Epilogue: One Month Later

It's a gorgeous afternoon, the nicest one so far all year, Sally reckons, and she says as much to Candice. They're walking through the park, Sally in jeans and a t-shirt, Candy in a dress. The blonde is gone now, her long flowing hair is red again for the first time in years. Candy grabs her hand and says;

“So are you going to tell me how things are with Ben, or do I need to beat it out of you?”

“And why are you so interested?”

“You've been with him a month,” Candy says. “I know that's not a long time, not really, but it's a record for you.”

“You're right there, I suppose.” Sally's quiet for a minute. “Things are good, actually. Really good.”

“I guessed as much.” Candy looks away, unsure how to make their eyes meet as she asks her next question. “And how's the other thing?”

“Not touched a drop in just as long. And I've stopped going to those meetings.”

“Oh, thank fuck. Bloody vampires, the lot of them.”

“Funnily enough, that was exactly what I thought too.”

“You never needed them anyway. You're not an alcy, love. Not compared to some.”

“Not compared to you,” Sally laughs. “I just wanted to talk to somebody, I think, and you weren't around at the time.”

“Well I'm out of that pesky coma now, at last,” Candy twirls around on the footpath, her dress floating in the warm afternoon breeze. “Can't tell you how boring that was. I don't recommend it. But anyway, as I was saying-”

“I'm not an alcy, I know. Still, doesn't hurt to stay away from the booze for a while, does it?”

“I have to say, your skin looks better for it.”

“And I've lost a few pounds, not so you'd notice.”

“Really?” Candy looks her up and down. “Maybe there's something in this teetotal business after all.”

“I wouldn't say teetotal,” Sally shakes her head. “I mean, obviously I'll be drinking champagne at my wedding...” Candy's jaw drops, and she hurriedly adds; “which won't be for another million years or so, I can assure you. All I mean is, never say never.”

“Never say never...” Candy rolls the words around in her mouth, testing them for flavour. “I like it. Maybe that can be my new motto.”

“It can't be any worse than that phase where you said you would 'try anything once',” Sally reminds her. “Oh, the shenanigans...”

Candy smirks, and Sally is happy to know that her friend isn't in the least bit ashamed of anything she's done in her short but eventful life.

They reach a bench, one that wasn't here last time Sally walked in the park. She was alone that time, and as they both sit down she tells Candice how glad she is, to have her with her again.

“Not to be corny or anything,” Candy says, “but that's how it'll always be now. I'm always going to be there...” she glances down at her watch, “... apart from right this minute. Sorry, I have to dash.”

“No worries,” Sally smiles, and throws her arms around Candice.

“Easy tiger,” Candy says, “remember our policy about the crying and everything.” But she kisses Sally on both cheeks, all the same. “Alright, darlin', I'm off. You sticking around here for a bit?”

“Think so, yeah. I love this part of the park, especially on days like this.”

“Me too. Anyways, I'll see you later.”

“And until then...”

“Rock and roll. And so on.”

And then, with a final laugh and twirl of her dress, Candy is gone. Sally sits in silence, alone now on the bench. She runs her fingers over the shiny brass plaque that still looks out of place nailed to the freshly varnished pine wood, sort of like a new tattoo that looks odd until you get used to it.

The plaque reads: In Memory of Candice Lily Grey, 1985 - 2008.

Sally truly does love this part of the park. She remembers one night, years ago now, when she and Candice had been walking home from a party on the other side of town and got completely lost. They decided to try and cut across the park to see if they could get their bearings, and ended up falling asleep together under a tree, their coats draped over them like blankets.

Sal looks around now, but can't find the tree in question. Maybe it's not there anymore, or maybe it's just another memory that's blurred slightly, like a bad photo taken by a drunk. Most likely the second option, but it's a memory that Sally treasures anyway. She gets out a cigarette, lights it, and takes a long, pleasurable drag. She might be off the booze, but the way she sees it, everyone needs at least one vice. And she is fairly certain that a fag every now and then won't send her falling into bed with strangers. That's a phase she's quite happy to leave behind her.

When she gets home, Ben is waiting for her, evidently having been eager to try out the spare key that she gave him just last night. As she takes off her shoes and walks into the kitchen, he pours two glasses of lemonade and hands one to her. They clink the glasses - it's a dumb, romantic little thing that Ben started doing shortly after they first got together.

“Cheers,” he says, kissing her on the cheek, exactly where she imagines Candy's lips had been just a short while ago.

“Cheers,” she replies, taking a sip and then kissing him back.