How to Say Goodbye

by Katy Colins

  I paused to smile at Raj who gave me a big thumbs-up.

  ‘On the far wall you’ll see the names of those we hold in our hearts and minds this evening.’ I pointed at the large projector that was gently sliding through name after name of clients. ‘Please take the time you need to cry or sit silently with your grief, but also head outside and experience the light that life still offers. By living, having fun, smiling and moving forwards, we are proof that we can bear the scars we have been given and refuse to allow our pain to sink us. It’s not easy but we’re here for you and you’re here for each other. We are all together on this journey, never forget that.’

  I nodded at the sound engineer to play the calming track I’d picked for this moment, and stepped out of the spotlight. My heart was galloping in my chest and my palms were clammy from gripping the microphone, but I felt a lot lighter.

  *

  As the quiet classical music played, people lined up to add their flaming tea-light to the growing collection. I took my place. I had four candles that I wanted to light. I waved briefly to Raj and Rani who were lining up behind Deano and Julie. If I wasn’t mistaken, those two seemed awfully close. I wondered if he’d persuaded her to join a Bowie fan club. I’d already seen Marcus and his mum having a go on the fairground rides, and spotted Alma and a much chubbier Purdy outside.

  I took a spot on my own, away from a man and his wife who nodded hello as I passed. They were there to remember her dad, Colin, a man who’d loved Manchester United and real ale, who’d passed away suddenly from a heart attack. I gingerly reached out to light the first tea light, hovering a flame over the sealed wick.

  ‘For you, Ms Norris. Thank you for changing my world more than you will ever realise.’ I picked up the one next to it. ‘And for you, Henry, it’s time to say goodbye. I’m not angry anymore, I just wish I could have helped you when you needed me. I’m sorry.’

  I tried to keep a steady hand as I lit the third candle. Tears were gently falling down my cheeks.

  ‘For you, Sam, our baby boy, thank you for keeping Daddy company. He wasn’t perfect but neither am I.’

  Since coming to terms with the truth that Maria had forced me to believe, I thought of Henry in pulses, in waves, the pain lessening, but still there in memories. It would always be there. I would just learn to grow around it. I thought back to how neurotic I had been in my desperation to give others the perfect goodbye but actually how, at the end of the day, you didn’t only get one chance to say goodbye; they would never really leave you and you would never let them. With Henry and Sam and Ms Norris, I still wanted to have them in my heart and mind, despite the pain. I would never really say goodbye to them. I lit the fourth and final tea light, trying to steady my hand.

  ‘Callum, wherever you are, I hope you’re doing OK. I will be here for you whenever you need me again.’

  I stared for a minute or two at the hypnotic flames. The heat warmed my heart, which felt full and content for the first time in a long time. I used my sleeve to wipe my eyes and collect myself. There was a party I needed to get to.

  Chapter 47

  ‘I’m so glad I found you! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Gosh, there’s so many people here,’ Mel sang. She was struggling to peel off a thick scarf as she came into the warmth, just as I was leaving. I wanted to have a go on the fairground rides. ‘The boys are outside with Nick, high on sugar from the candy floss stall I imagine. We’ll be peeling them off the ceiling later. I bet they won’t want to go to bed but, oh well, a treat every so often doesn’t kill you, does it!?’ She was talking ten to the dozen. Barely pausing for air. Wait, was she nervous?

  ‘So, I said to Nick –’

  ‘Mel, are you OK?’ I placed an arm on her coat sleeve, hoping she would take a breath.

  She gave up on the tangled scarf and finally met my eyes.

  ‘Grace, I’m so sorry I haven’t been in touch. I feel awful. Cal told me everything and, well, I wasn’t sure if I should intrude. And now I’m kicking myself because of course I should have seen how you were. You two had grown really close, and when something bad happens you need people to check in with you, not give you time and space to get over it, isn’t that right? God, I’m babbling again, aren’t I?’

  I laughed gently and helped loop the chunky scarf over her frizzy hair.

  ‘It’s lovely to see you, too.’

  ‘And you, you’re looking well. You’ve dyed your hair. It suits you!’

  I hadn’t bothered going back to Andre, instead Chatty Claire had done a good job on stripping the red out and softening it, so it resembled more my natural colour.

  ‘Oh, thanks. I fancied a change…’

  ‘It looks lovely. You still doing that Grief Club thing?’ she asked. ‘I was so proud of Callum for going to that. I think it’s a great idea.’

  ‘Yep, it’s still running. I’ve missed a few sessions as things have been, well, you know…’

  She didn’t know, but nodded politely. I desperately wanted to address the elephant in the room, but I didn’t know how to bring him up.

  ‘So –’

  ‘So –’

  We both awkwardly laughed.

  ‘You first.’

  ‘I just wanted to say thank you for everything. I’m sure you’re sick of all the people coming up to you telling you that.’

  I shook my head. ‘How could anyone get sick of that? But it’s just us doing our jobs.’

  ‘No, you go above and beyond your job description.’ She paused. ‘The inquest date has finally been set, apparently there was a cockup and Abbie’s slipped through the system, which is why it’s taken them so long to sort it out.’

  My heart clenched. To be reduced to a number in a long list of files and then to be misplaced, as if denying you existed in the first place.

  ‘But…’ She sighed deeply. ‘They’ve finally got their act together and have set it for the end of December. It’s ridiculous how long it has taken but at least it won’t go into next year. We all need to start with a clean slate. Anyway, Callum will be coming back for that.’

  ‘Back?’

  She looked surprised. ‘Yeah, didn’t he tell you that he’d moved up north? Edinburgh to be precise. He’s living with Rory. You met him at his birthday? Not that I thought that was the wisest move, but actually it hasn’t been all parties and beer. He seems to be doing well.’ She sighed in relief. I thought he’d just been to stay with Rory for a break, not that he’d moved there. No wonder he hadn’t RSVP’d to tonight. ‘Getting away from it all was clearly the best thing for him, in order to try and move on. Oh, and Daniel has left too. Did you know?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Yeah, his studio is empty and no one has heard from him.’ She pursed her lips. ‘Probably for the best. I actually thought I’d come and light a candle for Abbie. To show there were no hard feelings. What she did was disgusting, but it has done my brother a favour. It has pushed him to live the life he wants, not the one she chose for them, so for that I’m grateful to her.’

  ‘You must miss him. Callum, I mean.’

  ‘Yeah, we all do. We went up to stay during the last half term, which was nice. The boys loved Edinburgh Zoo.’

  I couldn’t help myself. ‘Do you think he’ll ever come back to Ryebrook? For good, I mean?’

  ‘Maybe. He’s thinking of putting the house up for sale. Too many memories.’ She fixed her eyes on mine as if searching for something. ‘I know we’re here… but I get the feeling he’s not sure if there’s anything else to keep him here…’

  She rummaged in her bag, flinging out scrunched up tissues and Chocolate Buttons wrappers.

  ‘Before I forget. He asked me to give you this.’ She handed me a sealed envelope. ‘Whoops, sorry about the sweet wrapper stuck to it.’ I turned it over in my hands. ‘I know, a letter. How retro. I told him about tonight but he couldn’t make it all the way down in time. Right, well, I’d better go and light this then check on the boys.’

 
; She gave me cheery wave and told me to call her soon. I held Callum’s letter as gently as if it was a sparrow with a broken wing. Unsure if I wanted to know what it contained.

  Chapter 48

  I pulled my coat tight against the chilly night air. Everything had been packed up. Frank had thanked me about fifteen times for such a good event.

  Apparently he had suggestions for a summer celebration too. He’d asked how I’d afforded the night. I told him I’d made the small budget stretch, not wanting to tell him that I’d used a large chunk of my rainy day fund. I’d wanted the money to go on something special. I had five years of birthday parties I’d never celebrated and holidays I’d never been on, so it seemed fitting to spend the cash I’d squirrelled away living so frugally on this.

  A strange cocktail of emotions coursed through my veins. I thought of all the people I’d spoken to that evening, who’d told me that acceptance and moving forward were made possible thanks to the support of the people around them. Back at work on Monday would be a fresh start, a chance to help families say their goodbyes, but without giving everything I had. I needed to keep something back for me.

  The streets were quiet. I walked slowly until I’d found the place I wanted to be. The bench that Ms Norris had taken me to. The twinkling lights of Ryebrook spread out before me. It really was the best secret spot in the town, one that I knew would become our place. A place to visit and reflect on everything. I rubbed a hand against the metal plaque and closed my eyes. It was as if I could get closer to Ms Norris in some way.

  ‘In memory of Donald Norris and his big sister Edwina, who never forgot about him.’

  I’d had the tribute amended. I really hoped she would approve. I leant forward and gently brushed a gloved hand over the text. This is for you, Ms Norris.

  Winter had taken its toll and stolen the lush green leaves from the apple tree and the bushes that had once half hidden this spot. The trees had shut down for the cold snap, but would re-emerge in spring. Apples would grow and fall once more. Life carried on.

  I remember the first autumn after Henry had gone, watching the leaves die and drop to the ground, turning a crisp golden brown. It had stopped me in my tracks. Those leaves had been barely buds, full of life, when he and our son had been alive. Going through the seasons had been the hardest. They would never see the air turn crisp, auburn leaves falling, the spring sun melting the hard frost, the pure yellow daffodils blooming on grass verges. All the things we took for granted took on such a deep significance because they would never be there to witness them with me. Watching nature live and die and live again, when they wouldn’t, was something I hadn’t been prepared to deal with.

  I pulled the letter out and tugged off my mittens, carefully placing them on my lap, my fingertips tingling in the frosty air. I took a deep breath and slid a finger under the envelope seal. I imagined his fingerprints under mine, invisible but connecting. It was a sheet of handwritten A4 notepaper. I wanted to devour the whole thing, skipping forward to the end and inhaling it in one. But I forced myself to read each word, in his small cursive writing, as slowly as I could. Who knew what it would contain, or if I would hear from him again.

  Dear Grace,

  I can’t remember the last time I wrote a letter, so please excuse my awful handwriting. I needed this to come from the heart, not to be easily edited or add an emoji in place of my feelings. If you’ve got this, then Mel has done her part. I’m sure she said herself how shit she feels about not being in touch with you more. It’s been a bit of a mental time for all of us. I guess people think they know how they’ll act during the tough times, but when it comes to it you can’t control how you’ll deal with things.

  I’m living in Edinburgh with Rory. You met him at my birthday party. He’s away with work a lot so I spend my days going on runs around the city, eating too much shortbread (cliché, I know) and generally taking care of myself. I’ve also stopped drinking. Have you ever been here? There’s this amazing spot at the top of Carlton Hill where you can see the whole city spread before you. You would love it.

  I’ve even got a counsellor, or a therapist as the Yanks would say. Shane. He’s this big, fat, balding Scotsman. He swears quite a bit and has a dodgy obsession with deep-fried haggis but he’s a good guy. He encourages me to talk about everything and anything.

  We talk about you a lot. I really hope you’re OK and not beating yourself up over what happened with Henry. You did nothing wrong, please remember that.

  I’ve also been busy with work. Remember the Stratton Estate, I told you about it before? Well I’m really enjoying putting the finishing touches in place. It’s only an hour on the train from here, so I’m able to go there when I’m needed. I hope it will be finished in the spring. And that’s thanks to you.

  In fact, it’s all down to you. Me being here, getting help from Shane, getting space and perspective to realise that what happened wasn’t anyone’s fault. Mel would still say that fate played a part, but I’m learning that fate isn’t this plaster you can apply to every wound.

  Shane is probably right when he tells me there’s a lot of history, not just with Abbie, but with my own parents, that I need to figure out and come to peace with. It’s for the best if I do this on my own and at my own pace. That’s why I’ve not been in touch. It’s not that I don’t think about you, Grace, I do. You may not even want anything more from me. You might get this letter and wonder what I’m going on about but I hope that you feel the same. I believe you did.

  You wear your heart on your sleeve like that.

  Take care Grace.

  Amazing Grace.

  Callum x

  The sound of a siren echoing through the town brought me back to reality. I could no longer feel my backside. I was crying without realising. His words blurred under teardrops. My heart swelled with hope. We both needed time and time was a healer after all. The paper trembled between my shivering fingers. My breath curled from my chattering teeth. I felt like I was waking from a deep sleep.

  I folded the letter and put it back in my pocket, my fingers clumsy from the cold. I stared at my trembling hands and realised it was the first time they weren’t red raw from cleaning. I rubbed my upper arms to try and warm up, and put my mittens back on. My feet began to find feeling once more as I made my way back to my flat. I knew that I’d see him again. I would just have to be patient. If I could wait five years for a man who could never come back to me, then I could wait a little longer for one who would. I had enough to keep me busy until then. More time for fun and friendship and less for cleaning and worrying. I felt renewed and excited for the person I would be when he returned. Not trying to be like Abbie or anyone else, but to be me. A better, happier version of me.

  I glanced at my watch. I’d told Raj that I would help him rehearse, early tomorrow morning, for the Talent Show taking place in the evening. All of the Grief Club members would be there supporting him too. He’d bought a new suit, a god-awful shiny deep purple thing that Rani had embellished with black felt coffins and a garish sequinned skull on the back. It was hideous and he loved it. Enough people avoided talking about death, so why shouldn’t he try to bring some light humour to what was inevitably going to happen to all of us? Isn’t that what all the best comedians did? Forced us to look at the tough things and see the funny side?

  I reached the main road to cross. Despite it being late there were still a few cars, two taxis and a night bus trundling down the road. I paused, and looked only twice before crossing. Well, you’ve got to live a little, haven’t you?

  Acknowledgements

  This novel may be all about Grace but it’s also inspired by events and people I never imagined I would ever cross paths with in real life.

  A special mention to Jackie at Cruse Bereavement, who taught me that grief doesn’t have to be suffered in silence, and heartfelt thanks to Nicki Whitting at Co-op Funerals, who handled my father’s service with dignity, respect and patience. What you and others in the funeral indus
try do is beyond selfless, bringing light to those in darkness.

  I scrapped a whole novel in order to write How to Say Goodbye as I felt I had to share Grace’s story. A daunting task when you’re pregnant and looking after a toddler but, thanks to some awesome people, I was able to do it all and keep my sanity (just!). A huge thank you to Jo and Rob Huggins for being A-star stand-in parents as I escaped to writing retreats, picking me up when I felt overwhelmed and generally being incredible good souls. Also, thanks to the yummy mummies who inspire me to keep juggling those balls – Claire, Emma, Kirsty and superstar Jen.

  Thanks as always to my supportive family, with a special shout-out to my aunty Jennie for emergency childcare, the in-laws (including Emily - welcome to the fold!) and my incredible mum for being my rock during the darkest days.

  I’m so incredibly lucky to have a fab bunch of writers to call on for support, inspiration and a good old moan when things aren’t going to plan. The Book Camp crew are now like sisters from other misters – thanks especially to Kirsty and Cesca for being early readers, and Izzy for providing many Classic FM lols. Shout-out to Charlie Haynes at Urban Writers for knowing that being able to switch off and focus on writing, never far from a slab of cake, is my happy place.

  Thanks to the most wonderful team who have worked hard to polish this novel so it shines – in particular, Juliet Mushens and Clio Cornish. Trust me, with these women on your side you can do anything. Also, a big thanks to the talented HQ crew for the gorgeous cover and tireless backstage support, and the CaskieMushens team for their expertise and book cheerleading skills.