Chapter Forty-Three

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"Diya!" came a loud voice, direct and forceful. A woman barrelled toward me. She was in her late thirties with a mass of blonde curls atop her head and bright, sparkling eyes.

"Ella," I whispered, watching in awe as she threw her arms apart and engulfed me in a brilliant hug. Everything hit me like a wave then, and I was thrown back twenty years to the months we spent together. Ella was my first everything. First crush, first relationship. First love.

Biting her lip, she pulled back, "Gosh, you look wonderful. I haven't seen you since..."

"Bali, yes," I smiled softly, "Ten years ago. How time flies."

"Bali," Ella's eyes took her elsewhere for a moment, as the bustling of people reconnecting surrounded us.

Hallway House stood as proudly as ever, a sprawling mass of a government's failed attempt at setting up a state school where there had once been an elite boarding school of future prime ministers and the children of royalty. Hallway was crumbling now, underfunded and mistreated, but her eyes were bright and merry and she welcomed the ex-pupils with a warm breeze floating along the stone corridors. A few moments passed. Ella opened her mouth to say something, before ramming it shut in shock. She was looking at something over my shoulder and I frowned, my heart thudding in my chest.

Emma Slater. I let out a low, rough chuckle and grabbed her, breathing in her homely scent. She smelt like childhood, and there was a hollow ache in my chest as I pulled back from the hug, looking at the woman carefully.

She had changed a lot in twenty years. My last memory was her on the final day of Year 13. Something had happened to her, something that turned her into a ghost. Hollow and gaunt, the haunted look in her eyes had left an impression on me long after we said what I thought may be our final goodbyes. Emma, I remembered, had never been quite the same after her father left. Despite his vicious ways, he was the only family she had left and that broke her in an irreparable way. Even then, she had never looked as truly sorrowful as the last day of Year 13. I almost didn't want to know what happened.

We had stayed in touch after leaving school, but she soon dropped off the grid after the death of Rachel and Finn. Dark, sultry eyes regarded me scrupulously through heavy lashes, set above full, red lips and fair skin. Soft, shining brown curls hung down just past her shoulders, and the grin she sent me was devastatingly charming. I felt my guard fall as she pressed a gentle, comforting hand to my shoulder in a friendly, inviting gesture. The gaze she held made me feel as if I was standing in front of a roaring fire on a cold day, and at once I was at ease. Dressed in a deep, green jumpsuit and deadly black heels, she was the epitome of grace, not something I had ever previously associated with the girl I had once known.

"It's wonderful to see you," she smiled, and I detected a small hint of Scottish in her voice as she spoke.

"And you," I grinned because it was true. Emma had always had something electric about her, and it wasn't until now that I realised how much I had missed it. As I turned to grab a glass of champagne, someone appeared at her side.

It took me a second to realise who it was, and when I did I almost dropped my glass.

"James Jansen!?"

"I go by Nafula now, actually," came a delectable voice, the vocal equivalent of rich honey tinged with smoke.

"I apologise profusely," I drew her in for a hug, "I had no idea you had..." I swallowed, unsure of how to approach the situation.

"Transitioned?" Nafula let out a gorgeous laugh, tilting her head back, "It's okay, you can say it. It's not a taboo subject for me, merely a fact of life."

"Well, I'm terribly happy for you," I responded immediately, deciding not to probe further although a million questions burned into my mind, "You look splendid."

"As do you, Diya, the years have treated you well," Nafula complimented and I blushed accordingly, feeling surprisingly disappointed when I saw the flash of a wedding ring on her finger. Nafula and I had never been that close when we were younger, as I mostly knew Emma through Basketball, however, I felt an odd pull to the woman in a way I couldn't describe. I noticed that I was not alone in this - most of the eyes in the room occasionally flitted to the pair, and I couldn't blame them. They really were rather remarkable.

We stood in the old ballroom which had long since been converted into a gymnasium. Satin ribbons draped across the ceiling, between which hung strings of fairy lights. A series of circular tables draped in white cloth dotted the room. Upon these were bouquets of plastic flowers sprinkled with yellow petals and waiters strutted about the room holding trays of cheap champagne. I couldn't decide if it was horrifically garish or astoundingly wonderful. Nafula and Emma seemed to be having a conversation as I drifted away, and I caught the tail ends of it as I spotted Ella across the room.

"I'm sick of always waiting for that woman."

"Relax, Emma, she'll be here soon. She said she wanted a dramatic entrance."

"Fine," was the resounding huff before I was out of earshot. I wondered absentmindedly who they were gossiping about as Ella began to introduce me to her husband.

He seemed very much oblivious to the history between us, and judging by the glare on Ella's face, she wished to keep it that way. After a tedious conversation that consisted mostly of him struggling to pronounce my name, I wondered why I had even bothered to come in the first place.

Then, I remembered. It was the reason almost everyone was here, the hall filled to the brim with upwards of 150 people.

Finn and Rachel. 

They were well-known, well-liked and the news of their passing had shocked everyone. It had been years since I had been in contact with either of them and the regret I felt at my lack of contact seeped into my bones, further resounding within me when the invites to the funerals never arrived in the post.

The standard ten-year reunion was set to happen that year, but it felt inappropriate to go ahead with it. Most of us were shells of grief at that point, and I recalled the desperation in Ella's letter like it was yesterday. If we hadn't run away to Bali for a week and left everything behind, I might not have survived.

I wondered then what would have happened if Ella had stayed with me. Stayed in Bali like I had asked, begged, pleaded. The last time I saw her was the airport, when she returned to England, soon to meet her current husband. I watched them across the room. Ella was whispering in a frantic, hushed manner, staring avidly at someone. 

My eyes followed her gaze, and all the wind was knocked out of me in a single second as I clutched my stomach, breathless.

Flanked on either side by great, oak double doors, stood a woman. A gush of air flew into the room, returning the breath to my lungs.

I recognised her instantly. Tall and statuesque, her imposing figure commanded the attention of the room with abject ferocity. Mrs Elderflower scanned the room with sharp eyes, her gown stunning obsidian run through with slivers of emerald green. Light hair was swept back into a low bun and a bright glow shone from behind, giving her the ethereal look of an angel. It was an utterly resplendent sight, and I felt as if I couldn't quite go on with my own life until she moved, like she was a powerful queen and us, her lowly servants.

The approach of Emma Slater broke the spell, and the crowd resumed. A little quieter now, less rushed as whispers reached a deafening murmur. My eyebrows creased into a frown as Emma pressed a light kiss on the teacher's cheek and whispered something in her ear that made the woman's cheeks flush red. It felt almost like old times. Part of me expected Rachel and Finn to burst in with ridiculous smiles, jeering at their poor, love-struck friend. It had been no secret that Emma Slater had been head over heels for her formidable art teacher, and the coldness with which Mrs Elderfower treated her only made the situation even more humorous. Emma would always vehemently deny her feelings, but it was as clear as the sky was blue, much like Mrs Elderflower's disdain for the teenager. Oh, we teased Emma mercilessly, we really did. That seemed a faraway world now, a time untainted by the horrors of growing old. My eyes flickered to the doors, but Rachel and Finn never entered. Even after all this time, I still missed them.

An hour or so passed before they approached me. Nafula had disappeared, and so had Ella, so I was alone and vulnerable when Emma approached with the expression of a shark reaching its prey. Immediately, I felt like a deer in headlights.

"Diya," Emma said pleasantly. I watched in astonishment as she placed a hand on Elise's back. Were they drunk? Why were they touching?

"Good to see you again," I hid my shock behind the rim of a plastic champagne flute, "Mrs Elderflower, you too. You look wonderful."

"Not trying to steal my fiance, are you, Diya?" Emma smirked as my face fell and I couldn't hide my expression any longer. My brain was whirring as I looked between the two stunningly beautiful women. Elise's grin was predatory as a slender hand snaked towards me and I shook it robotically. A ring caught the light, and my breath hitched. It was easily the most incredible piece of jewellery I had ever seen in all my years alive.

"Please, call me Elise," she said playfully. The years had softened her, and whilst she still held an impossibly sharp edge, her eyes were brighter and more often than not there was a smile pressing against her lips.

"Of course," I swallowed, finding it difficult to talk. Something about them was so alluring I felt bewitched. Together, they sucked the life out of the room and gifted it back all in one breath. Their gestures mirrored each other and their movements were like a dance, beguiling and smooth like clear glass, "Congratulations on your engagement, I - I had no idea you were together."

"Yes, well," Emma gave a shit-eating grin, flashes of her younger self shining through the cracks, "It was a long time coming. We've only been together for... for less than a year, really."

"Oh," I raised my eyebrows, "I had assumed you had been together since school. I didn't want to ask, but..."

"No, no," Elise shook her head as her eyes seemed to darken. Something silent passed between them, a fleeting conversation typical of people that know the other better than they know themselves. 

Part of me almost felt jealous. I hadn't found that person, my person, and I wondered if I would ever find them. Perhaps I was doomed to eternal loneliness. Then I thought that someone can be, for all intents and purposes, head over heels in love and still be the most miserable human alive. My eyes flickered to Ella before returning to the couple. Had I removed the background and placed them in a high-end London restaurant, you could have told me this was the after party of a Vogue runway show and I would have believed you wholeheartedly.

"Has anyone spiked the juice yet?"

"Emma, we're adults now," I smirked, "There's champagne, we don't need to spike anything."

"Nonsense," Emma's eyes glinted, "Since when did you get so boring? Ciao," she disappeared, armed with a flask. I turned to Elise, swallowing my fear. Even now, something about her terrified me in a way I couldn't place. Perhaps that was what had drawn her to Emma. Emma Slater seemed to be the only person in the whole world not scared of her.

"Are you enjoying the reunion?"

"No," I responded with a shrug, "I wish I hadn't come. It's all very tedious."

"You're rather more forthright than I remember," Elise smirked, her eyes tailing Emma as the younger woman looked around in such a manner that everyone knew what she was going to do before she even did it. Rolling my eyes, I turned back to the blonde.

"And you're rather more carefree."

"Emma has that effect on people, unfortunately," Elise drawled like it was the singular most annoying thing in her life but her eyes glowed with radiant happiness. The love she felt lit up her face so that she looked like she was constantly standing in the sun. 

The evening drew to a steady close, and soon Emma and Elise mingled with the crowds like they had never left. It was a strange night, filled with a viscous air of heavy grief fused with acceptance.

No one said it, but that night, it almost felt like Rachel and Finn were finally laid to rest. Hallway House closed its doors, and I realised I would never return here again for as long as I lived. As I walked away, I left Rachel and Finn behind, not to forget them but to allow them the peace that they deserved.

As I had constantly told myself all those years ago, they were together now. Life dealt them too many cards for them to handle, so they flipped the table and took their leave. They never saw the destructive path they left behind in their wake, but perhaps that was a good thing. They were together, and in the end, that was all that really mattered.

In the bitter night air, cigarette smoke blended with the cold, jagged breathing of various ex-pupils as I watched the figures of Elise Elderflower and Emma Slater recede into the distance. A memory pushed itself to the forefront of my mind as they disappeared into the shrouds of darkness as if they had never been there at all.

Elise and Emma stood together in the school library not three days before the Winter Ball, dust asphyxiating me as I clambered onto a chair to spy through the bookshelves. Oh, I had been a nosy bugger. They stood with ample space between them, but the energy that rolled off of their biting jokes was palpable and drew them closer than something physical. Emma had pulled a book from the shelf, and read the title out loud.

"A Victorian Ladies' Guide to the Language of Flowers," Emma had declared, "What a load of tosh!"

"Let me see," Elise had then grabbed the book, and I recalled frowning at that, for she seemed a little looser, a little less guarded than I was used to, and it was a strange but not entirely unnerving sight. She had opened it on a random page, and then a smile had slowly grown on her face as she stroked a yellowing picture. "Daffodils," she had said gently, "My favourite."

"Really?" Emma had snatched the book back and peered at the words on the page before her features softened. Their eyes met, both vicious as the clanging of swords and gentle as waves lapping on a shore, and I suddenly felt that I was intruding on a very private moment.

"They remind me of you," Elise looked away then, like the forces between them were too much, "Bright. Carefree."

"So I'm your daffodil?" Emma giggled, evidently trying to loosen the tension that had wafted into the room and engulfed us all in a dense fog.

"Yes," Elise responded, her voice low and heavy and rich with emotion, "You're my daffodil. You're my Narcissus." 


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A/N 

And there we have it! The end. Thank you all for sticking with me through this; three years, over 200,000 words (More than The Deathly Hallows!), 43 chapters and over 300 Google doc pages later! My writing style has certainly changed since the first chapter, and I can't be thankful enough for you all for sticking with me through this. I had another chapter planned to talk about their future, but in the end, whilst writing this chapter, it felt right to end it here.

Again, thank you all sincerely for reading, voting and commenting. This book has been such an intense part of me for so long, it's terrifying to let it go - even with a second book in the works. Perhaps I'll see you all again sooner than you realise :)

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