Return To Bluebell Hill. Rebecca Pugh
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she looked normal, and completely unaffected by the news of her parents’ death. For the millionth time, she questioned whether she was emotionless. She’d thought about it a lot lately, about how it didn’t seem normal for her to be reacting in this way. Most people would have been racked with guilt, sore-eyed from the crying and frail from grief taking over the need for food. There was definitely a thump of sadness when she thought clearly about them and that they were no longer present but then, she’d never felt like they’d been present when they’d been alive anyway, so what was the difference now? She was sure, too, that the sadness only made itself known because of the fact that now there really would be no second chances, no opportunities to make things right. It was the same sort of feeling a person would get when trying to fall asleep after having a bad argument with someone that they cared about, that niggling feeling that burrowed away because you knew that you wouldn’t get a wink of sleep until things were sorted out and back to normal. But things had never been normal, so really, this situation had no other state to return to.
Her childhood had been spent under the watchful, adoring eye of Esme who had been employed by her parents as Jessica’s nanny. Miriam and Arthur McAdams had worked non-stop, leaving Jessica in the care of Esme day in, day out. They had important, busy jobs, on-call 24/7, called upon to deal with emergencies. She’d rarely set eyes on them, even when, at the age of five, she’d sat at the top of the staircase and waited for them to walk through the door. She’d refused to go to bed when prompted by Esme. In the end, unable to keep her eyes open a second longer, she’d fallen asleep with her forehead against the wooden banister. Esme had had to scoop her up and tuck her into her bed.
‘Jessica? Are you awake, dear?’ A gentle knock sounded at the door. Jessica stepped rapidly away from the mirror as Esme’s voice filtered into her consciousness.
‘Yes, I’m just getting dressed,’ she called back, trying to keep her voice level, blinking around the room, trying to remember what exactly she’d been doing before becoming fixated by her reflection in the mirror. ‘I’ll be down in just a sec.’ She took one last look at herself and stared hard at the face that looked back at her. After her self-evaluation, she turned away sharply. Stuffing her things into her bag, she left the room and headed downstairs.
***
They left Esme’s cottage in silence and made tracks towards Bluebell Hill church. It was only a short walk to their destination but it felt like it lasted a lifetime. They passed the village square and the school which Jessica had attended when she’d been little. The sound of children laughing and squealing filtered through the green fence. They walked by the post-office and a handful of people who Esme acknowledged with a polite smile or a quick ‘Hello’ until eventually, they arrived at the wrought-iron gates of the church.
Headstones of the deceased were visible around the side of the building, and a cluster of suitably-attired people surrounded the open doors chatting quietly amongst themselves. It was enough to make Jessica’s legs wobble.
She paused before stepping onto the cream stone path which led up to the church doors. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to take that step over the threshold. She knew that once she did, the circumstances surrounding her parents would suddenly become real, harsh and unable to hide away from. She’d been ignoring the reality steadfastly since hearing of it but today, that would change. For good. And there wasn’t a single thing that she could do about it. She gulped as she blinked at the church, imagining the two coffins inside, the vicar, the people, the tears and the emotions. Was she strong enough to do this? She went to reach for her phone to call Sarah. She needed some of her best friend’s support now more than ever.
‘Jessica? Do you want to take a few minutes first?’ Esme’s small hand squeezed her arm gently.
She nodded, grateful for Esme’s never-ending support. ‘Yes. Yes, please. Can we? I just need a little extra time, that’s all. Just a few minutes.’ She was rambling as Esme led her away from the entrance, working herself up into even more of state. How was this real? Why was it happening? Was it to teach her a lesson for running away and not coming back to Bluebell Hill when they’d still been alive? But what would have become of her if she’d stayed? A million thoughts went around and around in her mind as she stared, unseeing, ahead of herself.
‘Jessica, listen to me.’ Esme turned Jessica to face her and placed her hands on her shoulders. ‘You will get through this, okay? I’ll be right beside you every step of the way. I promise. We’ll do this together. If you want to cry, you cry. I know you’re confused about how to feel, but don’t be. Whatever emotion comes to you when we’re in there, just let it out. Don’t try to fight it, don’t question it. Just let it happen.’
Jessica took a few deep, calming breaths and nodded. ‘You’re right.’ She looked into Esme’s eyes and knew she’d make it through anything if she had Esme beside her. ‘What time do we need to be in there?’
‘Eleven.’ Esme checked the time on her watch. ‘We still have a few minutes so we’ll stay here until you feel calm enough, okay? No rushing into this. You take your time. That’s all you can do.’
‘Okay.’
They remained there for a couple of minutes until Esme’s head lifted. ‘Oh, Rueben’s here.’
‘Who’s here?’ Jessica glanced up from the ground and saw Esme moving off towards someone. She turned slightly to see who it was. Her mouth dropped open in surprise when she spotted the familiar face.
Their paths had crossed again, although not in the best circumstances, she had to admit. She watched him taking long strides up the path towards the church, dressed in a sharp black suit, bright white shirt and black tie beneath the tailored jacket. His hands were tucked neatly away in his trouser pockets. Jessica turned quickly, annoyed that this was the place where they were to meet again. She could hear chatter coming from behind her and realised that she probably looked ridiculous standing there with her back turned to them. She turned around and attempted a weak smile their way.
‘Rueben, come and meet Jessica,’ Esme said, dragging one of his suited arms in her direction. ‘This is Jessica, Mr and Mrs McAdams’ daughter.’ She pushed Rueben forward, a little forcefully, Jessica noticed. They came face to face.
It appeared that Rueben hadn’t yet realised who she was and was smiling easily at Esme’s insistence until he was directly in front of her and the easy smile slipped from his face, leaving in its place a confused frown. ‘Mr and Mrs McAdam’s daughter?’ he asked. His green eyes darted about her face quickly as if trying to make sense of it all. ‘Jessica McAdams?’ And then, just like that, Jessica saw the exact moment of realisation. His features all seemed to shift at the same time. He glanced towards the church, back at her, and then pulled an apologetic face. Anyone with half a brain would have been able to put two and two together.
Jessica shoved a hand towards him to give herself a reason to break eye contact. Perhaps she could pretend that the whole Cornwall thing hadn’t happened? ‘Yes, Jessica McAdams.’
He glanced at her waiting hand but returned his gaze to her face curiously. Finally, he took her hand with his own. It was huge compared to hers. Warm, too. ‘A pleasure to meet you, Jessica. I’m Rueben. Rueben Greer.’ They shook in a very business-like way before he turned his attention back to Esme. Jessica looked down at her hand, the warmth of his palm still present on her skin.
‘We’d better get inside. The service will be starting soon.’ He cast a wary glance at Jessica. ‘I’m sorry for your loss. It must be a really difficult time for you.’
She wasn’t sure if she deserved his sympathies but she smiled gratefully at him anyway. ‘Thank you.’
They continued to watch each other curiously until Esme linked her arm with Jessica’s. ‘Are you ready, dear?’
They crunched up the stony path towards the church. Jessica ignored her surroundings, the headstones, the sorrowful faces as they reached the church doors, people sniffing into handkerchiefs as they headed inside. She searched for Esme’s hand as they found a suitable place to be seated in the church. As the service