Page 59 of The Edge of Always

‘He got the cottage in the divorce. Everyone wondered why he wanted it so bad, seeing as it meant living next door to Clive and Mum initially. But he fought for it. He knew he was dying, you see. Before anyone else understood what was happening. He left the cottage to Mae and me.’

‘Shit, Luna. He was way too young. That summer… I didn’t know.’

‘I know. It’s okay. Death doesn’t know to wait for old age.’

‘No, it doesn’t.’ We’re still standing really close together. ‘I’m glad he had you and Mae at the end. People who are dying are even more in need of love than those who aren’t.’

He must mean that this is something he’s seen in his work as a doctor. It’s impossible that he’d be talking to me, though that’s how it feels. Anyway, I’m not sure that I agree. Part of me thinks it’s a waste, loving someone when there’s no hope of a future. It just makes everything worse.

‘Anyway, it was a volatile situation – Mae and me living next door to Mum and Eyebrow Clive. They cruised a lot and then moved away. We hardly see them now.’

‘She called just now though.’

‘Because I never go on random trips. I hardly ever leave home.’

We aren’t far from the dock now.

‘Why is that?’

I shrug. ‘I just like it there. I’m happy, or content at least. I don’t need loads of excitement in my life.’

‘I don’t know if that’s sad or admirable.’

I laugh. ‘Being out in the world was always your dream, not mine. Earl got that, I think.’

Emmett nods. ‘I just wanted to get away,’ he says.

‘I know,’ I answer. ‘Maybe I just didn’t realise how badly you wanted to go.’

This cruise, inspired by Earl, has thrown up more questions than answers. Emmett and I don’t talk for a while, both lost in memories of the past. It was true what I said to Emmett. I am content. You don’t have to be over-the-top happy every day. It’s fine. A perfectly serviceable life is fine. And so what if it’s a little greyer than I would have liked? That’s just the way it goes. A degree of cynicism gets everyone in the end.

Except, I’m looking out at the most beautiful of sights. Emmett, against the backdrop of the Seine, the sun catching every place where the water ripples. So when I say that everyone becomes a cynic one day, it feels like I’m trying to convince myself of it. And when I picture Earl, out here on the water with Sebastian, I think that cynicism didn’t come for him. Not ever.

‘What do you think Earl was trying to say, painting this?’ Emmett asks after a while, looking back out at the river. A beautiful woman with huge gold earrings is leaning against the railings while her boyfriend snaps pictures.

‘Maybe he wanted to remind us that whatever happens, the world can be beautiful,’ I suggest.

He follows my line of vision across the water, and then he’s looking at me.

‘He wasn’t wrong.’

I hold his gaze until I’m uncomfortable again. Hot and flustered from too much feeling.

‘Or maybe he just wanted us to enjoy a nice river cruise.’

Emmett laughs and offers me his hand as we get off the boat. The Eiffel Tower is right there.

‘Can we go up it?’ I ask, thinking that I’m ready to move on now.

‘If you like?’ Emmett phrases it like a question.

‘I can’t come to Paris and not go up the Eiffel Tower.’

‘In which case, follow me.’

When I said I’d like to go up the Eiffel Tower, I’d assumed we’d take the lift. But there were no tickets left for the lift, only the option to walk. It genuinely hadn’t occurred to me that people would actually climb this giant metal tower. Like as in, up a set of never-ending stairs. And yet here we are. Mostly because I didn’t want to admit to Emmett or the man in the ticket booth that my heart is not cut out for this. I consider bowing out, saying I’ll do it next time. But I of all people know how precarious that kind of promise to yourself can be.

We’ve just passed a sign that says we have ten minutes to go until the first viewing deck. I presume first, as in, not the top. Emmett has barely broken a sweat. I admire the bravery of a man who attempts to climb a gazillion steps in grey.