weeks in Crete in August 2017 I turneda rich shade of golden brown, so the weather must have been good. When I awokethere on the first morning, I wasn’t disappointed. Flinging open the shutterson the windows of our villa, I was greeted with the gorgeous sight of the sun’srays shining down upon a sparkling blue Aegean sea.
Such was the laid-back lifestyle of those two blissful weeksin that sleepy part of the Western Crete coast that I was able to forget aboutmy backwards spiral through time and just enjoy the days as they came.
We mixed lazy days at the beach with sightseeing, and in theevening spent long hours in tavernas, eating and drinking. One day was much likeanother, and I relished being able to spend my days with Sarah, just the two ofus in the most idyllic place I had ever been.
Apparently this was the first holiday that we’d had withoutStacey since she had been born. She was eighteen now, and had decided to go ona girls’ holiday to Majorca with two of her school friends, Sophie and Amelia,to celebrate finishing their A Levels.
It was during that holiday in Crete that I became furtheraware of the dark clouds hanging over Stacey’s past. One night when we were ina taverna, Sarah expressed concern about her being out in Majorca with herfriends at such a tender age.
“I do wonder if we did the right thing, letting her go outthere,” said Sarah.
“We have to cut the apron strings eventually,” I replied.“She’s eighteen now, she has to be allowed to spread her wings.” I was able tospeak with some confidence, having seen the well-rounded, mature person thatStacey had become in her twenties.
“I know,” replied Sarah. “But I can’t bear the thought thatsomething might happen to her again like before. After all we’ve been throughover the last couple of years with her, something like that could completelydestroy her.”
I knew that no harm had come to Stacey in Majorca, so Icould try and reassure Sarah on that score, but what had happened before? Howcould I ask? Or should I bide my time and wait for it to come out.
“I’m sure she will be fine,” I said. “You said yourself thatthe girls had promised to stick together.”
“I think I’ll ring her, just to make sure,” replied Sarah,reaching into her bag for her mobile.
All was well with the phone call and I decided not to pursuethe matter further. If this was the only holiday Sarah and I were to havealone, I didn’t want to spoil even one day by discussing less happy times. Iwould find out what I needed to in the fullness of time.
March 2016
It
