A Promise...to a Proposal?. Kate Hardy

drizzly September day with Tom’s parents and Ruby, on the first anniversary of Tom’s death, to help them scatter some of Tom’s ashes in his favourite place. A place that brought back so many happy childhood memories that it put a lump in Ellis’s throat.

      ‘Thanks for looking up all the information for us,’ Ruby said. ‘I wasn’t sure if we had to get permission from someone first or even how you go about scattering ashes.’

      ‘Hey, it’s the least I could do. I loved Tom, too,’ Ellis said. And when Ruby had first broached the subject about scattering Tom’s ashes, he’d known exactly where Tom would’ve wanted it to be.

      He spread a couple of waterproof blankets on the beach for the four of them to kneel on, and took four brightly coloured spades and buckets from a plastic bag.

      It might be a dark day, the final goodbye, but Ellis wanted to remember the brightness. To remember Tom as he was before he was ill and to celebrate the close friendship they’d shared over the years.

      ‘I remember you boys doing this when you were small,’ Brenda said with a wobble in her voice as she dug into the sand and filled her bucket. ‘You both loved the beach. It didn’t matter if it was summer or winter—if we asked you what you wanted to do, you’d both beg to come here and make sandcastles.’

      The lump in Ellis’s throat meant he couldn’t speak. He remembered. Days when life was simple. Days when his parents had been as carefree as Tom’s. Though Tom’s parents, he knew, wouldn’t react in the same way as his parents had when it came to the death of their child. Brenda and Mike would talk about Tom with love and keep him alive in their hearts, rather than stonewalling everything.

      Working in companionable silence, the four of them made a sandcastle. Just as they had when Tom and Ellis were small boys: only this time Tom’s widow was taking Tom’s place.

      When they’d finished, Ellis produced a flag from his bag—one made from an ice-lolly stick and a photograph of Tom. It was one of his favourite memories: the day they’d opened their A level results together, whooped, and known they were both going to train as doctors in London. For Tom, it had been the next step towards a dream. For Ellis, it had been the next step towards escape from a home that had come to feel like a mausoleum.

      ‘He was eighteen years old then,’ Mike said softly as Ellis handed him the flag. ‘With the whole world before him.’

      How very little time Tom had actually had. Not even half a lifetime.

      And how very much Ellis wished his best friend was still here. ‘He was special,’ Ellis said, his voice cracking.

      ‘Yes. He was,’ Mike said, and put the flag on the top turret.

      Brenda and Ruby both gulped hard and squeezed each other’s hand.

      Ellis finished digging the moat round the outside of the castle; and then the four of them took turns scattering Tom’s ashes in the moat and covering them over with sand. Ruby sprinkled rose petals on the top.

      Then Ellis moved the blankets back a little way, set up the two huge umbrellas he’d packed in the car when he’d seen the weather report, and uncorked a bottle of champagne.

      ‘To Tom,’ he said when he’d filled their glasses. ‘And may our memories of him make the smiles outnumber the tears.’ Even though right now it felt as if the tears were more than outweighing the smiles, Ellis was determined to celebrate his friend rather than be selfish about his loss.

      Mike, Brenda and Ruby echoed the toast, even though their smiles were wobbly and Ellis could see their eyes were shiny with tears they tried to blink away.

      Then the four of them sat and watched as the tide came in, slowly sweeping the sandcastle away with the ashes, and tumbling the rose petals and Tom’s photograph in the waves.

      Afterwards, Ellis drove Tom’s parents home.

      ‘Will you come in for something to eat?’ Brenda asked on the doorstep.

      ‘Thanks, but…’ Ellis tailed off. Even being in this town made him feel stifled. He hated it here. What he really wanted to do was drive as fast as he could back to London. Away from the dark memories.

      ‘Of course. You’ll want to drop in to see your own mum while you’re here,’ Brenda said.

      Ellis didn’t have the heart to disillusion her, so he just smiled. Today of all days, he really couldn’t face his parents. They’d be aware of what he’d just been doing, and they’d be thinking of Sally. And, as always, they’d retreat into coolness rather than talk to him or even give him a sympathetic hug. Even though Ellis understood why—when you’d lost someone you loved so very much, sometimes withdrawing from everyone seemed like the only way to keep your heart safe from further hurt—he still found it hard to deal with. He always felt as if he’d lost more than his beloved only sister, twenty years ago; he’d lost his parents, too. And although he’d remained reasonably close to his older brothers, his choice of career had put a distinct rift between them. Tom’s parents had been Ellis’s greatest support through his teen years, and he’d always be grateful to them for it. And for Tom’s sake he’d look out for them now, the way they’d looked out for him.

      Brenda hugged him. ‘Thank you for being there for us.’

      ‘Any time.’ And he meant it. ‘Just because Tom’s…’ He couldn’t say the word. He just couldn’t. ‘Not here,’ he said croakily, ‘it doesn’t mean you’re not still part of my life, because you are. You know I think of you as my second set of parents. I always will.’

      Tears glittered in Brenda’s eyes. She patted his shoulder, clearly too moved to talk, and then hugged Ruby.

      ‘I’ll text you when we get back to London,’ Ruby promised.

      But she looked quizzically at Ellis when he drove straight out of the town and back towards London. ‘I thought you were going to see your parents?’

      ‘Not today.’

      ‘Look, don’t feel you have to get me back to London if you want to see them. I can always go back to Brenda and Mike’s and wait until you’re ready, or get the train back.’

      That was the point. He didn’t actually want to see his parents. Especially not today. Part of him lambasted himself for being selfish, but the realistic part of him knew it was necessary self-preservation. ‘Another time,’ he said.

      ‘If you’re sure.’

      ‘Oh, I’m sure,’ he said softly. ‘My parents are…complicated.’

      She reached over and squeezed his hand briefly. ‘I know,’ she said, equally softly.

      In the months since Tom’s death, Ellis had opened up a little to Ruby and told her about the tragedy that had taken the sunshine out of his world. How his older sister had taken a gap year before university, teaching in a remote school. Sally had fallen pregnant by accident and hadn’t realised it at first; when she’d been so sick, everyone had assumed it was a virus. But by the time they’d realised she was suffering from hyperemesis gravidarum, a severe form of morning sickness, it was too late. She’d grown too weak, developed complications, gone into organ failure and never regained consciousness.

      And Ellis’s parents had never recovered from losing their only daughter. Their remaining three sons simply hadn’t been enough to bring them back from the cold, emotionless life they’d led from that moment on.

      Ellis and Ruby drove back in companionable silence, listening to Nick Drake. The kind of mellow, faintly melancholy stuff Ellis had enjoyed listening to with Tom. It went well with the rain and his mood.

      Back in London, he parked in the street outside Ruby’s house and saw her to the door.

      ‘Thank you, for today, Ellis. I don’t know what I would have done this last year without you,’ she said.

      ‘Hey, no problem—and you’ve helped me, too.’ He hugged her. Bad