How to Say Goodbye

by Katy Colins

  ‘Right, if you could make sure they’ve all got blu-tack on them?’ She nodded to the pile of photographs. ‘I want to stick them onto the glass doors.’

  I got to work, smiling at the ones I picked up. One of Callum with Finley and Noah caught my eye. He looked so carefree. They couldn’t have been taken that long ago; Noah wasn’t that much older but something about Callum, the lightness and relaxed way he held himself, wasn’t there anymore.

  ‘That’s one of my favourites of those two. Thick as thieves they are. He would have made such a good dad.’ Mel smiled sadly.

  I didn’t really know what to say to that.

  ‘It’s a lovely photo.’

  Mel didn’t seem to hear me as she snipped at a long piece of twine that she’d attached to some balloons.

  ‘They were trying for a baby. Him and Abbie.’ She was talking more to herself than to me. ‘Abbie never got stressed about how long it was taking but I know Callum worried from time to time. But, between you and me, I think she would have been too selfish to be a mother. Children ruin your figure for one thing!’ Mel laughed and patted her pudgy stomach. ‘Cal never said how much he wanted them to start going down the medical route, but I could tell he would have loved to have had a baby with her. He’s a natural with the boys, spoils them rotten. It just wasn’t meant to be, I guess.’

  I remembered seeing a photo Abbie had been tagged in on Facebook. She sat stiffly holding a wrapped up bundle in a hospital room, that must have been one of Mel’s sons. The next image had been Callum cradling the same mewling newborn in his strong arms, looking so natural and at ease. The two photos were such a contrast to one another. Another memory came to me – the packet of pills in her dressing room. I was convinced they were contraceptive pills. I shook my head. I must have been wrong.

  ‘You never fancied them? Kids, I mean,’ Mel asked, pulling my attention back to the present.

  ‘Er, well yeah,’ I stuttered. ‘I mean, I guess I just need to find the right man first.’ I let out a light but uncomfortable laugh.

  I blinked quickly and stared at another photo of Callum in a chequered shirt, sleeves rolled up and paint splattered on his cheeks. He had an arm around Mel, who was heavily pregnant in a pair of denim dungarees, waving a paint brush at the camera, standing in front of a blank wall.

  ‘That was when we were decorating the nursery. God, you should have seen our house when we moved in. It took months to renovate it. Cal practically moved in to help us. Nick works away a lot, so Cal didn’t want me to be alone with a toddler, being such a heavily pregnant whale. Seriously, Grace, I was bloody enormous!’ Mel laughed at the memory.

  ‘Did Abbie not mind Callum being away a lot?’

  ‘She was off on exotic modelling shoots for most of it. To be honest, even when she came back and Finley came along, she barely visited. She clearly felt out of place amongst our chaos.’ She stopped herself. ‘Sorry, I do have a habit of letting my mouth run away with me. You must think I’m a terrible person for speaking ill of the dead.’

  She’d hardly hidden her strained relationship with her sister-in-law from the first moment I’d met her. Mel tore open a packet of party rings and offered me one. She stuffed a biscuit into her mouth.

  ‘It’s like, when you die, people are expected to forget all the bad stuff you ever did or said. But you can’t forget that’s what made them the person they were.’

  I nibbled my biscuit, a little too nervous to stop this roll she was on.

  ‘No one is one hundred per cent good or flawless all the time. I mean, listening to that eulogy at her funeral, you’d have thought she was the reincarnation of bloody Mother Teresa or something. I can tell you now, she wasn’t like that at all and everyone in that room nodding along were just kidding themselves.’

  She swallowed, waiting for me to say something.

  ‘I guess the purpose of the funeral, and the eulogy in particular, is to look back at their life and celebrate it. It’s usually better to look at the bigger picture, rather than bringing up every bad point,’ I said.

  ‘Hmm, maybe.’ She sighed. ‘I just think if a person was selfish and vain in life, then death isn’t going to change that. I’d be a hypocrite if I suddenly gushed about what a wonderful person she was, when in actual fact she caused Cal a lot of pain. If you hurt people whilst you’re alive then why the hell should we all wipe that from our memories?’

  ‘Surely she had some admirable qualities?’ My voice was definitely getting higher. The Abbie I knew from Facebook was nothing like this version I was hearing.

  Mel scrunched up her nose. ‘Abbie could be the life and soul of the party. Callum was right in his speech at her wake when he said she lit up a room. But then she could also be incredibly cold, distant and shut off. She lived a life that many people would die for, but she never showed any gratitude. That was what really got to me.’ She leant closer. ‘Without going into it all, Cal slaved away for years to get to where he is now. The sort of modelling Abbie did was never that lucrative, not enough to live the lifestyle she craved, so he provided that for her. What pissed me off was how she took it for granted, throwing teenage strops if he sometimes put his foot down with her. You know she was working as a checkout girl when they met! But Cal never showed how he felt when she changed from the woman he’d married. He always made excuses for her cancelling at the last minute, time and time again. Oh, it’s just Abbie, as if that made it OK. But it wasn’t OK.’

  I didn’t know what to say.

  ‘That’s what I mean about people pretending things are what they’re not. Once the trust has gone, then it’s pretty much over.’ She pursed her lips and paused. ‘There’s something that has been bothering me, Grace…’ She lowered her voice and peered out to the garden. Rory and Nick were huddled around the barbecue. Callum was kicking a football to Noah, cheering at his dramatic goal-scoring celebration. ‘I thought you might be the person to ask.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yeah, it was after her funeral service, when all the flowers were laid out at the crematorium. Well, there was something that I found strange, and I haven’t been able to shift it from my mind.’ She took a deep breath. I focussed on the chip in the lip of the plate, where she had half laid out the pastel-coloured biscuits. ‘Among the big floral displays was one that looked out of place.’

  I held my breath. I knew someone would have noticed.

  ‘Cal and I ordered the arrangement for the coffin.’ She began ticking them off on her crumb-marked fingers. ‘I know her parents ordered one, that was the ridiculous garish one with those ugly spiky bright flowers. Then the people she worked with at her agency sent another one. I’m sure I read a note on behalf of some friends. But there was another, a larger one, with no note on. It looked expensive too, classic, the type that would have cost a packet.’ She looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to solve the case.

  I couldn’t admit that I’d seen it too, how unprofessional that made us look, displaying a bouquet with no note.

  ‘Oh, I’m not sure… Maybe whoever sent it didn’t want to leave one. I know some struggle finding the right words.’

  She sighed and rubbed her face. ‘You must think I’m mad. Obsessing over funeral flowers… But, like I said, some things don’t add up. Like, her death, for example. Cal hasn’t once questioned what happened to her that night. He didn’t ask any more of the police, and just accepted that she’d had a car crash. But I can’t help but think: why she was there? I’m not sure if you know that road but it leads to the back end of nowhere. Why was she in that spot that night? It feels like there’s something we’re all missing.’ She wrinkled her nose. I didn’t dare admit that I’d thought the same when I’d found myself driving past that spot on that day out with Mum.

  ‘The other thing is that I’ve heard rumours about her… since she died.’

  ‘Rumours?’ I leant closer, frowning at the expression on Mel’s face.

  ‘Between her and some guy named Owen? A model at the
same agency as her.’ Owen Driscoll. His face flashed to the front of my mind. The handsome Welsh man who I’d stood next to at her funeral, who’d almost fallen into me at her wake, looking as if he was in a real hurry to leave before it had started. They were tagged in a lot of photos on Facebook together. ‘A friend of a friend said they’d seen them out a few times, before she died, looking very close, if you know what I mean.’

  I blindly nodded along, even though I’d heard enough. I felt hot, sticky, and the smell of the food cooking was making me feel nauseous.

  ‘Maybe they were mistaken; Abbie could be very flirty when she wanted to.’ Mel shrugged and let out a deep sigh. ‘Nick thinks I’m making too much of it. He tells me off for going all Miss Marple, but when I saw those flowers something just stayed in my mind, and I’ve been meaning to ask you about it. Sorry! I hope you don’t mind me blurting all of this out. I barely know you! I bet you think I’m really bitter. I’m not, honestly, I just care for Cal.’

  ‘Of course. I understand.’

  ‘I’m probably reading way too much into this. When you spend most of your time at home with the kids all day, your mind tends to run away with itself a little.’ She laughed but it sounded hollow. ‘I just hope that once the inquest takes place, which has been delayed yet again, then we can all properly move on.’

  ‘Has Callum heard these rumours?’ I felt uneasy. Imagine what that could do to him.

  ‘No!’ Mel paused. ‘Anyway, let’s forget about it. I wanted to say thanks for all your help checking in on Cal. Knowing he has someone he can trust and turn to has given us such peace of mind.’

  ‘Oh, um, sure…’

  ‘Mummmmmyyy!’ A whining voice filtered through to the kitchen from the garden.

  ‘I’m coming!’ Mel rolled her eyes. ‘I’d better go and sort them out. Oh, and please, don’t say anything to Cal. I’m going to do some more digging but I don’t want him to hear anything unless it comes from me. Hopefully it’s a load of lies.’

  ‘Hopefully,’ I said, weakly, watching her breeze out into the garden.

  Chapter 23

  The oblong rattan outdoor table was soon full of noise as we took our seats and plates were clattered about. Nick tried to keep a wriggling Noah in his highchair, Mel ordered Callum to sort out drinks, and Finley was singing a repetitive song about smelly poo. I tried to relax amongst the chaos. As welcoming as they had all been, it was hard not to feel like I was intruding on what should have been a family celebration. I was very conscious of the fact I was sitting in the chair Abbie would have sat in.

  ‘Cheers!’ Mel raised her glass. ‘A toast. Go on, Nick. You do it. You always do them so well.’

  Nick let out a fake groan. ‘OK, OK. I’d like to say a toast to thank Mummy for this yummy food. Finn, I want you to stop dropping your tomatoes to the floor thinking we can’t see you do it, please.’ Finn let out a whine. ‘A toast to Rory for not burning the sausages.’

  ‘Nearly not burning them,’ Rory called out, then dropped his voice. ‘Dropped a few though!’

  ‘A bit of grass never killed anyone.’ Nick winked. I felt my stomach turn at the thought, and gently pushed the sausage to the side of my plate. ‘A toast to Grace for not running for the hills at the sight of this madhouse, and for introducing Callum to a lawnmower. Lord knows he needed the push.’

  ‘Oi!’ Callum laughed.

  I blushed under everyone’s warm smiles.

  ‘And finally, to Uncle Callum for putting up with us all –’

  ‘You’re the ones who have put up with me,’ Callum smiled, tilting his beer in the air.

  ‘So a toast to Callum. Happy birthday, may the next year be filled with a lot more of the good times than bad. Cheers!’

  We raised our glasses in unison; even the boys lifted up their purple plastic beakers.

  ‘Mel mentioned that you’d been back working again?’ Nick asked Callum, passing the salad bowl.

  ‘Yeah, I’m feeling a lot brighter actually. Well, let’s say I’ve been having more good days than bad ones,’ Callum said, casually spearing a new potato.

  Mel caught my eye, forcing me to look away under her curious stare.

  ‘Good, I’m glad to hear it.’

  ‘You’re doing brilliantly, mate. I can’t imagine how tough today’s been without Abbie here.’

  ‘Hear, hear!’ Rory raised a glass and winked at his best friend.

  ‘Mummy? Where’s Aunty Abbie?’ Finley asked.

  I saw Mel’s jaw flicker with tension as she plastered on a smile. ‘I told you darling, remember? She’s gone to the sky to live with Mr Bruno.’

  Rory leaned closer to me and whispered. ‘Mr Bruno was their pet cat who met an unfortunate end under the wheels of a Mazda last year.’

  Finn thought for a moment. ‘When’s she coming back?’

  ‘Well… she’s not…’ Mel flicked a look at Callum, waiting for him or Nick to step in. ‘We talked about this, remember?’

  ‘Daddy said Uncle Callum had lost her. Well, when are you going to find her?’

  I swallowed the lump in my throat at his confused expression. Nick shifted in his seat. Callum picked up his beer and took a long slow sip.

  ‘No darling, sometimes we say that word but what we mean is that the person has died,’ said Mel.

  Finn nodded along slowly.

  ‘We need to use clear language, you know this,’ Mel hissed to Nick. I was sure she was kicking him under the table.

  ‘You were the one who said Mr Bruno had gone to live in the sky,’ Nick glared back.

  ‘I want to live in the sky!’ Finn sang, making Rory laugh before Mel shot him a look and shut him up.

  ‘Oh, well, no.’ Mel looked flustered. ‘What I mean is that… er…’

  ‘Do you remember watching the film Up with me?’ Callum finally found his voice. Finn nodded. ‘Well, in the film the old man –’

  ‘Carl.’

  ‘Yep, Carl. Well Carl was sad because his wife –’

  ‘Ellie.’

  ‘Yes, Ellie had died and the little boy –’

  ‘Russell.’

  I smiled.

  ‘Yep. How do you remember that!? Anyway, Russell wanted to make the old man, I mean, Carl, happy again. Because when someone dies, like Aunty Abbie and Mr Bruno, it is very hard because they are never coming back so you feel sad. Like Uncle Callum does…’

  He glanced at Mel and Nick who were nodding along.

  ‘So, Aunty Abbie and Bruno are like Ellie?’

  ‘Exactly!’ He finished his beer.

  ‘Oh, right…’ Finley nodded. A long pause. I thought he’d grown bored of the conversation. ‘They’re all… dead?’

  ‘Well, yes, but…’

  ‘Can I have some birthday cake now, please?’

  ‘In a minute,’ Mel smiled gently.

  I caught Callum press the base of his palm to his eyes when he thought no one was looking. The conversation moved on to Rory’s new job and Abbie wasn’t mentioned again.

  *

  ‘Right then!’ Rory shouted, getting to his feet. ‘Who’s up for a game of footie?’

  I’d been talking to Nick, feeling full, content and strangely comfortable amongst this new group of friends. Mel had put Noah down for a nap and ordered me not to move a muscle when I tried to help with the washing up. Everyone moved so easily around each other.

  ‘Me, me, me!’ Finn yelled.

  ‘You sure you want to do that?’ Callum asked Rory, then turned to me. ‘Last time we had a kick about this one ended up in A&E with a sprained ankle.’

  ‘Er, excuse me! It was broken!’

  Callum threw his head back in laughter. ‘It was not! You’re such a liar. It was barely bruised. You just fancied the nurse and wanted to look manly in front of her.’

  ‘Well, she was cute.’ Rory tilted his head, lost in a memory. ‘But it was definitely broken.’

  Callum gave him a pointed look.

  Rory held his hands up. ‘OK, maybe
just sprained then. Whatever, this time I’m going to own your ass.’

  ‘Oh, is that true?’

  ‘Will you two ever stop acting like kids?’ Mel shook her head with laughter. She’d emerged wringing a tea towel between her hands. ‘Grace, when we were growing up those two would always be betting each other stupid challenges. They’re so competitive and it’s still not changed.’

  ‘Cal’s just a sore loser,’ Rory winked. ‘He never could keep up.’

  ‘Am not! Anyway, I think you’re forgetting the Battle of Bottle Smash?’ Callum raised a finger in the air. Mel groaned. ‘I won that fair and square.’

  ‘Fine,’ grumbled Rory. ‘But that was one time. Apart from that I always win. You can’t deny it!’

  ‘Probably because you still own his soul,’ I blurted without thinking.

  There was a second or two of silence.

  ‘What?’ Mel asked, confusion on her pink cheeks, at the same time as Rory slammed his palm on the table making the glass jump.

  ‘Yes! Oh my god, thank you, Grace! I’d completely forgotten about that!’

  ‘You what?’ Mel repeated, louder.

  ‘I’m so sorry! I wasn’t meant to say!’ I clasped my hands to my mouth.

  Callum had his head in his hands, his shoulders juddering with laughter at Rory’s outburst.

  ‘Rory, keep it down! Noah’s having a nap!’ Mel chided before turning to her brother. ‘Wait – Cal, you sold your soul?’

  ‘Yeah, years and years ago. Thanks, Grace, for reminding him.’

  He wasn’t annoyed. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying it.

  ‘It just slipped out,’ I blushed, mouthing sorry, trying to ignore the evil laugh that Rory was attempting to perfect.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Callum pressed a warm hand on top of mine. ‘It’s fine.’

  I smiled back at him then noticed Mel giving a knowing nudge to Nick, looking in our direction at our hands together. I pulled mine away and clasped them on my lap.

  ‘Why on earth did you do that?’ Nick asked. ‘Hope you got something worthwhile out of it!’

  ‘I’m still waiting for my Super Soaker.’ Callum shook his head regretfully.