The Brilliant Life of Eudora Honeysett

by Annie Lyons

  “Philip’s such a handsome boy,” said Eudora. “You must be very proud.”

  “I am, but I keep looking ’round every time you call him Philip. Everyone calls him Phil.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine, Dora. You weren’t to know. Anyway, how is your mother? She seems a little confused.”

  Eudora pursed her lips and tried not to sound defensive. “She’s fine. Life’s not been easy for her.” She’d never told anyone about what her mother did. She had hoped she might confide in Sylvia today, but something was telling her to keep her counsel.

  Sylvia inclined her head toward Eudora as she nodded with sympathy. “And what about you now, Eudora? How is life?”

  “It’s . . .” Eudora hesitated. “It’s fine. It was my twenty-fifth anniversary of working at the bank this year. They gave me a carriage clock.”

  “Fancy,” said Sylvia in a teasing tone that Eudora didn’t care for. “And what about living here?”

  “It’s fine. Mum and I get along just fine.”

  “Really?” Sylvia raised her eyebrows.

  Eudora felt her hands ball into fists. “Mum needs me.”

  “But what about you, Dor? What about what you need? You were so happy when you met Sam again. Why didn’t you move away with him? What on earth stopped you?”

  Eudora wasn’t sure if it was the judgmental note in Sylvia’s tone or her endless boasting about their perfect life in Canada—her four-bedroom town house, their summer cabin by the lake, Ken becoming the youngest CEO in the history of the company—but something made Eudora snap.

  “I had no choice. Mum needed me, and Sam had to move away so he could see his children. The two situations were incompatible.”

  “But you gave up your happiness, Dora. Again.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Dora. This is me. I know you.”

  Sylvia jumped as Eudora banged her fist on the table. “No. You don’t know me. Not anymore. You know about society life in Toronto and coffee and soda! I haven’t seen you for sixteen years, so you don’t have the first idea how I feel. Now, I would appreciate it if you would mind your own business, Sylvia. I have made my choices and I stand by them.”

  Sylvia held up her hands. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”

  “I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

  Sylvia and Philip only stayed an hour longer. Eudora was relieved when she announced they would be leaving. It’s one thing to know in your heart that you have remained frozen in time while the world moves on but quite another thing to be told it by the person you trust most.

  Sylvia hugged Eudora before holding her at arm’s length and staring into her eyes. “Take care, Dora, okay?”

  Eudora saw the pity in her eyes and knew this would be the last time they ever saw each other. “You too.”

  As soon as they’d left, she picked up the plate holding the last of the Black Forest Gateau and threw the cake into the bin. Some things simply weren’t to be.

  Chapter 17

  The phone call arrives out of the blue. Eudora hasn’t been giving her application much thought lately. A month ago, it had preoccupied her every waking minute: the right to choose the ending to her story. In recent times, however, the clamor of death has been drowned out by the noisy distraction of life.

  Eudora is listening to the radio, draining the last drop of tea after a late breakfast, her mind set on that day’s crossword. Normally, she would be heading out the door for a swim, but she’s been unable to muster the energy over the past week. She is doing her best to ignore a creeping apprehension that she may not be able to keep to her rigorous daily routine for much longer. It’s been a tiring summer. She’s sure the fatigue will pass.

  Eudora starts as the insistent chirping of the telephone interrupts her peace. She wonders if it might be Stanley. Their evening calls have become more sporadic of late. Last night, Eudora didn’t get to the phone in time. Stanley’s message lacked its usual warmth:

  “Eudora? Are you there? Just checking in as usual. Call me if you want to speak. Bye.”

  She had tried to call but the phone line had been engaged so it wasn’t as if he was desperate to speak to her. He’d probably phoned Sheila instead.

  Eudora picks up the receiver on the third ring and answers with a casual air.

  “Hello?”

  “Eudora?”

  Eudora sits up straighter in her chair as she recognizes the voice. “Oh. Hello.”

  “Hello, Eudora. This is Greta Liebermann. Have I telephoned at a bad time?”

  “I have a moment in my packed schedule,” says Eudora.

  The doctor hesitates.

  “That was a joke, by the way,” she adds.

  “Ah yes, English humor, a useful tool when facing difficult subjects.”

  “Quite.”

  “Well, I’m sure you know why I am calling.”

  Eudora’s hands begin to tremble. “You’ve made a decision about my application.”

  “Exactly. Thank you for sending your forms and all the information. I have now considered everything in full and have consulted with my colleagues.”

  It’s a refusal, thinks Eudora, clasping her hands around the receiver to lessen the tremors.

  “I want you to know that I have thought very hard about this.”

  Please. Just tell me.

  “Having spoken to you and Petra and considered everything you told me, and having read your medical reports and living will”—the doctor pauses as if announcing the winner of a talent show—“I have come to the decision that we are able to help you, if it is what you really want.”

  “Oh.” Eudora knows this is a rather understated reaction after what seems like a lifetime of waiting and hoping, but it’s all she can manage as she tries to catch hold of her feelings. Her heart is beating so fast she feels as if it might burst from her chest. She squeezes her hands tight to stop the trembling. The doctor is still talking. Eudora knows she must listen, but all she can think is:

  Finally. Someone has heard me.

  “You must understand that we will keep asking you and checking right until the end. You can change your mind at any time, and of course you don’t have to go ahead at all. It is your choice. Always.”

  The end. Your choice.

  Eudora knows that this “deny death because we’re really going to live forever” world would find the very notion depressing, but she doesn’t. It’s the answer to a question she has been asking for the longest time.

  She exhales. “Thank you.”

  “So, Eudora, I can appreciate that this is a lot to take in. To be honest, this is the start of a big decision for you. Do you have any questions for me now?”

  “What happens if I decide to go ahead?”

  “We would make all the necessary arrangements for you to come over—flights, accommodations, and so on.”

  “And how long . . . ?”

  “If you decide to proceed, you can come in a matter of weeks.”

  Weeks. It’s a dizzying thought.

  “But I want you to think hard about whether this is what you want. Nothing is decided. Talk to Petra or phone me. We are here for you. Please remember that.”

  “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

  “Take care, Eudora. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye.” Eudora sits, receiver in hand, unsure of what to do next. Her hands have stopped shaking but her heart is a drumbeat to her thoughts.

  This is it. This is it. The thing you want. An unexpected gift. Low-hanging fruit. Take it. You should take it. This is it.

  The very idea gives her a surge of unexpected energy. She hauls herself to her feet.

  “I must go for a walk to clear my head,” she tells Montgomery, reaching down to stroke him. The cat nuzzles her hand for a few seconds before stretching out his body, yawning and falling back asleep.

  As Eudora makes her way down the front path and ont
o the street, she spots Maggie pushing the pram through her own front gate. “Eudora! I haven’t seen you for a while. How are you?”

  Trying to contemplate my mortality in peace, thinks Eudora. “I’m quite well, thank you. How are you all?”

  “We’re pretty good, thanks. Rose seems to be enjoying school, which is obviously a big relief, and this little madam,” she says, pointing toward a beaming Daisy, “actually slept through the night last night.”

  “That’s good to hear. You look a lot less tired, if I may say.”

  “Thank you. Anyway, I’d better get her inside. Let’s have tea soon, shall we?”

  “That would be lovely,” says Eudora, relieved that Maggie has gifted her an excuse to be on her way. “See you later.”

  Eudora keeps her head down as she walks. She doesn’t want any more distractions today. She falls into a slow but steady rhythm as the realization of her conversation with Doctor Liebermann sinks in. The coin has landed.

  Heads, you win, Eudora. This is what you want, isn’t it?

  Isn’t it?

  She doesn’t remember walking into the shop until she inhales the smell of fresh bread and realizes that she’s staring at a packet of French Fancies.

  “It’s too tempting sometimes, isn’t it?” says a voice beside her.

  Eudora turns to see Audrey. Her face is smiling but tired. Eudora recognizes the empty look of a hollowed-out soul, worn down by grief. “Hello, Audrey. How are you?”

  “Lonely,” blurts out Audrey, surprising them both. “Sorry. You’re not supposed to say that, are you? You’re supposed to pretend you’re fine.”

  “Yes, you probably are, but I’m not always sure that’s the best way,” says Eudora.

  Audrey nods. “I come here every day because the ladies behind the registers are so friendly. Apart from the group, I hardly ever see anyone. And sometimes I’m fine. I can potter around at home, listen to the radio, or do some gardening, but . . .” Her voice trails off as her face falls. “It’s the mornings and the evenings I can’t bear with no one to talk to. My son says I should get a pet.” She snorts with derision.

  “Maybe you should,” says Eudora. “I’ve got a cat. He’s a little bad-tempered but I’m quite fond of him.”

  “More reliable than a human, eh?” says Audrey.

  “More constant perhaps,” says Eudora.

  “I know it’s the grief talking and I won’t always feel like this, but you just wonder what the point is sometimes, don’t you?”

  Eudora fixes her gaze on Audrey. “Yes,” she says. “Unfortunately, you do.”

  A few days later, Eudora is finishing the crossword and hoping Rose might pop in after school. She hasn’t seen her or Stanley since their trip to the café. Despite relishing the quiet, Eudora misses the nonsense. Her only constant is Montgomery, who has scarcely left her side of late. He is still highly demanding when it comes to food, but rather than prowling the neighborhood, he prefers to seek her out, stretching long on the sofa, dozing, or watching her through one narrowed green eye. He’s even stopped biting her.

  “Maybe you’re mellowing in your old age, eh?” she says, scratching under his chin. He juts out his jaw in approval. After twelve years, Eudora finally understands all the fuss about the constant companionship of pets. She must tell Audrey about this when they next meet.

  The room darkens as if someone has dimmed the lights and a low growl of thunder echoes in the sky. Montgomery looks up in alarm.

  “It’s all right,” Eudora reassures him. “Nothing to worry about.” Montgomery fixes her with a look as if he understands before his eyes grow heavy and he falls back to sleep. Eudora can hear the excited chatter of schoolchildren on their way home. She makes her way to the window and peers out through the net curtains.

  “Heaven help me,” she mutters. “I’m becoming one of those old people who stare out at the world hoping it might notice them.”

  Still, the steady stream of children of all shapes and sizes running and skipping along the street proves to be an enjoyable spectacle. The bruise-colored sky and whipped-up breeze is making many of them excitable at the prospect of a storm. Small fingers point to the sky in surprise as another flash of lightning brings a distant rumble of thunder and squeals of delicious fear. Eudora smiles at their wonder.

  It’s not long before she spies Rose, ambling along the street, but to Eudora’s dismay she is arm in arm with Jada. Eudora isn’t surprised to notice that Jada is doing all the talking while Rose hangs on her every word. As they approach Eudora’s front gate, she hears Rose interject.

  “That’s where Eudora lives,” she says, nudging her friend.

  Jada looks toward Eudora’s hiding place behind the net curtain and pulls a face. The girl can’t see her, but it feels to Eudora as if the contemptuous expression is aimed directly at her. Eudora takes a step back. “That old lady?” says Jada in disgust.

  “She was young once like us,” says Rose in a small, brave voice, which makes Eudora long to hug her.

  “Whatever,” says Jada. “Let’s go to yours. I want to see the baby.”

  “Okay,” says Rose, glancing back toward Eudora’s house before turning to follow her friend.

  Eudora watches an empty polystyrene container toss in the wind as the storm takes hold, ripping the leaves from the trees. She draws the curtains and puts on the lamps in a bid to make everything cozier.

  “Come on,” she says to Montgomery. “Let’s have some tea and watch that program Rose likes.”

  Eudora has decided that Richard Osman is a fine man: intelligent, articulate, and extremely witty. She enjoys spending half an hour in his company but has to admit that it’s not as much fun as when Rose is there, shouting out the answers. Despite the fat raindrops pelting the windowpane, Eudora can still hear the sound of life next door: Daisy crying and Rose shrieking with laughter at something her new friend has said. Normally, Eudora would have found this reassuring, but tonight it serves only as a reminder of her solitude.

  At six o’clock, the newsreader with the kind face delivers the headlines. As soon as Eudora is satisfied that nothing has changed, that there is still no one in charge able to make a sensible or competent decision, she switches it off and makes her way to the kitchen to prepare dinner. She’s not particularly hungry but knows she must eat and opts for a tin of soup. Cream of tomato seems to offer the correct level of comfort tonight. Eudora is emptying the can into a pan when there is a brilliant white flash followed by a vicious crack of thunder, which shakes the whole house, sending Montgomery darting past her ankles and out through the cat flap.

  “Don’t go out, silly cat!” she cries before realizing there is no point. He’ll no doubt find a bush to shelter under until he feels safe enough to return inside. She turns back to her soup-stirring. The next sound Eudora hears is a screeching of tires. She switches off the stove and hurries to the front door as quickly as she can, even though in her heart she knows and fears what she will see. A large, expensive car has been left at an alarming angle in front of Rose’s driveway, its lights shooting a beam into the darkness, illuminating the darts of rain. The driver’s door has been left flung open. Eudora can hear a woman’s shaken voice, talking to someone on Rose’s doorstep.

  “It came out of nowhere. I had no time to stop!”

  “Come inside. I’ll go and see,” says a voice, which Eudora recognizes as Rob’s.

  “Daddy? Is it Monty? Is he . . . ?”

  “Wait here, Rose,” says Rob. Eudora watches as he walks toward the road. She sees his body shrink despondently as he discovers the cat. Very carefully he takes off his coat and scoops Montgomery into his arms. As he turns, he registers Eudora standing at the door. His expression says everything. “Shall I bring him in?” he asks. Eudora gives the smallest nod.

  “Daddy?” cries Rose. “I want to come with you!” She darts out into the street and follows him up the path into Eudora’s house.

  Rob carries Montgomery into the living room. “
Where shall I . . . ?”

  “On the sofa, please. He likes it there,” says Eudora, a choke catching in her throat.

  “I could call a vet or we could take him in our car . . . ?” suggests Rob. Eudora gives a small shake of her head.

  She feels Rose take hold of her hand as they stand back and gaze at Montgomery. His breathing is rapid with increasingly longer pauses in between.

  “He’s dying, isn’t he?” says Rose through her tears.

  “Yes. He is,” whispers Eudora. “But he’s not in pain. I remember this happening to a cat on my uncle’s farm during the war.”

  “I’m very sorry,” says Rob.

  “Thank you,” says Eudora.

  “It was Jada’s mum. He ran out in front of her car,” says Rose in an accusing tone.

  “It’s not her fault,” says Eudora. “It’s no one’s fault.”

  Rose wraps her arms around Eudora’s middle and sobs. “Why is life so sad sometimes?”

  Eudora doesn’t try to suppress her tears this time. “Perhaps it’s the universe’s way of making you appreciate the happier times.”

  “That makes sense,” says Rose. She turns to Eudora after a while. “Maybe we should take turns telling Montgomery what he means to us, so that he knows.”

  “I think that’s a very good idea, Rose,” says Eudora, exchanging a glance with Rob. “You go first.”

  Rose kneels in front of Montgomery and strokes his head. “You were the best cat ever. Thank you. I love you and I will never forget you.”

  She turns to Eudora, who approaches and takes a seat next to him. “Montgomery. Monty.” Her voice falters. Rose reaches out and touches her on the arm. Eudora takes a deep breath and continues. “I’m going to miss you. Who is going to bite me now and try to trip me up on the stairs?” She sighs. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. Life won’t be the same.” She rests a hand on his head. He lets out a small shudder and is still. “Goodbye, old friend,” says Eudora. “I’m glad you didn’t suffer.” And with that, Eudora Honeysett knows exactly how her story will end.