by Annie Lyons
‘Where is Grandpa now?’ asks Alfie.
‘Well,’ starts Rachel, feeling her voice wobble.
‘He’s up in heaven,’ says Will with certainty.
‘Oh, where’s that?’ asks Alfie, keen to know more.
‘Up there,’ says Will pointing towards the ceiling.
‘Oh, up there,’ says Alfie, eyes wide with wonder, looking upwards.
‘Everyone all right in here?’ says Steve, climbing the stairs. ‘How are you feeling, Rach?’ he add. Rachel shrugs, her face a picture of despair. Steve has been kind and supportive over the last few days but his hugs and comfort have been more like that of a friend than a husband. Rachel can’t really blame him and she doesn’t have the emotional energy to face it at the moment.
‘Daddy, daddy! Guess what?’ shouts Alfie, full of excitement.
‘What is it, little man?’ asks Steve.
‘Grandpa is in the loft!’ he cries, pointing up at the ceiling.
‘No he’s not you dum-dum,’ declares Lily wandering in. ‘He’s in heaven, which is way, way up in the sky, even further than the moon.’
‘Oh,’ says Alfie sounding disappointed. ‘When can I see him again?’
Rachel looks at Steve.
‘Come on,’ says Steve. ‘Let’s leave Mummy in peace. We can go downstairs and talk about it.’
‘No, it’s OK,’ says Rachel. ‘Stay. Please. Let’s talk about it now.’
‘OK, if you’re sure,’ says Steve.
Minutes later, all five of them are tucked up in bed, talking, laughing and crying about Edward. Rachel feels warm and loved and sad. You were right, Dad. You were so right, she thinks. She pulls her family to her and doesn’t want to let go.
Diana wheels the trolley down the biscuit aisle and prays that she doesn’t bump into anyone else she knows. She’s already seen Brian from the golf club and Beryl who used to work in the school office. She held herself together when she told them that Edward had died but actually ended up feeling guilty at the distress it caused them. Their smiling faces dissolved into shock and despair, their brains desperately casting round for something to say. They couldn’t believe that he’d only died yesterday and yet here she was, doing her shopping as if nothing had happened. How many of the people you pass in the street, thinks Diana, are carrying round the tragic events of their lives, like little, hidden boxes of pain. She knows it’s absurd to be doing this today, but she had to get out of the house. Everything in it reminds her of Edward and Emma is doing her best, but it’s like having her own Greek tragedy chorus wailing in the corner. Diana scans the shelves looking for the Crinkle Creams. She notes that they are on offer.
‘Oh look, that’s good. We’ll have a couple of those, shall we?’ she says, turning expecting to see Edward and then realising how it will be from now on. She breathes in sharply, feeling her hand go to her mouth. She wills herself to go on breathing and her chest heaves with short breaths that become deep sobs. She holds the trolley to steady herself.
‘Mrs Darcy? Are you all right?’
Diana blinks at the concerned voice, seeing the face of a woman around Rachel’s age staring back at her.
‘I’m sorry –’ she begins.
‘It’s all right,’ says the woman. ‘I’m Sue. Rachel’s friend. We met at the twins’ birthday party. I’m so sorry to hear about Edward.’
‘Oh Sue, yes of course,’ says Diana, immediately warming to this sunny woman. ‘I was just having a little moment.’
‘Of course,’ says Sue. ‘When my dad lost my mum, it used to hit him at the strangest times. He once got invited to join a group of mothers for coffee when he got upset in his local library. He meets them every week now. Listen, I’ve nearly finished my shopping and my son’s at pre-school. Would you like to go for a coffee?’
Diana looks at Sue and is experiencing that life-enhancing feeling you get from the kindness of strangers. ‘That would be lovely,’ she says with gratitude.
Emma hears her mobile ring from the bathroom and dashes downstairs. Her first thought is that it might be Richard and her second thought is that she’s a fool who has learnt nothing. She checks the caller ID and answers.
‘Ella? Hello. How are you?’
‘I’m fine. Miranda told me about your dad. I’m so sorry, Em.’
‘Thank you. It’s all such a shock,’ sniffs Emma.
‘Of course it is. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. Listen, if there’s anything I can do, you know just to call, don’t you?’
‘Yes, thanks Ella,’ says Emma feeling suddenly weary.
‘And don’t worry about work, OK?’
‘No, OK.’
‘All right, I’ll let you go because I expect you’re really busy but take care and call me if you need me. Anytime. OK?’
‘OK. Thank you,’ says Emma, ending the call and sinking into a chair. She hears the front door open and Rachel’s voice.
‘Hello?’
Emma drags herself from the chair and wanders into the hallway.
‘Hey, Em. Are you OK?’
‘No, not really,’ says Emma, starting to cry again.
‘No, sorry. Stupid question,’ says Rachel hugging her. ‘Did Sue bring Mum back?’
‘Yes, she’s upstairs resting. She didn’t say much. Do you know what happened?’
‘She had a bit of moment in the biscuit aisle apparently.’
‘Well, I told her not to go, but she wouldn’t listen. You know how she can be.’
‘Yes, well, I can understand why she wanted to get out of the house,’ says Rachel, glancing at Edward’s coats hanging in the hallway.
‘Do you think we should move them?’ asks Emma.
‘No, I think we should let Mum decide when the time’s right.’
‘Mmm OK. Do you want a cup of tea?’ asks Emma.
‘I’m a bit tea-ed out to be honest. That seems to be what you do when tragedy hits. Drink tea.’
‘‘Tis the British way,’ says Emma half-smiling.
‘I could do with something stronger to be honest,’ says Rachel walking into the dining room and opening up the drinks cabinet.
‘Cherry brandy?’ giggles Emma, feeling like a disobedient child raiding their parents’ booze supplies.
‘No. This,’ says Rachel pulling out a very acceptable thirty-year-old single malt.
‘That was Dad’s favourite,’ says Emma, feeling unsure.
‘And that is why I am going to toast him with it. Want one?’
‘All right then. With ice please.’
Rachel looks at her sister as if she’s just asked for a dog turd. ‘You always were a bit weird.’
They make their way to the living room with their drinks. The sun is shining brightly through the window, illuminating the pictures on the mantelpiece. Emma picks up the photograph of her parents on their wedding day.
‘They were a handsome couple,’ she says, her voice breaking slightly.
Rachel smiles and takes the picture. She raises her glass. ‘To Edward Darcy,’ she declares.
‘To Edward Darcy,’ says Emma, clinking her glass against her sister’s. She flops down into a chair.
‘So,’ says Rachel. ‘Tell me the truth about Martin. What’s going on?’
‘Only if you tell me about Steve.’
‘All right. You first.’
‘Well –’ says Emma, unsure of where to begin. ‘You know my new author? Richard Bennett?’
‘The dishy one you mentioned in the pub?’
Emma thinks back to that night and feels as if that was a different life, as if she were a completely different person. ‘Yes, him.’
‘Well? What happened? Did you sleep with him?’
‘Rachel!’
‘What? You didn’t sleep with him?’
Emma rubs her temples. ‘No, but I wanted to.’
‘Well, that’s hardly a crime,’ says Rachel, pondering her own misdemeanour.
Emma looks at her sister. ‘I fell for him in a bi
g way. He flattered me, paid me attention. We liked the same books, films. That kind of thing. We just clicked somehow.’
‘More than with Martin?’ says Rachel nodding, understanding.
‘Different.’
‘So how come you and Martin have split then?’
‘Richard came round and declared his feelings for me.’
‘So?’
‘Martin was there.’
‘Oh. Sounds like something from one of your poncey novels. Did he challenge him to a duel?’
Emma looks at her sister in surprise. It’s as if she’s found the final piece of the million-piece jigsaw that is Richard Bennett. Emma shakes her head at the revelation.
‘You’re right. It was like the plot of a bloody novel and I’m the flawed heroine falling for it like an idiot.’
‘Oh, don’t be too hard on yourself. Happens to the best of us,’ declares Rachel.
‘Oh yes. So what happened to you then? Who turned your head?’
Rachel looks ashamed. ‘My next door neighbour.’
‘Tasty Tom?’
Rachel smiles. ‘The very same.’
‘Well, I don’t blame you but at least nothing happened, right?’
‘Of course not,’ says Rachel a little too quickly.
‘Rachel?’
‘We had a moment. Nothing happened. We kissed,’ says Rachel. ‘I sort of thought Steve was having an affair.’
‘Steve? Are you sure? I can’t think of anyone less likely to be unfaithful than Steve,’ says Emma.
It’s Rachel’s turn for an epiphany. ‘Yeah, I know. I guess Dad was right. Sometimes you can’t see what you’ve got.’
‘Until it’s gone? Well, it looks as if we’ve both fucked things up, doesn’t it?’
‘Certainly does, little sis, but I fully intend to sort out my mess. What about you?’
‘Dunno. I can’t think about it now. Mum needs us and we’ve got stuff to do. I’ve made a list. Let’s crack on shall we?’
Rachel puts her arm round her sister. ‘OK, but you can phone Rosie.’
‘Deal. You can phone Granny Liz.’
Rachel screws up her face. ‘You drive a hard bargain but all right.’
When Diana comes downstairs half an hour later, the girls are surrounded by papers and busy with lists and phone calls. She watches them unnoticed, a feeling of pride creeping over her. Rachel looks up.
‘Hi, Mum. How are you feeling?’
Diana sighs. ‘All right. How are you getting on?’
‘OK. We’ve phoned nearly everyone on your list.’
‘Did you speak to Rosie?’
‘Emma did.’
Emma pulls a face. ‘It was all I could do to stop her coming over.’
‘Well, I’m glad you managed it,’ says Diana with a wry smile. ‘Will you stay for dinner?’
The girls make positive noises and Diana is pleased and thinks how much Edward would have enjoyed this. She goes to the kitchen and starts on dinner in order to stop herself thinking about how much she misses him.
Chapter 25
Rosie looks at the dining table loaded with assorted finger foods and tuts.
‘Vol au vents? How ghastly. No one serves vol au vents these days,’ says a voice next to her. Rosie glances over to see a frowning elderly woman, dressed in a fitted midnight-blue suit. The woman looks at her and Rosie holds out her hand.
‘Rosie Temperley,’ she says, and then in a confidential whisper, ‘and I was just thinking the same thing.’ The woman smiles, satisfied that she has found an ally.
‘It’s my daughter, you see, she never did have much taste, apart from her husband. Dear, dear Edward, so tragic. How she ever managed to win him and keep him, I’ll never know.’
Rosie is delighted. ‘Oh, you’re Diana’s mother. It’s so lovely to meet you, and yes, it is an absolute tragedy about darling Teddy. I feel completely devastated by his loss,’ she says. ‘He and I were very close, old friends. I’ve known him a lot longer than Diana,’ she adds.
‘Really?’ says Diana’s mother. ‘I’m Elizabeth by the way. It’s good to meet you too.’
Rosie smiles warmly at her new friend. ‘And do I detect that your divine suit is Chanel?’
‘Of course,’ says Elizabeth plainly. ‘I rarely wear anything else during the day.’
‘Are you OK, Grandma?’ asks Emma joining them. ‘Hello, Rosie.’
‘Please, darling, don’t call me Grandma. It’s so ageing. Call me Granny if you absolutely must or Lizzy.’
‘Darling girl!’ cries Rosie, pressing Emma to her bosom. ‘How are you keeping? You must be in pieces!’
Emma sniffs and nods. ‘I just can’t believe he’s gone.’
‘I know, dear heart, I know.’
‘Great Grandmama?’ says Lily, sidling up to Elizabeth and tugging at her skirt. The old lady winces and looks down at Lily as if she has just discovered the source of a particularly unpleasant smell.
‘Ah, it’s Lileth, isn’t it?’
Lily stares back at her as if she is the stupidest person on the planet. ‘No, duh! My name is Lily. Now, do you want to come and play a game or not?’
Elizabeth looks scandalised at the suggestion and Emma realises she needs to help. ‘Come on, Lils, I’ll play with you,’ she says taking her niece by the hand.
‘What an impertinent child,’ remarks Elizabeth.
‘Yes, I think Rachel’s three are quite a handful,’ observes Rosie.
‘Well, it’s young women these days, isn’t it? They want it all, don’t they? It just isn’t possible. I have told Diana time and again how much she’s spoilt those girls but does she listen?’ says Elizabeth popping one of the much-maligned vol-au-vents into her mouth.
‘Would you care for a seat?’ asks Rosie, preparing to sit down and indulge in her favourite sport: criticising Diana.
‘But why did Grandpa have to die?’ asks Lily again.
‘Well, his heart wouldn’t work properly,’ says Emma, wishing they could talk about something else.
‘And where did you say he was?’ asks Lily.
‘Well, I think he’s up in heaven watching down on us.’
‘But we’ll never see him again?’
‘No.’
‘But why?’
‘Well, it’s like this, Miss Lily,’ says Martin joining them. ‘Grandpa’s body died, so that’s like his clothes, and what was inside him, like a spirit, has gone up to heaven so he can keep an eye on you and Will and Alfie and make sure you’re OK.’
Emma catches his eye, mouthing a heartfelt ‘thank you’.
‘Well, I think it’s bloody unfair,’ says Lily.
Martin kisses her on the forehead. ‘Do you know what, Lils? So do I,’ he says.
Lily clings onto him. ‘I really like you, Martin. When are you going to be our uncle again?’ she asks.
Emma holds her breath. ‘I already am your uncle and I always will be,’ he says.
‘Yay!’ shouts Lily and runs off to find her brothers.
Emma smiles nervously at him. ‘Thank you for that. And for coming. I didn’t realise you were here.’
‘I nipped in to the back of the church. I had to come and pay my respects. I was very fond of your dad.’ Emma can feel the tears welling in her eyes. Martin looks at her. ‘Hey, come on, Em, come here.’ He pulls her to him and they stay like this for a while. Martin is the first to pull away. ‘I should go.’
‘Please, don’t. Oh Martin, I’m so sorry. I’ve messed up everything.’
He sighs. ‘You won’t find me disagreeing with you, Em.’
‘Can we at least talk about this?’ she pleads.
Martin looks around the room. ‘I don’t think this is the right time, do you?’
Emma sniffs. ‘I guess not. I am sorry I hurt you though.’
He nods. ‘I’m going to go and say goodbye to your mum and Rachel now. Take care, Em,’ he says, turning on his heel.
Emma watches him go and wishes that her father
were here to tell her what to do.
Rachel observes her mother move around the kitchen, her face set in concentration, her lips mouthing words like ‘sausage rolls’ and ‘need more crisps’. She looks over at Sue who shrugs helplessly.
‘Mum, are you OK?’ says Rachel, trying to sound matter of fact. Her mother looks at her with that blank glaze that characterises her appearance since Edward died.
‘What? Oh yes, I’m fine darling. I’m just trying to remember where I put the olives,’ she says. Rachel stands alongside her and peers into the cupboard.
‘Here they are, Mrs Darcy,’ says Sue, reaching behind her.
‘Ah, thank you, Susan, and please, call me Diana.’
‘Listen, Mum. Do you want to come and stay at ours tonight? The kids would love to have you over,’ says Rachel.
‘Oh, well that’s very kind of you, but I’m sure I’ll be –’
‘Diana!’ calls a voice from the living room. Diana doesn’t seem to hear until her mother appears at the kitchen door. ‘Diana! What are you doing hiding in here?’
‘Oh, sorry, Mother. I was just fetching some more food,’ says Diana.
‘Oh for goodness sake, Diana, you can’t hide out here all the time. People want to see you and honestly, what are you wearing? You know I can’t abide off the peg. I really think you need to come and see my hairdresser too and for heaven’s sake touch up that make-up!’
‘Sorry,’ says Diana without a hint of fight. Rachel feels a surge of sympathy for her mother and utter indignation at her grandmother’s insensitivity.
Just at that moment, Alfie bursts through the door. ‘Granny, Granny, Granny! Can we have some more of these crisps please!’
Elizabeth tuts loudly but Diana smiles and Rachel is proud of her. ‘Of course, my darling,’ she says taking the bowl from him.
‘They were Grandpa’s favourite,’ says Alfie, his face a big round moon with two vast blue, wondering eyes staring up at her. He frowns and screws up his face. ‘I miss Grandpa,’ he says plainly. Diana stares at him for a moment. Rachel and Sue hold their breath. Then she sinks to her knees and pulls his tiny, perfect frame to her.
‘So do I, Alfie. So do I,’ she says through a veil of desperate tears.