Prologue
The girl sat alone on the black stone mound, her eyes on the horizon as the brisk night wind washed in from the shore and whipped her hair back from her face. It was August twenty-eighth – her birthday – and she was waiting for one last miracle before the summer ended.
They’d agreed eleven, but it was closer to midnight. Foolish though it might have been, she was determined to wait. All day they’d been apart while his family enjoyed one last trip to the nearby island and packed up their things, ready for the journey home the next morning. Sneaking away from them would be difficult, she knew, but there was no one she’d rather spend her birthday with than him.
Every year, since they’d been born, they’d met on that beach on her birthday. Sure, she hadn’t known it when she was a baby, but whenever she looked back through the photo albums, she could see his mother in the background with her own little boy, the children oblivious to the fact that they would continue to meet until they became firm friends.
This year would mark their eighteenth summer together.
At last, she was eighteen.
At last, she could show him how much she loved him.
‘Hey!’ a figure called as he ran across the beach. The tide had taken possession of most of the sand, but their meeting spot was secluded and dry as always.
The girl stood atop the rock and replied, ‘You’re late!’
‘Sorry!’ he slowed to a jog, a walk, and then came to a halt in front of the rock. The boy placed his hands on his knees and doubled over, trying to catch his breath. His long brown hair covered his face and, as usual, he was in his trademark board-shorts and t-shirt. Composure regained, the boy explained, ‘Mum just wouldn’t stop making us go over the checklists. Seriously.’
‘The woman loves a list,’ the girl laughed.
His parents had always treated her like their own, inviting her to their picnics and to hang out at the beach. The girl had never doubted the boy’s affection for her, and it helped that his parents had always approved. She was too young to know that not everyone enjoyed the acceptance of their potential future in-laws, and to have that at eighteen was both a blessing and a miracle.
‘But,’ he said and held out a small paper bag to her, ‘I got you something today.’
The girl leapt down deftly into the soft sand, loving the feeling of the grains squashing up through her toes. The moonlight kissed her blonde hair, cascading silver over the light strands, giving her an ethereal aura on their final night. Carefully, the boy placed the bag into her waiting hand, and she opened it without hesitation or ceremony. Inside, she found a leather cord decorated with white carved beads which framed the glass heart pendant hanging in the centre.
‘I know,’ he said, his hand reaching around to rub the back of his neck bashfully. ‘It’s a gift shop find. I totally panicked.’
‘I love it,’ she said in earnest. ‘Thank you.’
‘Happy birthday,’ he congratulated her.
‘Can I ask for something else?’ she teased. ‘A kiss?’
The boy rubbed the back of his neck. It was hardly the first time she’d asked, and certainly not the first time they’d kissed one another, but he wanted to draw out the moment. After all, it was an important day. They only had these last few hours with one another, and the boy had to hope the woman would keep him in her heart until they were reunited.
‘I don’t know. Two presents are kind of greedy.’
‘I can give back the necklace…’
The boy leaned in and pecked her cheek. ‘How’s that?’
‘Bad,’ she laughed and slapped her hand against his shoulder. ‘What sort of boyfriend are you?’
‘The sort that’s two years older,’ he joked. The boy reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. ‘The sort of boyfriend who doesn’t want to break you.’
Their age difference hadn’t meant much when they were children, but for the past couple of years, he’d been far more aware of it. Two years was nothing, anymore. They were both over eighteen and, in England, that made them adults in every way that mattered. Once the boy had passed eighteen two years prior, he’d exercised caution in the way that he’d treated her. Their enduring friendship and relationship didn’t matter. What mattered was treating her with the utmost respect. Not only for the sake of their morals, but in the eyes of the law.
After all, he loved her.
‘What, am I made of glass now?’ the girl asked. She fastened the necklace without his help and climbed back up onto the rock. With her arms spread wide, she challenged, ‘Do I look breakable to you?’
‘No!’ he smiled. ‘No… You look beautiful.’
Again, she jumped down to him and found that he was more than willing to bring her into his arms. The girl cuddled close, revelling in the warmth of the boy, hoping to remember the embrace until their next summer meeting.
‘Will you email me when you’re in university?’ Her voice was etched with worry. So many beautiful, mature girls who would be closer to his age would share those lectures and halls with him, while she stayed at the beach, always the same, never changing, waiting for him to come back to her.
‘Every day. Even if it’s just a cat picture.’
‘I like the cat picture emails.’
‘I won’t forget you,’ he vowed. ’No matter what happens, I’ll come back here for you every single summer for the rest of my life.’Beautiful though the sentiment might have been, she still wondered if such a promise could be kept. It felt fragile and precious, and the girl feared that it might catch on the sea breeze and be carried away from them, flung across the ocean where such promises were lost and forgotten by the lovers who made them, just as she would be forgotten by him.
‘Can I give you a gift?’ she asked. ‘To remember me by until next summer.’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘What is it?’
‘Me.’
There, on a cold beach at midnight, the eighteenth summer ended with a declaration of love, and a hope that it would never be forgotten; not by the boy, nor the girl, nor the stars or the moon who bore witness to the two hearts which, for one moment, beat so close and so in time that neither he nor she knew which heart belonged to who.
And in that moment, the world was perfect.
And then…
And then…
And then, the moment passed.
