The Morrison family had claimed Neil McManus for their own, and that was simply the way it was going to be.

When it was time to say our goodbyes I got shy, struggling with the words I wanted to say, but knew didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of forming on my lips. I didn’t want Neil to leave without a proper send-off, but I was also totally self-conscious like any young girl would be with an adult man she adored and thought walked on water. I also waited until his girlfriend Cora had gone to the loo. I didn’t care for Cora much at all and surely wouldn’t have her fouling up my coveted goodbye to Neil. I wasn’t stupid, just at a disadvantage.

“So, Cherry Girl, don’t go falling off any fences or getting into the middle of a bunch of sodding idiots brawling while I’m away, all right?” His dark eyes twinkled with teasing so that I couldn’t help but return a smile as they swallowed me up.

“I won’t.”

“I’ll have a hard time cracking heads all the way here from over in Afghanistan.”

I looked at the floor and gulped down the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. “Nobody will bother with me. They never do,” I said.

He dipped his head to find my eyes, waiting for me to look up. “I think that’s about to change, Cherry. You’re growing far too pretty for your own good. The blokes are going to be all over you and they’d better be nice. Ian’s got strict instructions to keep the crowds of arseholes at bay and make sure I’m regularly updated.”

I blushed to the roots of my hair and gathered the courage to give him my gift. “I made you something.” I handed the small packet to him and waited while he opened it, his big hands moving the tissue paper carefully aside. “It’s a bracelet,” I blurted, “for luck…to keep you safe.” I held up my own wrist. “I made one for me too. It has the infinity symbol and two good luck owls…I’ll say a prayer for you every day and this will help me to remember,” I trailed off, feeling shy again. “Be really careful over there, Neil, I want you to come back.”

He brushed over the black-braided leather with the charms I’d added and smiled before looking up at me. “I will,” he said in a whisper. The expression Neil wore was different this time. Something I’d never seen from him before, at least not directed at me personally. His eyes seemed like they could be a little watery too. We were definitely having a moment.

He brought a hand up to my cheek and held it there for a moment. “Thank you.” He slipped the bracelet onto his wrist and tightened it. “I’m going to miss you very much, Cherry…and I’ll wear this, and be the luckiest bloke in the British Army.” He held his wrist up to show my bracelet before wrapping me into a hug with his big arms.

“I’m going to miss you too, Neil.” And, I love you. I breathed in the smell of him and held onto it, hoping he would return safely someday, that the war would not take him away from us forever.

I felt his soft lips against the side of my temple and got the squishy feeling in my insides again. I didn’t want to pull away, but the awkwardness of my young emotions bouncing all over the place made me self-conscious.

“Don’t you ever change, Cherry Girl. Stay just how you are right now. You’re utterly perfect.”

Those were Neil’s final words to me before he left to be a soldier.

2

Nothing stays the same though, and I did change. A great deal. It’s impossible for life to stand still and of course, it never will. Change is inevitable in all of us.

The year Neil joined the army was also the same year everything changed at home for my family. Hell, everything changed all over the world.

September 11 happened.

My father was on the flight that crashed into the Pentagon building in Washington D.C. during the attacks. He’d been there for business and on his way to Los Angeles when the plane was hijacked and taken down. One of the sixty odd British nationals to lose their lives on that fateful day. My father was ripped away from us and we would never see him again. I guess that was the moment when I passed out of childhood and left it behind me. The innocence of my prior life was gone. Forever.

Time to grow up.

The horribleness of that year was really clouded for me. There are some things I remember clearly that were insignificant at the time, and other things I should have memories of, but are just…gone.

Like Dad’s funeral for instance. I know we had a service for him, I’ve seen the pictures in an album, but I don’t remember a thing about it or being there, or who came to pay their respects, or if I even spoke to them. I have nothing but blankness about that day. However I do remember stupid things like what shoes I was wearing when we watched the news on television and saw the pictures of fires and wreckage and crashed plane parts that took my gentle and loving father from me.

My red Chuck’s with black laces.

It’s funny how our subconscious can hold onto some memories and not others. Like the letter that Neil sent to me personally, shortly after it happened. I remember that very well, because I still have it safe in a box with all my other precious mementos.

Dear Elaina,

There aren’t proper words to express the depth of my sadness for your unbearable loss. I want to be home in England more than anything right now, but it is out of the question for the time being. Your father was the best of men. He loved his wife and children and worked hard for you all so you could have a safe and comfortable life. He was a true man in every sense of the word. This mad world we live in could use a great deal more men like George Morrison in it. He will be greatly missed. I wish so badly that I could be there for you and Ian, and your sweet mum right now. Please know that I am thinking about you and sending my love to you all. You are never far from my thoughts, Cherry. Don’t ever forget it.

Yours always,

Neil

His letter was written hastily on military-issue stationary, which spoke to the hectic pace the army was keeping right after the attacks. Neil was busy fighting a war against terrorism and I was busy trying to grow up, and accept the fact that I had only one parent left in my life. Ian was busy at university and his career in law. Our mum was busy drowning her grief in glasses of gin.

We were all very, very busy getting on with our lives and doing our jobs. Isolated. Alone.

My dad had done well by us though, and there were settlements from his life insurance, the airlines, and the US government, so money was not the issue. No, it was more so the void and abruptness that we were forced to accept that he was never coming back to us.