Fireworks to Thailand

by J. R. Bonham

  “OH NO!” she screamed, but no one heard. She touched him again but there was nothing. No movement and no sensation. Just coldness.

  “No! Don’t leave me!” she shouted at him.

  Just then the words of her daughter came flooding back to her memory. Words said many years before. “Has he left you yet?” Louise had said spitefully. Those words were ringing in Jan’s ears like a barbed arrow, this minute in time.

  ‘What now?’ she asked herself. ‘What on earth am I going to do now? What happens next? I’ve never been in this position. What do I do?’ She was in such a state of shock that she sat on the bed next to Mike and started to cry.

  “Oh, Mike! Whatever happened to you?” she asked him, but he was unable to answer her this time. She continued to sit on the edge of the bed and watched him looking so peaceful.

  ‘Right,’ she thought when she had composed herself. ‘I must be sensible about this and be practical. Be proactive. That’s what you would tell me, isn’t it?’ It was like he was giving her advice from beyond.

  She went downstairs, found the phone and dialled 999.

  “I… I think my husband is dead!” she began. “What do I do?”

  “Was he under a doctor before he died, do you know?”

  “Not for anything serious. He had a new hip several months ago and was having trouble with it, does that count? Oh, and he’s had prostate cancer but that is cured.”

  “You will need to get a doctor for the death certificate. They will organise everything for you and the coroner may have to be involved if he hadn’t seen a medical doctor recently. Then you might need to contact the undertakers who will remove the body.”

  ‘I need help with this. I can’t do it alone. I’ll call Dee.’

  She picked up the phone. ‘What’s her number? My brain’s gone blank. She’s only next door. Shall I go over? Is it too early?’ she wondered. ‘Must get dressed first. Yes, that’s what I must do. Thanks, Mike, for inspiring me. You’ve always inspired me to do the right thing. I love you.’

  She threw on some clothes and rushed next door. She rang the bell several times and eventually Bill came to the door with a towel wrapped around his middle.

  “Where’s the fire?” he shouted impatiently. Jan burst into tears and babbled.

  “It’s Mike,” she said through her tears. “He’s… he’s dead!”

  “What! Oh hell! I’m so sorry. Do you need some help?”

  “Yes, p… please,” was all she could manage. Dee had been listening from upstairs and she came rushing down and hurled her arms around Jan.

  “Don’t worry, Jan. I’ll get myself dressed and come over. I know exactly what to do,” said Bill, manfully. Those words were like manna from heaven to Jan. It was just what she wanted to hear, someone who could take over this nightmare from her.

  “Oh, thank you so much. I’ve already dialled 999 and they said I need to call the doctor. Can you do that for me?” Jan asked Bill. “I’m too shaken up. Apparently the police might be involved too when it’s a sudden unforeseen death.”

  “Meanwhile, come in and I’ll make you a nice cup of sweet tea, it’ll help with the shock,” Dee was trying to be helpful but Jan hated sweet tea. She wouldn’t say anything, she’d just have whatever was offered.

  “Tell me what happened,” Dee enquired while she put on the kettle to boil. “You must feel terrible, I can imagine.”

  “It was just such a shock,” Jan started. “I went into Mike’s bedroom. We’re still sleeping separately. But I was just going to prepare the bed in our bedroom for him to come back today. I went in,” she continued, “and… he was just lying there, I thought he was still asleep. He sometimes sleeps quite late because he’s had bad nights lately with his hip being so painful,” she explained.

  “Oh my God, how terrible for you to find him there like that,” said Dee sympathetically.

  “You can say that again. I don’t know what I could have done to help him. He must have died quite early on because he’s quite cold now.”

  “There’s obviously nothing you could have done.”

  “Oh Dee, what am I going to do?” Jan said sadly. “I’m all alone now,” she said as an afterthought.

  Bill arrived at that moment, all dressed.

  “I’ll ring the doctor’s surgery now and then I reckon we should get in touch with some undertakers for further advice, once the doctor has been to assess the situation. There are some on the High Street. I’ll look them up in the telephone directory in readiness.” Jan thought Bill was marvellous for taking over like this.

  “Thank you so much.” Jan felt much relief already.

  Bill had it all in hand before Jan had finished her cup of tea.

  “The doctor’s going to come now. He will give you all the information you need when he comes,” Bill announced.

  “Oh, thank you so much. I know I would have stuttered if I had spoken to the surgery.”

  “You wait here and when we see him arrive, I’ll come over with you,” Bill imparted.

  “Yes, that’s a good idea,” Dee agreed. “You don’t want to go over there alone right now, do you?”

  “No. You’ve both been so kind, thank you so much.”

  “It’s what anyone would have done,” Dee confirmed.

  Fifteen minutes passed and a car started to back up Jan’s drive. The three neighbours all rushed out to meet the doctor as he got out of his car. Bill began the conversation and took control, for which Jan was forever grateful.

  “Good morning, Mr Jones?” Dr Keagan began. “I believe there has been a sudden unforeseen death here?”

  “Yes,” said Bill. “Mr Mills is dead in his bed. Mrs Mills found him this morning. We will ring an undertaker to take the body when it’s right to do so. We just need guidance from you.”

  Jan let the doctor in and Bill went upstairs to the bedroom with him. He examined the body and confirmed his suspicions.

  “It looks like a cardiac arrest. Sudden heart attack. I looked at Mr Mills’ notes at the surgery before I left and all looks in order. You can call the undertaker and they will remove the body and give any more details to Mrs Mills. I will arrange for the death certificate.”

  Mike’s mother had had a sudden heart attack and this was on his medical history.

  Bill called the undertaker while the doctor made copious notes of his own.

  Jan stayed downstairs with Dee. A little while later and a ring on the doorbell made Jan jump. It was the undertaker and his assistant.

  “Good morning, Mrs Mills? Mr Pugh, the undertaker.” He put out his hand to shake hers. “I won’t say ‘it’s good to meet you’, under the circumstances. I see the doctor has arrived already. That makes things easier.”

  “Please, call me Jan,” she shook his hand as it was offered. She ushered them into the house. “Come upstairs.” She went first and urged them to come to where Bill was talking to the doctor. Jan saw that Mike was exactly as she had left him, with the covers pulled back, in the foetal position. She wondered then why she would think he would be anywhere else.

  “Thank you,… Jan,” said Mr Pugh. “You can leave the rest to us now. Please, would you leave? I’ll talk to you again a bit later.” He nodded to the doctor and Bill, who took Jan downstairs.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” she offered the undertakers as an afterthought as she was ushered downstairs.

  “No, thank you, we’re fine,” Mr Pugh declined, eager to get the job in hand done.

  “What about you, Doctor?” she offered. “Tea, coffee?”

  “No, I’m fine, thank you very much. I’ll leave you in the capable hands of the undertakers.” With that, he let himself out of the front door. “I’ll let you have the death certificate as soon as possible.”

  Jan took Bill and Dee into the sitting room. They sat there in silence for what see
med like an eternity. Eventually, they heard scraping noises down the staircase. They all knew what that meant, but no one said anything. Jan cried and Dee went over to comfort her.

  “Mrs Mills? Er, Jan? Please accept my sincerest condolences. Here’s my card.” Mr Pugh had come back into the house after depositing a body bag into the hearse.

  “Please do contact us as soon as you are able to and we will make all the arrangements for you. Did Mr Mills make a will? He might have made a note to say whether he’d like a cremation or burial, or of any special hymns or anything else. Do you know?”

  “Yes, we made wills a few years ago,” Jan confirmed. “I know where they are. I’ll bring them with me when I come and see you. Thank you for your prompt attention.”

  With that, Mr Pugh and his assistant drove off in their hearse with its cargo.

  “Are you going to be all right today? Do you want us to keep you company?” Dee asked Jan.

  “I’ll be OK,” Jan replied. “Thank you for being so kind to me, I much appreciate it. I must go up in the attic and look for the wills.”

  “I’ll come over later and see that you’re OK.”

  Bill and Dee went home. Jan went to bed and cried herself to sleep. It had all been too much for her. She decided she would look for the wills later on.

  She knew that Mike had always been very meticulous with paperwork and the wills were exactly where she thought he would have put them.

  She knew that Mike wanted ‘Lilac Wine’ by Elkie Brooks at the funeral. They had talked at length of other music they wanted at their funerals, but it was never mentioned in his will. Jan racked her brains to think of other music he had mentioned when suddenly she remembered he wanted a piece called ‘Lily of the Valley’ by Cuff Billett.

  The undertakers were very helpful and made all the arrangements perfectly. It was going to be a church service with cremation later.

  As soon as Vicky heard the terrible news, she rushed around to Jan’s house.

  “Are you OK?” she asked.

  “I’m bearing up, thanks. Now I’ve got over the shock of it all.”

  “You let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  “I will.” Jan was grateful to her good friend.

  Jan, with the help of Dee and Bill, arranged everything. After the service, there would be refreshments at the local church rooms for tea, coffee, wine and a finger buffet provided by the Women’s Institute. Dee was part of W.I. and she knew lots of people who could help.

  John told Jan that he and Vera were just off on holiday and so wouldn’t be able to attend the funeral. He said he was so sorry but he would be in touch as soon as they got home. There was no way he could cancel and it was only ten days away.

  “That’s OK,” said Jan. “You enjoy your holiday. I’ll be pleased to see a friendly face when you get back. Come and stay for a few days, you’ll be very welcome.”

  Jan received so many cards of sympathy that she ran out of space to know where to put them all. And flowers. For her! ‘Why me?’ she asked herself.

  The day of the funeral arrived. Jan wondered how she was going to get through it, all alone. By herself. With no family member by her side.

  She followed the coffin with a small wreath which she put on top of the coffin as it was placed by the altar. She brushed away a tear as she walked to the front row and sat down on her own. She wasn’t aware of the people in the church, it all seemed a blur through her tears.

  She was aware of a man and woman entering her front pew and the woman sitting down beside her, taking her hand in hers. Jan didn’t look up straight away but she was aware that she knew this person very well. Was it Louise, with Steven? She didn’t dare to hope. Had they come to share their mother’s grief with her, after all this time? Had they forgiven her?

  Jan eventually looked up. It was Marian, with Kai. Marian smiled and gripped Jan’s hand in friendship. Jan felt a warmth come over her. She was happy that it was her best friend forever, Marian – but sad at the same time that it wasn’t Louise and Steven.

  Throughout the service, Marian kept a hold of Jan’s hand.

  At the end of the service, Jan and Marian followed the coffin with Kai one step behind. It was only then that Jan noticed how many people had packed the church with people standing at the back.

  “Mike would have been proud if he had seen the number of people who turned up to pay their last respects to him,” Jan told Marian. “He had always joked with a friend that whoever went first, the remaining one would go to the funeral. After that, the remaining one, whichever that might be, would have to ask someone else for an agreement of reciprocal funeral attendance. Somehow they both worried that no one would be there but actually Mike need never have worried, seeing the amount of people here.”

  That friend, true to his word, did turn up. Much to Jan’s amusement.

  Chapter 58

  After the funeral, things went back to normal for everyone except Jan. Marian and Kai had stayed at a local B&B but they told Jan they couldn’t stay for long.

  “Thank you so much for seeing me through the funeral. If it hadn’t been for you I would have been all alone. That is so kind of you,” said Jan.

  “Well, we just happened to be in London on a fleeting buying visit for the shop, when I got your email,” said Marian. “I told Kai I had to be there for you. I’m so glad I did.”

  Next day they left for home, Thailand.

  John and Vera came to stay after their holiday but the previous few days had gone by in a blur to Jan.

  “How are you?” Vera hugged Jan, concerned for her sister-in-law.

  “I’m OK now. I’ve felt a bit depressed and haven’t gone out much. I’d make you a cup of tea but there’s no milk left, I’m afraid. I haven’t felt able to go to the shops.”

  “Don’t worry about that, we’ll get some shopping in for you. Shall I have a look in the kitchen and see what you need?” said Vera, ever the one to be supportive and yet practical.

  “If we’d lived a bit closer, I would have been able to do a lot more for you,” John explained.

  “Oh, that’s OK, you’re here now.”

  They stayed for a few days but were moving on to visit their daughter, Natalie, who was about to produce their fourth grandchild.

  ‘What on earth am I going to do now?’ Jan wondered to herself the next day. ‘I shall just have to take one day at a time and see how it goes.’

  “How are you?” Vera rang Jan a few days later.

  “I… I’m not quite sure. I don’t really know what I’m doing, just surviving I guess. I just feel so depressed. So alone.”

  “Are you eating?” Vera enquired.

  “I’ve nearly finished what you bought the other day. I don’t really feel like going to the shops or seeing anyone. Just been emptying the fridge and freezer, but I really don’t feel hungry at all. Don’t feel like eating.”

  “Yes, but you must keep your strength up.”

  “I will but I just feel so miserable all the time. And lonely. But don’t worry about me, you’ve got enough to do.” Jan tried to show Vera that she was coping, even though she knew she wasn’t.

  “Well, we do worry about you. I shall ring you again in a few days.”

  “Thanks, bye for now.”

  Jan put the phone down and sat in the chair. At that time she wished it was her that had died, then she wouldn’t feel so lost and incapable. She had no recollection of the last few days or what she had done. She can’t have just done nothing. But maybe she had.

  Next day she thought, ‘What am going to do today? Must rally myself. Get dressed and go out? No, not today. Maybe tomorrow.’

  Next day was similar, ‘What am I going to do with myself today? Same as yesterday? No! I must pull myself together. If I go out, people will avoid me because they don’t know what to say to me and I don’t
blame them. But I must get some shopping in otherwise I’ll starve. That’s a good thing because I really don’t want to be here anymore! Maybe I’ll go to the shops this evening, and no one I know will be there, hopefully. I just don’t want any confrontation. Or sympathy. I know I’ll cry, for sure, if anyone is nice to me. Oh hell! I don’t know what I’m talking about. Talking gibberish. Maybe that’s through hunger pangs.’ She didn’t feel like going to the shops that evening. She just went to bed instead and cried.

  Next day she was feeling really quite hungry and the fridge was completely empty now. ‘I really must get some food in. I know, I’ll drive to shops somewhere else then I won’t bump into anyone. If I do, I shall just have to steel myself and not cry when they’re nice to me.’

  That evening she drove to the next village and popped into the small grocers and bought some milk and bread. ‘The staff of life, bread and milk. That’ll do for now. I’ll eat stuff out of the freezer until I can do a proper shop in a few days.’

  “How are you?” It was Vera again the next day and Jan was feeling a lot better than when she rang a few days before.

  “Oh, you know! I’m getting there. I actually went to the shops yesterday and I’ve told myself to get a grip. I’m feeling a bit better for some food, so you were right.”

  “Do you want any help with anything else?” Vera was bursting to tell Jan of Natalie’s new son but felt she should ask about practical things first.

  “No, I don’t think so. I shall get myself together in a day or two and will be less negative hopefully. D’you know, we were going to book a special holiday on the day he died! It was to celebrate us being together twenty-two years! Twenty-two is significant, for me anyway because I was in Bristol for twenty-two years, then Devon for twenty-two years and now twenty-two in Surrey!”

  ‘God, I’m only 66, I should have plenty of life left in me. I must pull myself together.’