Last Day in May

Nina Davie

I hadn't expected to see her that day but there she was cycling up the hill, Annie; my best friend confidante and all-round partner in crime.

It was a perfect May morning, bright blue skies, tarmac warm beneath my wheels. I hadn't seen her at first, too busy watching the shadows cast by the bike and me.

'Hi Annie, how's you?' As soon as the words came out, I caught her eye and knew something was wrong; she'd stopped cycling up hill and was lifting her leg over the bar of her gents bike.

' What's up Annie?' I tried to sound as casual as ever but this time something told me this was different. There were times when she seemed so fragile yet there were other times when her strength amazed me. I dropped my bike and moved over to where she'd crumpled onto the path. I wrapped my arms around her and gently lifted Annie to her feet. Both our bikes lay abandoned, discarded for now.

'It's just the same old crap Neen, but I don't know how much more I can take of it.' She was shaking with despair. Her shoulders felt smaller than usual, thinner and I tried to will some strength into her. Recharge her and let her know how much I cared.

'Come on Annie, why don't we get the bikes together and go for a pedal somewhere nice? A wee bit of the old DIY therapy, and I've got money for a pick-me-up.' She looked up and tried a smile and for a brief second I saw the other Annie shining through. 'Thanks Neen, I could really do with that. Just what I need.'

Side by side we cycled off to the shop then back down the hill towards Wardie Bay and the beach. 'Glad I bumped into you today Annie.' I was upbeat as we raced faster and faster downward.

At the beach we dumped our bikes onto the coal speckled sand and using our jackets for blankets, sat down side by side, ready to set her world to right.

It was quite unusual for me to be drinking at this time of day. Barely lunch-time and here I was, about to abandon my world for hers. We'd grown so close over the years. We'd known each for so long that I couldn't remember the first time we'd met. It was as if it had just always been.

So here we were sitting together looking out at the Firth o' Forth and it glistened back at us, our very own mirror listening quietly to our secrets.

Huddling together, I let Annie know how special she was, not just to me but to everyone she knew. But she was more special to me. She was always there, my thought for the day. I talked of all the good things; her son, her future plans and how I'd be there to help bring them to fruition.

'I love you Neen.' She said, still staring out at the water.

'You know I've been there Annie and it will get better. It does get better. We learn how to cope over time. Trust me.' Her head lay on my shoulder and I hoped beyond hope that she believed me.

'What about the gorgeous day? And we have this all to share just us and the beautiful sea.' I didn't mention that the tide had turned and was slowly creeping up the beach. Maybe she could see it, already knew.

'We've so much to live for Annie and remember, you promised to teach me to drive.

As our pick-me-up started to take effect Annie did cheer up and we began laughing, laughing at it all, all the things that impede our lives, even the incoming tide. We hugged and giggled like school girls playing truant.

Ever so slowly the sun began to sink over the breakwater and we began moving our position upward towards the large sea wall to escape the incoming tide.

Then the inevitable question, 'Time to go I suppose? But we'll be doing this again SOON!'

It was time to get back to reality. But we could cope now. I hugged her and I felt good. Good about myself. Good about her and grateful for this day when I could be there for Annie, as she had so many times for me. It was great to see her smiling as she waved goodbye holding her bike unsteadily with her other hand.

I called to her as she walked up her garden path. 'I'll pop up in the morning. Think we might need a coffee. Love you loads!'

We never had that coffee. The next morning Annie was dead. Found curled up at the end of her bed and all that is left is our yesterday.