Three Sancastles

“You look worn out,” Scott said, stricken by the water dripping from his wife’s face. He would never have called it sweat – not for Ellie.

“What do you expect?” she asked. “We’re in the middle of a heatwave.”

The air was thick and oppressive, the fan failing to stir it. Even the curtains hung limp, too weary to move.

Scott was heading to the fridge for ice cubes when she said the name aloud, as if testing where it might land.

“Johnny.”

Hearing it, Scott reeled. But with time running out, Ellie was reshaping boundaries.

“What are you going to do about him? We can’t keep pretending he doesn’t exist.”

While Scott fiddled with his shoelaces, Ellie checked the weather on her phone.

“It’ll be breezy by the sea,” she said. “That’s good. It’ll cool us down. We can talk there.”

“You want to visit the sea now?” His voice cracked on now. Since her illness, the unexpected had become the norm. With every new test result, every caught breath, the old niceties had long vanished.

“Yes, now! We can hire one of those chairs that roll across sand and pebbles.” No one loved the sea more than Ellie.

“If you’re sure.” He worried the two-hour drive might prove too much, but she was insistent.

“I’ll manage. Bring the high-factor sun cream. My skin is so sensitive these days. I just want one last glimpse.”

*****

As they neared the coast, Ellie rolled down the window, breathed in the tang and thought of Johnny. Scott watched her out of the corner of his eye.

“Shush. Listen. Can you hear them?”

“Hear what, love?”

“The seagulls.”

The next turn revealed the turquoise strip of sea, tantalisingly out of reach.

Once parked, Scott wheeled Ellie along the promenade. Every so often the sun broke from the clouds, lighting up the distant helter-skelter and its bedraggled flag.

Gazing up at the Big Wheel, Scott knew Ellie got a thrill from seeing children enjoying themselves. Not just children – months ago she’d have been riding the Mickey Mouse dipper further down the coast, hair flying, screaming in his ear as the carriage plunged back down.

Scott was determined to savour every moment. Ellie’s eyes were glued now to the little train puttering along the seafront, carriages buffed and horses plodding in blinkers while passengers waved like royalty. Shopfronts bristled with buckets, spades and twirling windmills.

While the breakers lapped the shore in their endless white cycle, Scott gently applied sunscreen to Ellie’s neck and shoulders.

“There’s nothing like the sea to get things into perspective,” she said, breathing deeply.

Scott snapped a picture, trying to trap the moment. The sun was crossing the horizon when she turned to him.

“Do you remember the night we first met?”

How could he not? He’d never seen Johnny like that before.

“Even then, I was watching you over Johnny’s shoulder,” Scott said.

“And I was pretending not to notice.”

Johnny had leaned in to offer her a drink.

“Seeing you’re asking, a rum and coke please. Oh, and make it a dark one.” Had he imagined her wink?

“You always did like a dark rum, love.”

Ellie shifted in her chair. People were seeking shade, but at least there was a breeze.

“I remember you two heading into a corner to get better acquainted,” Scott said.

“I didn’t think you were interested.”

“You got that one wrong, love.” When she turned up arm in arm with Johnny, it had been like a punch to the gut.

*****

“Fancy some candy floss?” Scott asked.

Ellie pulled a face. “I’m not sure I can face it.”

“How about an ice cream, then? To cool us down?”

“Now you’re talking.”

He walked back to the van they’d passed earlier.

“No need to rush,” Ellie said. “It’s not as if I’m going anywhere, is it?”

By the time he returned, the sky was deepening amber and the ice creams were starting to melt.

“Here you go, love. Strawberry. Just in time – they’d nearly run out.”

Ellie licked her lips. “Johnny used to like mint choc chip. Always asked for two flakes.”

So Johnny was back again, unspoken but unmistakable.

“Yeah. He had a sweet tooth.”

“You must have missed him when he left the band.” Her sigh was like waves over pebbles.

“Of course I did.”

*****

That had been another hot summer, with hosepipe bans.

One clammy evening, Scott’s band were due to play. Johnny rang from a callbox – his dad’s car had broken down.

Sipping her rum and coke at the bar, Ellie seemed out of spirits.

When Scott asked if she was alright, she’d said she was thinking of ending it with Johnny.

Scott might have replied but the landlord tapped his shoulder.

“We’ve waited long enough, mate. You’ll have to start without him.”

Scott touched Ellie’s arm. “We’ll talk later.”

“There’s never going to be a good time.” Then she kissed him.

The band played without Johnny. During the interval, Ellie found Scott in the car park, still tasting of that kiss – unaware of Johnny’s late arrival. That was the last time Scott saw his friend.

*****

On the beach, the air shimmered. Ellie had him stop by three sandcastles, their peaks already collapsed by the tide.

“I want you to promise me something,” she said urgently.

Scott crouched, scooping sand into a bucket, trying to rebuild. The towers slumped almost at once. Some things just weren’t meant to last.

“What?”

“That you’ll get back in touch with Johnny. You’ll need a friend in the months ahead.”

“Don’t say that. You can still pull through.”

“We both know that’s not true. Promise me you’ll think about it.”

*****

In the weeks after Ellie’s death, the house seemed hollow. Scott kept busy with long-postponed tasks, comforted by talking to her even if she couldn’t answer.

In the attic, repairing a broken truss, he came across a case. Inside were old keepsakes, and letters tied with ribbon. Several were in Johnny’s hand, one dated only two months before Ellie’s death. Scott read them carefully before tucking them back.

Some time later, he drove to his old hometown where Johnny still lived. Landmarks tugged at him: the gasometer, the nature-project saplings now grown, new buildings stitched into the fabric. He hadn’t been back since his parents’ deaths.

Johnny was waiting in a booth at the old restaurant. His thick dark hair was flecked with grey, blue eyes wary.

“Still wearing the leather jacket?” Scott asked. “You haven’t changed.”

The old friends half-embraced.

“Neither have you. Well, not much anyway.”

They laughed.

“So, how’s life treating you, Scott?”

Scott hesitated. When he’d messaged Johnny, he hadn’t mentioned the most important thing.

“Ah, you know. More important, what about you?”

“I never found a bass player to match you,” Scott admitted.

“Yeah, I was pretty awesome.” Johnny grinned, then grew serious. “But really? You must have played with loads of great people.”

“Not really. We had a kind of magic. You can’t beat that.”

As the evening wore on, the years melted away.

“With hindsight, leaving the band wasn’t such a great idea,” Johnny said.

“Why did you? I mean, I know why you did, but…”

“Like you say… you know why.”

“Ellie?” Her name hung in the air like distressed velvet.

“Why else would I have left?”

“I know you really liked her.”

“A bit more than that.”

“I’m sorry about… you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“The thing is…” Scott toyed with the cutlery. “I wanted to tell you in person. Ellie died three months ago.”

Johnny’s eyes clouded.

“I did hear. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.”

Scott buried his head in his hands. “I know you kept in touch. I found some of your letters. I wondered if you still held a torch for her, even after…”

“You mean after I lost her to you?”

“Well…”

“Yeah. For a while.”

“In them you talked about our friendship, the band, growing up…”

“Yeah.”

The silence was broken by a dropped plate, a raucous stag party cheer.

“Remember when we were like that?” Scott said.

“Seems a lifetime ago.”

“Some things never change.”

“Ellie was special,” Johnny said softly.

“She was the best. Do you think I’d have risked our friendship for anything less?”

“Nah. Probably not.”

“I heard you got married, built up a business.”

“Yeah. Kids, Bev’s teaching. I settled in the end.”

“Sounds great.”

“Up to a point. Bev’s wonderful, but sometimes it felt like something was missing. I should never have left the band. I should have let the dust settle. I just couldn’t face seeing you and Ellie together.”

Scott was pensive. “You know, it wasn’t always roses. Touring kept me away for months. She wanted the kids to have a normal life. She must have had her doubts.”

“Doubts? About what?”

“About whether she’d chosen the right man, you mug. Don’t forget, she loved you before me.”

“But not enough to stay.”

“You know, I always thought Bev was amazing.”

“I didn’t know you knew her.”

“She was at the last two gigs. Everyone could see she only had eyes for you.”

“Yeah.”

Scott took a risk. “Do you think things would’ve worked if you and Ellie…?”

Johnny exhaled. “I dunno. Maybe not.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, you always had your head in the clouds. Dreaming of the perfect band, the perfect world, the perfect woman.”

“Ellie seemed like the perfect woman.”

“I loved her, but she wasn’t perfect. No one is.”

“That’s what Bev says.”

Outside it had started raining.

“All I know,” Scott murmured, “is I’d give a lot to swap places with you right now.”

“Hands off,” Johnny said, and Scott smiled.

*****

After leaving Johnny, Scott drove hard. With each mile the gap between past and present widened. He saw Ellie again on that last trip to the sea, smiling up at him even in pain, woven into him like salt into water.

On the last leg, the rain cleared. The sun broke through, painting the sky gold. The heat in Scott’s head eased, not with a bang but a sigh.

“Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight,” he murmured.

On impulse, he pulled into a supermarket and bought the biggest bunch of flowers he could find. Lilies – Ellie’s favourite. On the back seat, their yellow trumpets bloomed, testament to living life fully, proof a person didn’t have to be alive to still be part of you.

Then he drove home without stopping.