On Tuesday morning it was only JP’s car, with Berenice, Kelly, Solomon and the equipment they needed, that went off into the hills to the village. The rest of the team stayed at the church, cleaning up and packing to leave early the next morning. Jill had woken up that morning feeling heavy with the knowledge that time with Alex was running out. James had worked things out so that everyone could fit in the two other cars, which had more space now that the food and medical supplies had been used up, and his own car could pull the now almost empty trailer back to PE and Marshall Bay. That meant Alex could head straight back to Cape Town, and not have to go all the way back to the Eastern Cape. It was still too far to drive alone in one day, so Alex had made a plan to stay overnight with a friend whose parents lived on a farm in the Karoo. At breakfast he had surprised her with a quick hug, and had then seemed a little embarrassed about it afterwards.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just feeling so weird about this being the last morning here.”
“I know,” she said, hoping her joy at his sudden show of affection didn’t show too obviously. “It’s sad to leave, isn’t it?” “Can we find a chance to talk?” he said. “Alone?”
“Yes,” she said. “I don’t know when. But yes.”
She was glad she had been right about the chat that had to happen, but she felt a rush of nerves as he said it. She longed to talk to Alex, to know something of what might be going on in his mind, and to tell him what was happening in hers, but she was afraid. For the past few days she had felt buoyed up by her feelings and had pushed away thoughts of the future, but today things felt different. Her instinct was that he felt the same as she did but she couldn’t know for sure until she had spoken to him. It’s a lot to assume, she thought, and even if he did, what could that possibly mean for them? All she knew was that she loved him; she felt it was crazy to use that word after such a short time, and she didn’t plan to say it to him yet, but nothing else matched what was in her heart. What it meant for the future she had no idea. Even if it meant rejection, it was time for her to say something.
The team spent the morning packing and cleaning, wanting to leave the church and the houses where they had slept as clean as they had found them. Whenever she thought there might be a gap where they could slip off unnoticed, something else would come up. Mark found her at one point to say that Pastor Isaac needed one more quick consultation about the English in one of the training booklets, and she ended up spending an hour in the office. Then Alex was needed to hold a ladder as Dave and Brad finished something on the roof. It was still school holidays, and some of the children were hanging around, wanting to see what they were doing and begging Jill to do the clapping games and songs with them one last time. Then she helped Melissa make lunch and clean up, and before she knew it, the morning had passed and they still hadn’t found a chance to talk.
JP and the others who had gone with him arrived back early in the afternoon. The team sat together over coffee and biscuits to hear how the morning had gone. “What’s for dinner tonight, Mel?” asked James.
“Chicken stew,” said Melissa. “We had enough money left so we’re going all out.”
“Brilliant,” said James. “Four o’clock again?”
“Yes please,” said Mel. “What do you guys want to do with your last afternoon? I was thinking of going into the town to look at those craft stalls again. I think I want to get one of those beautiful woven tapestries we saw the other day.”
Most of the others were keen to do the same. “I think I’ll stay here,” said Alex, looking over at Jill. “Maybe go for a walk.”
“Me too,” said Jill, feeling a little self-conscious. She clasped her mug in both hands and looked down. Maybe this was it.
“Okay then,” said James. “Everyone meet back here at four for our last chopping and cooking session.”
Within a few minutes, most of the others had drifted off, except for Brad who was hanging around the church, packing up and cleaning some of the tools. Alex finished his coffee and got up from the table. He looked at her, and she wondered what his expression meant. He looked sad and resigned. Not nervous and edgy as she did. “Come for a walk with me?” he said, softly so that Brad wouldn’t hear.
They walked off behind the church and towards the rock they had sat on the previous day. Alex walked with his arms folded and his head down, not saying much at all. It seemed even colder than it had been for the last few days, and crazy to be walking off into the open, but it was the price of privacy today. She hugged her jacket close and pulled her scarf tighter, her hands as deep into her pockets as they could go. When they reached the rock and sat down, Alex took a breath as if he was about to speak, but then he stopped. There was quiet for a moment.
“Finally,” she said, breaking the silence.
He grinned. “It wasn’t easy,” he said. “But I need to talk to you.”
“I need to talk to you,” said Jill. “I’m scared, though.”
“Scared?”
“Yes – I don’t know what you’ll think about what I want to say.”
“Maybe I’ll save you the trouble then and apologise first.”
“Apologise?”
“Yes, apologise.”
“For what?”
He looked at her quizzically, as if he had expected her to know exactly what he meant. “You’re very gracious,” he said.
“No, really,” she said. “What have you done? I can’t think of anything.”
“I have overstepped the boundaries so many times on this trip, Jill. You never call me out. I really am sorry.”
Jill was silent for a moment, trying to figure out what he meant.
Then it dawned on her.
“Are you talking about things like holding my hand yesterday?”
He nodded. “Yes. Friends don’t act the way I have been acting. I know where I stand, Jill. And I’m sorry for going beyond that.”
She couldn’t believe it. He thought she had just been putting up with him. He thought she still wanted only friendship. He had no idea that she had loved every little thing he thought he had to apologise for.
“Alex,” she said, her heart pounding. They had been sitting beside each other on the rock but now she turned to face him. She had to find the right way to say this. “Do you really think that what’s happening between us is still just friendship?”
Alex half laughed, as if she had just said something ridiculous. “How could it be anything else? You made it very clear.”
“That was five and a half years ago when we were kids, Alex,” she said, gently but firmly. He stared at her, not comprehending. She put her hand on his forearm. “Tell me honestly – these things you are apologising for – were you just being over-friendly? Did you just want some affection?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Then what? Isn’t it time we admitted something?” He still stared at her, confused, incredulous. She couldn’t believe it herself that she was being so bold, so confident. Her heart beat fast; she was still nervous despite her resolve, but this was important, and she wasn’t going to let him leave the next day without talking it out.
“I thought you were just being kind.”
“No. Sometimes boundaries get pushed out. Naturally. When a friendship changes ... into something else.” There was silence. Jill searched his face but found only conflict in his expression. “I turned you down before. I really didn’t want anything more than friendship then. But now – it’s different.”
“Whoa,” He stood up suddenly, stepping away from the rock and facing her. “Maybe you shouldn’t say this, Jill. If your feelings have changed, I know your principles haven’t. And I can’t invite you into my life. Not the way it is now, Jill, I can’t.”
She had upset him, she knew. He had faced more tragedy, uncertainty and change in the past few weeks than he ever had before. This wasn’t the perfect time to throw him another curveball. She understood why he might not want to hear this. “I’m not asking you to invite me into your life yet, Alex. I’m asking you … if you want to. If you didn’t have to worry about my principles, if there was no Huntington’s threatening your future … would you want to?” She shivered, not just from the cold. So much depended on this answer.
He didn’t answer for a while. There was so much tension in his expression that she felt her throat constrict and tears begin behind her eyes.
Then he folded his arms, and spoke quietly. “I think you already know the answer to that.”
“Will you say it, Alex? Please?”
He took a deep breath. “You want me to say it?” She nodded.
“Then yes.” He held up his arms as if in defeat, and dropped them again. “I feel everything I did for you when we were seventeen, and more. A lot more. I know it’s only been a couple of weeks since we reconnected, but I don’t want to leave tomorrow and for that to be the end.”
Oh, thought Jill, if my heart could sigh with relief that is what it would be doing right now. She felt she had known, but still – to hear him say it, to see that tender look on his face was like a breath of air after being underwater.
He sat down next to her on the rock again. “Jill, I just feel that I have no right to say that. I have nothing to offer you. Nothing. Even less than I thought I had when we were kids.”
“I don’t think that’s true, Alex.”
“It is true, Jill. I don’t know if I’m a Christian, and I know how important that is to you. I want to be but there’s still a lot I don’t understand. And I have Huntington’s hanging over me – Jill, don’t entertain this thought. For your own sake.”
“Alex.” Jill took a deep breath, trying hard not to let her voice betray her. “All I’m saying is that I don’t want tomorrow to be the end either. My principles haven’t changed, but I think you have. You may not be a Christian yet but I think God will finish what he has started in you. And when you know that – well then that barrier between us will be gone.”
“I didn’t understand before that there was a barrier between us,” said Alex, slowly. “But I know what you mean now. I understand better what you believe and why it has been so important to you that you don’t get involved with someone who doesn’t believe the same. Because it changes everything – the direction of your life; all the decisions you make.”
Jill nodded. “I haven’t changed my mind about that. But I’ve changed my mind about you. Maybe that sounds like a contradiction. I don’t know how else to explain.”
Alex grinned. “I think I know what you mean. You’re saying that if I get to the point where I can say for sure that I believe and I’m a Christian – then you’ll be waiting with open arms.”
Jill looked down. “That sounds bad, doesn’t it? Really cheeky. But yes. That’s what I’m saying. That’s what I needed to tell you before we leave tomorrow.”
“I could just tell you I’m a Christian right now, even if I’m not.”
“You could have done that before. You had too much integrity even then. I know you wouldn’t try to deceive me.”
Alex shook his head, gazing out over the landscape. “You had it all planned out,” he said. “You knew what you wanted and it wasn’t me. I know I’m not that guy you had in mind. I’ve been living as if God didn’t exist, doing whatever I wanted to. I’m not that guy, Jill, I’m not what you need.”
“You are not what I thought I wanted, no. But what I pictured doesn’t matter, Alex. I was naïve and idealistic, and since then life has shown me that it doesn’t work the way I thought it did. I think … I think you are wonderful. Our friendship is precious to me, more than it was before. You are kind and generous and respectful and unselfish and this time – this time I am not pushing you away.”
Her voice caught in her throat and Alex turned to face her. He still couldn’t believe she was saying this. What on earth had happened? How had things changed so much when he hadn’t even been trying to impress her? She had seen him at his lowest, at his most vulnerable, she had seen him cry, for goodness sake – and yet here she was, saying things he had in the past longed to hear her say. “But Jill,” he said, remembering in a rush the one thing that changed everything. “I might be sick. In ten years’ time I could be disabled and useless. When I go home I can have the test. And if it’s negative then …”
“No,” she said, shaking her head and putting her hand on his arm again. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Don’t make it all depend on that. What if it was me? If you knew for sure I was going to get a terminal disease, would you let me push you away?”
His eyes didn’t leave hers as he thought about her question. “I don’t think I would,” he said after a while. “But it doesn’t mean I would be okay with asking someone to take on that burden.”
“It’s not insignificant, Alex. But do you know how high my breast cancer risk is? My mom was diagnosed in her twenties. Her mother died from it too. I know – I know it’s not the same. There’s so little hope with Huntington’s. But maybe you could just … not have the test for a while.”
“What?” His eyes were wide with disbelief.
“It’s up to you of course, but maybe it’s better if it’s not a factor for now. Before you have the test there’s hope. Afterwards …”
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “Either way is bad. Unless I do it and it’s negative.”
“I know,” said Jill. “I have no idea what I would do if I was you.”
“If I have it I won’t have kids,” said Alex. “You have to know that now. Before you entertain this you and me thought any further.”
“I know. I have thought about that. But it’s not enough of a reason to walk away now.”
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Never having your own children is not enough of a reason to walk away?”
She shook her head.
They were silent for a while, huddled into their jackets as they sat on the rock. The wind settled down a little and the cold bit hard, and they both wondered what there could possibly be to say next. Jill was relieved that she had got the words out at last, that he knew now at least some of what she felt, and although her body was freezing her heart was warm with the thought that she had been right and he did still have feelings for her. Alex still felt stunned by her revelation and the possibilities that lay ahead. It seemed incomprehensible that the shadow of Huntington’s wasn’t a deal-breaker for her. And when it came to Christianity – he felt that he wanted to tell her right now that he believed it all, that even though he still had questions, he felt as if he had gone over the edge, that he had passed a point of no return. He had no intentions of forgetting about God as soon as he got home – on the contrary, he felt that he needed him to face what lay ahead, and that even if he was not going to get sick, the Jesus he had met over the last few days was not someone he could ignore. But he felt that he needed some more time to pass before he could claim to be a Christian, that his new faith needed to pass the test of reality, away from Lesotho, Jill and his new friends. And then, was it really possible? There was a chance that things could actually work out between them. Even if they lived in different cities. Even if he was going to get sick one day. It was a new, unbelievable thought. It filled him with wonder, trepidation, fear and joy all at the same time. He was the one to break the silence. “Jill,” he said, half laughing. “All the heavy stuff aside – I’m still shocked. I want to go back and tell my teenage self not to despair, just to be patient and wait a few years.”
She laughed too. “Did I hide it that well? Surely you must have wondered.”
“Yes,” he said, serious again. “After the pony trek, when we hugged in the dark. I wondered then. I hoped. I relived that moment a hundred times.”
“Me too,” she said. “That was a good moment. Even though you smelled terrible.”
He grinned and looked into her eyes, recognising for the first time what he now knew was more than just friendly affection. Something was starting to dawn in Alex, something he thought had died on that awful afternoon in the doctor’s office. He had felt it stirring as he had read the pages of his Bible and realised that there was nothing he could do to earn God’s love. And here he was, knowing he was no better than he had been in the past, listening to Jill tell him that she didn’t want to let him go. There is hope, he thought. There is hope! There could be life, and maybe even love ahead of him.
“And after all this,” he said, “tomorrow we leave. I don’t even know when I’ll see you again.”
“I don’t know either, Alex.” This time the tears came, not too many, just an overflow of the strange mix of relief, joy and sadness she felt.
“Hey,” he said, putting his arm around her as she wiped her eyes. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Tomorrow doesn’t need to be the end. I think we’ve agreed that much.”
She nodded. “I couldn’t not say anything, Alex. I know the timing couldn’t be worse.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m glad you did.”
Jill decided she had been so brave already that she might as well be again. “Do you … do you think you want to relive that hug one more time?” she said.
Alex didn’t say anything. He just put both his arms around her and held her close. Her arms were around him, her scratchy beanie against his face. He closed his eyes and breathed her in, hardly believing it was real this time. When they pulled away she laughed and rubbed her cheek. “You’re prickly. You need a shave.”
“Sorry,” he said, laughing too. “So, you don’t think I’m arrogant anymore?”
“Look at you,” she said. “If I want proof that you have been humbled I only have to look at you. Your socks didn’t start their lives that shade of grey, you’re wearing Eau d’Old Mattress, and your hair … well your hair is always amazing.” She looked up at where it did its perfect flick, just under the furry hood of his parka.
“You are amazing, Jill,” he said. “I always thought so and now …” He lifted his hand and touched her cheek. “I came out here thinking I was going to apologise for being too forward and then shake hands. Then we would go home and you would forget about me for another five years.”
“Never, Alex,” she said. “There was never any chance of that.”
There was a noise of running feet, and two of the children from
the feeding scheme appeared, running to Jill and smiling shyly at Alex. The little girl handed Jill a bracelet that she must have made out of grass, and Jill made a fuss of it, putting it on her arm and thanking her in Sesotho. The little boy climbed onto her lap and gave her a hug, his too-big knitted cap almost falling over his eyes.
Alex watched her as she gave the children her attention, her face still flushed and her eyes bright with tears. He still felt completely blindsided by what had just happened. Somehow, over the last few weeks, without his even realising it, something huge had changed, and Jill had seen it before he had. He hadn’t looked in a mirror since he had arrived in Lesotho but he thought now that if he did he would hardly recognise himself. Up until this moment every important thing he had achieved, every step forward on his path to success had been a result of his privileged life combined with own efforts, his own talents, his own hard work. Huntington’s disease had threatened to take all those things away. Yet in the wake of that drastic loss of control was this: Jill’s confession, and the very real possibility of soon having what the old Alex, with all he had going for him, had not managed to get right. He wondered if this was what Jill had meant when she had said that God had been working in him. He was no longer driving his own way under his own steam – he had been forced to stop and consider that submitting to God was a better way, perhaps the only way. His worldview was undergoing what felt like a massive tectonic shift. He could no longer move forward with his old confidence and pride; instead he had to fall to his knees and surrender to God’s wisdom and mercy. The only way forward was down this road that had begun with what had seemed like the end of everything, and perhaps – no, surely – it was going to be a road he would not have to travel alone. He shook his head in wonder as they stood to follow the children down the road back to the church, suddenly overcome with thankfulness to the God he had ignored for so long. The faith he had blamed for coming between them all those years ago – was now, incredibly, bringing them together.