by Judi Curtin
The death has occurred of Jeanie Cottrell-Herbert. Peacefully in Beaumont Hospital, Dublin. Sadly missed by her dear friends, and her devoted dog, Grover. She will always be fondly remembered for her sculptures, which she donated to local parks, for the benefit of the community. No flowers please – if you wish, donate to Animal Welfare, a cause close to Jeanie’s heart.
May She Rest in Peace
‘Oh!’ whispered Beth. ‘She’s dead. Jeanie is dead. That has to be what Jessica was telling Graham.’
I’d never once met Jeanie. I’d never even heard of her till that day – so I couldn’t figure out why I felt so sad. The words seemed so final, almost shouting out at us from the bright white computer screen. I could feel tears coming to my eyes, which was totally weird.
‘It doesn’t mention any family,’ I said. ‘No husband or kids or brother or sisters or cousins or anything. How lonely is that?’
‘At least she had friends, that’s good isn’t it?’
‘I guess,’ I said. I love Beth, and my other friends, but I couldn’t imagine a life without my mum, and dad, and my cousins.
‘And she had a dog.’
‘Yeah, but – I don’t want to sound mean or anything, but if your dog’s got to be mentioned in your death notice …’
‘Oh, no,’ whispered Beth. ‘Look at the date.’
‘OMG! Jeanie died two months ago.’
‘And I guess Graham never knew until he read that letter – he definitely doesn’t read the death notices.’
‘He must have always dreamed that one day the two of them would meet again – and now that’s never, ever going to happen.’
‘He’s lost his chance.’
‘Oh, Beth, when I saw how sad he was, I really, really wanted to help him – and now that’s impossible. No one can help him with this.’
‘But we have to do something.’
‘Like what?’
‘Let’s call over to him tomorrow. Maybe chatting with us will help him to forget about Jeanie – even for a small few minutes.’
‘Or maybe he could talk to us about her. That could help too.’
I thought back to the time when my dad left. My mum went crazy for a while, and for ages and ages I felt like my life was over – and the only thing that helped was telling Beth how I felt. Sometimes I sat in her house for hours, telling her the same stupid things over and over again – and each time she listened like she’d never heard them before.
‘Er, Beth … I’m sorry if this sounds totally weird, but I don’t think I ever told you how good it was to chat to you that time when my dad went away. When I was talking to you, I could kind of believe that life might get to be OK again. So … er … thanks.’
She smiled. ‘You’re welcome – and since we’re doing this, did I ever tell you how much it helped to chat about my mum, after you gave me that lovely birthday letter she wrote for me? Thanks for that too.’
I hugged her. ‘It’s good to have friends.’
‘For sure – so how about we try to be friends to Graham?’
Chapter Six
‘Back so soon?’ said Graham next day. ‘To what do I owe this honour?’
Well, we read your letter, and then we found her online, so we know your best friend died, and we’ve come to cheer you up.
This so wasn’t the time for telling the truth.
‘Oh, you know,’ said Beth. ‘Molly and I were just passing, and …’
‘We’d love a cup of tea,’ I said, sounding like one of Mum’s boring friends. Were we going to go on to say that we’d do anything to get away from the ironing?
Graham didn’t seem to mind how lame we sounded. ‘Come on in,’ he said. ‘It’s always lovely to see you – so please visit whenever you like – and if I run out of blooming tea, well I’ll just have to go visit Chang again, won’t I? You go through, and I’ll put the kettle on.’
‘It’s gone,’ said Beth.
It was the first thing I’d noticed too. Graham’s photo album was still on the living room table, but there was no sign of the letter.
‘Do you think he knows we read it?’ I asked.
‘Nah. He thinks we’re nice kids.’
‘We are nice kids. We just …’
‘Hey, Moll, what are we going to say about Jeanie?’
‘I don’t know – it’s so awkward, because we’re not supposed to know that she’s dead.’
‘Maybe if we just casually mention her, he’ll tell us what happened between them?’
‘Good idea. How about you start?’
‘Why me?’
‘Because he’s your uncle?’
‘But why does that mean–? Oh, hi, Graham.’
Graham passed the cups around, and then shared out some weird green sweets he’d picked up in a market in Turkey. Then he sat down with a big sigh.
I watched Graham as I sipped my tea and sucked my sweet (that tasted a bit like shampoo). Graham still looked sad.
Being sad made perfect sense, but how was Graham ever going to get over Jeanie if he wouldn’t talk about her?
I looked at Beth and tried not to smile, as she slipped a half-sucked sweet out of her mouth and into her pocket. I so wasn’t putting a gooey sweet into my pocket, but while Graham was busy stirring his tea, I spat it into a pot plant.
‘She died, you know,’ said Graham suddenly.
‘Who?’ I asked, like I had no idea who he could possibly be talking about.
‘My old friend Jeanie. She died a few months ago – and I never even knew. Once upon a time, the two of us were so very close, and then …’
He stopped talking. Beth and I looked at each other. I could see she was as embarrassed as I was. I really, really wanted to talk about stupid stuff like maths homework, and Beth’s dad’s pathetic jokes – anything except Jeanie, but I knew that wasn’t right. It was time to be brave.
‘That’s so sad,’ I said. ‘Did you have a fight with her back in the day or something, Graham?’
He looked at me for a minute, and I couldn’t make out if he was really angry, or really sad.
‘Nothing like that,’ he said in the end. ‘There was never a single cross word between Jeanie and me.’
‘So how come …?’ began Beth.
Graham smiled a sad smile. ‘You two aren’t going to let this go, are you?’
‘Talking’s always good,’ I said. ‘And since Beth and I are here …’
Graham settled down as much as he could on the lumpy couch. ‘It was a very long time ago, and I’ve never discussed this with anyone, but you’re right, maybe it’s time to talk about all of this.’
Beth and I looked at each other, then we settled down to listen to Graham’s story.
* * *
‘Jeanie and I first met when I was ten. My father worked in their garden, and at the weekends I helped him out. At first Jeanie stayed away from me – I suspect her parents had told her to. But little by little we got to know each other. Then one day, Jeanie came to me in tears, telling me about a kitten who was stuck on the garage roof. She wanted to climb up and rescue it, but her mother nearly had a conniption at the very thought of that. Instead, I climbed up and rescued the kitten.’
‘That’s so sweet,’ I said.
‘Well, the kitten wasn’t very sweet,’ said Graham. ‘It was a dirty, spitting ball of fury, with sharp claws and weeping eyes. Most girls I knew would have run a mile, but Jeanie cradled it like it was the most perfect thing she’d ever seen. As we brought the kitten back to its mother I could see that Jeanie was a very special girl – she was both gentle and brave – and all I wanted in the world was to be her friend.’
‘Awww!’ said Beth. ‘So cute.’
‘Anyway,’ continued Graham. ‘Jeanie went to boarding school, so I only saw her in the holidays. She’d write to tell me when she was coming home, and when she got here, I’d be waiting.’
‘Where’s here?’ asked Beth. ‘Did you live around here back then?’
‘I lived
over on The Green,’ said Graham, ‘and Jeanie lived in Orchard House.’
‘Where the fancy hotel is?’ I asked.
‘That’s the place,’ said Graham. ‘That’s where she grew up – but her family moved from there many years ago now.’
‘That’s so cool,’ I said. ‘You must have had heaps of fun playing there.’
‘Well, it wasn’t quite like that,’ said Graham. ‘I only went inside once, and Jeanie’s parents made me feel so unwelcome, I had no desire to repeat the experience – well, to be honest, I was too scared to go back inside – Jeanie’s parents seemed terrifying to me.’
‘That must have been a problem for you and Jeanie?’ said Beth.
‘Not as much as you might think. We didn’t spend any time at my house either – Jeanie and I preferred to be outside.’
This was sounding like a happy-ever-after story – except Beth and I knew for sure there wasn’t going to be a happy ending.
‘I was just thirteen that last summer we spent together – the summer of 1960,’ said Graham. ‘Jeanie’s thirteenth birthday was in July, and her parents forced her to have a party with her posh boarding school friends. I wasn’t invited, but Jeanie saved me a huge slice of cake, and afterwards she told me about the hideous frilly dresses her friends wore, and how upset one girl got when she spilt a few cake-crumbs on her skirt. Jeanie was an excellent mimic, and the two of us laughed for a long time at her impersonation of another girl who was afraid of spiders.’
‘Jeanie sounds funny,’ I said.
‘She was,’ said Graham. ‘She was so … alive. She was a little younger than me, but she was tall and tough. She could run as fast as me, and she was far better at swimming. Her parents probably thought I would lead her into mischief, but in fact the opposite was true. Jeanie was the one who was always daring me to run faster, climb higher. But then …’
He stopped talking and I was afraid he wouldn’t say any more.
‘But then,’ he continued. ‘As the weeks passed that summer, and as July turned to August, things changed. Jeanie began to act strangely.’
‘Like how?’ asked Beth.
‘It’s hard to explain. At the time I couldn’t figure it out.’
‘So give us an example of stuff she did,’ I suggested.
‘At first Jeanie stopped doing her drawings,’ said Graham. ‘She finished one of me that she’d been working on, and then she wouldn’t do any more. She said drawing was stupid and that she’d never had any real talent anyway.’
‘But you said––’, began Beth.
‘She had a very special talent,’ said Graham. ‘There was no doubt about it.’
‘I’d love to see that drawing of you,’ I said. ‘Have you still got it?’
‘I very much wish I had,’ he said. ‘Jeanie promised to give it to me as a parting gift when she went back to school, but … well that never happened.’
‘What else was strange, that summer?’ asked Beth.
‘It’s difficult to explain,’ said Graham. ‘It was as if Jeanie was losing her nerve. She became cautious, and timid – like her adventurous spirit was starting to evaporate. One day she threw her bike into the shed and said that cycling was boring.’
‘Maybe she was just growing up?’ I suggested. ‘It happens, you know.’
‘Indeed,’ said Graham. ‘I can see it before my very eyes with you two – but where Jeanie was concerned, there was something else going on – the change happened too quickly, and was too pronounced.’
‘Any idea why she changed?’ I asked.
‘Not really,’ he said. ‘I teased her about it. I said she was getting too like her posh friends, but she denied it. She said she’d never end up like them.’
‘Did you believe her?’ asked Beth.
‘I wanted to,’ he said. ‘But I wasn’t so sure. I felt she was becoming a different person. I thought I was losing her, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I simply wanted to things to stay the same forever. Maybe that’s why—’
And then, just when it looked like we were getting somewhere, my phone rang.
‘Have you forgotten we’re going to town to buy new hockey jackets for you and Beth?’ said Mum. ‘We need to leave in ten minutes.’
She was right. Graham’s story was so interesting, I’d totally forgotten about town and hockey and everything else.
‘Mum sounds mad,’ I said. ‘We’ve got to go. Sorry, Graham, but …’
‘That’s OK,’ he said. ‘I’ve kept this story to myself for fifty-something years. Another few days won’t hurt.’
‘But we can come back and talk about it some more right?’ asked Beth.
‘Please?’ I said. ‘Otherwise it would be like reading a book and finding that the last few pages were missing.’
‘Or like when Dad turns off the TV in the middle of the best movie ever,’ said Beth.
‘Come back anytime you wish,’ said Graham. ‘And we can continue our little chat. And don’t worry, next time I won’t force feed you with Turkish sweets. They don’t seem to agree with young girls, though no doubt the sugar will give my pot plant a little lift.’
‘OMG,’ I said totally embarrassed. ‘I’m so sorry. It was …’
‘Don’t worry about it at all,’ he said. ‘Now run along, and I’ll see you when I see you.’
Chapter Seven
‘You were telling us about how Jeanie was changing that summer when you were thirteen,’ I said.
It was a few days later, and Beth and I were back in Graham’s place.
‘Ah,’ said Graham. ‘So I was.’
‘And?’ I was trying not to sound impatient.
Graham gave a big sigh. ‘I’m trying to tell the truth about what happened, but I fear you two girls will think less of me when you hear it.’
‘That’s never going to happen,’ said Beth. ‘All this happened like a thousand years ago – and you were still a kid.’
‘And we know you’d never do anything mean,’ I added.
‘That’s very sweet of you,’ said Graham. ‘Wait and hear my story though, before you decide. When I’m finished, maybe you’ll think differently of me.’
‘No way!’ said Beth. ‘But if you don’t get on with the story, we might go ahead and die of boredom or something.’
‘OK, OK,’ he said. ‘If you’re all sitting comfortably, I’ll begin. As I said, Jeanie had been acting strangely, and I was afraid of losing her. It was a lovely sunny day, one of the best we’d had that year. It was already halfway through August, and I had a horrible feeling that things were coming to an end.’
‘How do you mean?’ asked Beth.
‘It’s hard to explain,’ said Graham. ‘I was old enough to understand how seasons come and go, but I couldn’t shake the thought that Jeanie and I would never again share such a perfect summer. It was …’
He closed his eyes, and for a minute it seemed that he wasn’t going to say any more – and there was no way I was going to let that happen.
‘So what happened that day in August?’ I asked.
Graham opened his eyes. ‘Jeanie was listless and just wanted to lie in the sun,’ he said. ‘But I persuaded her to come to our special spot in the woods. We collected blackberries, but even though Jeanie usually competed with me, rushing to fill her basket first, that day she gave up when she’d barely picked a handful of fruit. It seems stupid now, but at the time I was irritated and cross.’
I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the young Graham, confused and afraid of losing his best friend.
‘So what happened next?’ I asked.
Graham didn’t say anything for a long time. When he did speak, it was in a flat, dead kind of voice, like he’d been practising what to say.
‘I suggested that we climb our favourite tree – something Jeanie had always liked doing. She didn’t want to at first, but I … encouraged her. I said she was turning into a coward like her posh friends, and that soon she’d be afraid of her own shadow.’
&nb
sp; ‘I’m guessing she wasn’t happy about that,’ said Beth.
‘At first she pouted a bit – and then, a second later, it was like a miracle. She tossed her hair and laughed, and in that instant it was as if the old Jeanie had come back to me.
‘I’m not afraid,’ she said. ‘I’m not afraid of anything. I’ll go first and I’ll climb higher than we’ve ever climbed before. You wait here and watch me.’
‘So Jeanie climbed the tree?’ said Beth.
‘Yes,’ said Graham. ‘She climbed the tree – like she had a hundred times before – when she was almost at the top she clung to the last substantial branch and shouted down to me. “It’s glorious up here,’ she said. ‘I feel as if I’m flying. Come join me – there’s room for both of us.”’
‘And?’ I said.
‘And in that moment everything in my world was good again,’ said Graham. ‘It was as if the sun had been hiding behind a cloud, and now it had re-emerged and was bathing me in its beautiful warmth. Jeanie was happy and wild and brave. She wanted me to be with her, and there was a whole future of adventure and friendship waiting for us.’
It all sounded wonderful – except for the fact that Beth and I already knew that things weren’t going to turn out the way Graham hoped.
‘So I started to climb,’ said Graham. ‘I couldn’t wait to get close to her … and I was concentrating on finding good foot and hand-holds, so … so I didn’t even see what happened. Maybe a branch broke, or maybe she lost her grip – all I knew was that Jeanie made a small, surprised cry, and then she was tumbling past me. I leaned out and grabbed her, but the momentum was too much and her hand slipped from mine – and she continued to fall, and fall and fall, until she hit the ground with a soft thud.’
‘That’s so scary,’ said Beth.
‘I went into a complete panic,’ said Graham. ‘I scrambled down from the tree, and ran to where she was lying. She was still and pale, almost as if she were asleep. I touched her arm, but she didn’t move. I ran to the nearest house and they called an ambulance. I ran back to Jeanie, and stroked her hair and whispered to her. It felt like a lifetime, but it was probably only minutes before the ambulance showed up. Someone had called Jeanie’s parents, but the ambulance arrived before they got there.’