Arden

by Nick Corbett

  “I’m seeing it too,” says Simeon. “This is what the city could be like… with grace.”

  “It’s the old Forest of Arden,” says Grandad, grasping for an explanation. His knuckles turn white as he grips the parapet, tightly.

  Now another reality becomes evident. Coming into focus is a multitude of randomly dotted council tower blocks. Swathes of the city are grey, uninspiring. They can hear the traffic again. Joe turns to Simeon.

  “What’s happening? Where’s the vision gone?”

  “This is reality for now, Joe. The result of too much vain striving.”

  Joe recalls the verse David spoke to him, before he left for university, all those years ago:

  Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.

  He turns to David. He wants to remind him of it, but David is talking to Grandad. He is pointing over the city.

  “Look! There’s the football stadium, now that’s hallowed ground.” Then he winks. “They need all the prayers they can get.”

  Joe looks perplexed, how can he talk like that? Hasn’t he just shared in the awesome vision?

  Grandad suddenly flinches, turns away quickly. Joe looks at him, concerned. Grandad’s body is shaking, as if he is weeping. Joe moves over to him, places a hand upon his shoulder.

  “Are you okay? What’s wrong Grandad?”

  Grandad flinches again. His face is horribly contorted, turning blue. He is in agony.

  “Grandad!” The hairs on Joe’s arms stand on edge.

  “Grandad! What’s wrong with you?”

  “Oh my God, I think he’s having a heart attack!” gasps David. “Quickly, loosen his collar! Help him to lie down!”

  Joe and Simeon help Grandad to lie on the dirty, cold, lead roof. They loosen his clothes. Simeon takes off his hoody top and gently places it under Grandad’s head, as a pillow. David is shouting into his mobile phone.

  “I need an ambulance, immediately!”

  Grandad stares into Joe’s eyes; sharp intakes of breath.

  “Am I dying?” he gasps.

  Joe doesn’t know what to say, tries to cover his own terror.

  What should I say? Is he dying?

  A seizure grips hold of Grandad. He rolls into a foetus position, moaning, grimacing. There is froth around his lips. His ribcage heaves, up, down. He is gasping for breath, making dreadful noises. His body is straining to pump air into a broken chamber.

  “Lie flat!” instructs Simeon. He administers first aid, pressing down firmly upon Grandad’s chest. Joe catches another look from Grandad’s frightened eyes. A wave of compassion overwhelms him. He so loves this old man.

  Simeon is speaking but his words are only half heard. Joe’s one concern is to affirm Grandad, in case these really are his last moments. The rest of the world vanishes into inconsequence. Joe rests a hand upon his grandad’s forehead. Grandad manages a broken smile. He looks into Joe’s bright blue eyes. Mustering all of his remaining strength, he speaks.

  “I’ve…prayed for you…every day, Joe”

  Tears are streaming down Joe’s face. He places a tear-drenched palm onto Grandad’s forehead. Grandad tries to say another word, can’t get it out, terrible gurgling in his throat. Joe desperately turns to Simeon.

  “Would you pray for him, now?”

  David is crouched down beside them.

  “We’re losing him, you should give him the last rites, Simeon.”

  Simeon panics. “I haven’t been ordained, yet.”

  “Ugh? Does that matter?”

  Simeon moves closer to Grandad, takes his hand in his own.

  “Do you want to be anointed, so that you’re ready to meet Christ? Do you accept him as your saviour?”

  Grandad’s throat is still gurgling, terribly.

  “Yes,” he says.

  Simeon reveals a tiny vial of oil. He uses it to mark a cross on Grandad’s head. He prays over him.

  “Through this holy anointing, may the Lord in his love and mercy help you with the grace of the Holy Spirit...”

  Joe and David bow their heads. Simeon finishes.

  “Everything’s going to be alright now, he’s in the safest place.”

  Grandad lies motionless upon the lead roof, eyes closed. There is a strange calm, silence. Joe lies beside his grandad, bodies touching.

  “You’re the best grandad I could have had.”

  Grandad’s face takes on a different appearance. His bright green eyes open and stare up at the blue sky. He looks serene; the years fall off him. Then his eyes begin to fade. A boat drifting away from these shores, he utters his last words.

  “God bless you Joe, my dear grandson.”

  “Don’t go Grandad!” Joe rests his face on Grandad’s chest. Simeon places his hand on Joe’s shoulder.

  “The Lord is taking him now, Joe.”

  12 Friends

  Joe and Hannah walk around the slender tree trunks, towards the sandy beach. The early May sun is warm on their faces. The pool is a wonderful prospect before them. It takes their breath away, just as it did when they were eighteen years old. Hannah, now thirty-five, is still stunningly beautiful. Her skin is as smooth as a peach, without blemish. Her long blonde hair shines in the sunlight.

  High above them, cotton clouds are sailing by in a bright blue sky. The pool is like a great reflecting mirror. At its edges are bright green reed beds, dotted with yellow flowers. Beyond the reeds, the forest rises. It forms an unbroken, rolling canopy, like a coarse green curtain draped around the pool. Pine trees soar high, some like spires, others like cupped hands - greeting the sky. At the far side of the pool, Arden’s canopy dips low, forming a window on infinity. On the horizon, huge cumulous clouds, heavenly mountains. The vision of clouds, reeds and trees is intense; all reflected in the mirror of the pool. A light breeze blows across the water, ripples dart this way and that, and everything melts into a glittery gold.

  The dark bags under Joe’s eyes reveal lack of sleep. Grandad’s passing on has brought back childhood memories, the loss of his parents, feelings not properly dealt with. It was Hannah’s idea to visit the pool. She thought the beauty of the place would bring Joe healing. He’s been looking troubled. A few weeks have passed since the funeral, but Joe is still upset. He tells Hannah about Grandad’s last moments, and then his lower lip begins to wobble. He finds a patch of grass amongst the rough ground, sits down. He stays there for a while, head bowed. He looks like a schoolboy, clutching his knees under his chin. Hannah remains beside him, silent. Her presence is comfort enough. He just needs her to be with him, to wait in the silence. At last, Joe speaks, in a faltering voice.

  “We’ve all played a role in saving Elias, you know?”

  Hannah sits down on the grass beside him, bodies touching. “How do you mean?”

  “Luke and his dad, their contacts, they sailed the yacht.”

  “That’s true.”

  “But you were key to it all, Hannah. Without you, Elias wouldn’t have got out of the camp. You sacrificed your job for him.”

  Hannah lowers her head, smiles. “Even Archie’s helped Elias to settle in.”

  “How’d you mean?”

  “He’s taken him to all the pubs.”

  Joe manages a smile. He gets up to his feet and helps Hannah up. He leans against a tree for support. Hannah can sense that something new is flickering in Joe, and she is intrigued by it. She rubs his back, smiles reassuringly.

  “Have you found the bereavement counselling with Simeon helpful?

  “Yeah, a bit. Come on, let’s walk around the pool.”

  Joe continues. “I wonder if David prays.”

  “What would he pray for?”

  “Getting his club into the Premier League, mending the mistakes of the past, rebuilding my council estate.”

  Hannah looks thoughtful. “The estate was his mistake to mend. It sounds to me as if Simeon’s prayers got answered.”

  Joe smiles and nods.

  “It made Granda
d so happy to see the estate rebuilt, and to get his new house. I just wish he could have enjoyed it, for a few years at least.” Joe turns to Hannah. “I’ve got something important to say.”

  Hannah’s heartbeat quickens. Joe looks her in the eye.

  “I hope David has learnt from his mistakes.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s told me he’s going to stand for mayor.”

  Hannah feels disappointed. It isn’t that she doesn’t want David to be mayor, she does. She thought Joe might have been about to propose to her.

  Joe continues. “David’s asked me to get involved with his campaign.”

  Hannah tries to look pleased. “Oh, doing what?”

  “He wants me to lead with urban regeneration.”

  “Wonderful! Right up your street.”

  Hannah looks distracted. “I think it’s time for us to go back to the boathouse. Cathy and Luke will be there any minute.”

  Joe isn’t ready to leave just yet. He doesn’t look well; eyes are bloodshot. Hannah looks at him, concerned.

  “Joe, do you really want to meet up with the others?”

  He looks weighed down. “I’d rather be with friends. I’ll be okay. You know, Hannah, I was so fortunate to be with my grandad at the end of his life, to receive his blessing. How could I have denied Elias that? That was a bad mistake.”

  Joe catches sudden movement, from the corner of his watery eye. A tiny flash of turquoise darts across the water; disappears between the reeds. Joe blinks, stands to attention.

  “Oh!”

  “What?”

  “That was a Kingfisher!”

  “Where?”

  “Too late, it’s gone.”

  “I wish I’d seen it.”

  Joe looks across the pool. He spots something else, two white birds, just above the little island with its two stubby oak trees.

  “Look, they’re Arctic terns, up there,” he says, smiling. The terns are soaring above the pool, circling the island. The birds perform aerial acrobatics, diving, swooping, ascending again. One of them suddenly swoops into a nosedive. Plunges into the water. Plop! In an instant, it takes off again, a little fish in its bright orange beak. The birds are like tiny actors, performing on a great stage. An awestruck Joe and Hannah watch every move. The birds fly towards them, forked tails, sharply sculpted wings against the blue sky. Their shrill trumpet calls echo across the water.

  Then a distant but more familiar sound is heard, human voices are calling them. Joe and Hannah turn around. On the other side of the pool are Luke and Cathy. A third person also stands beside the boathouse. They’re all waving their hands.

  “Who’s that with them?” asks Joe. He hopes it’s Archie. They haven’t spoken since their quarrel. Joe misses him.

  “It’s Elias,” replies Hannah. She stares at Joe. “If you had let him say goodbye to his grandfather, he wouldn’t be here today, he’d probably be dead. He asked if he could come and see you. He wants to talk to you. He doesn’t hold a grudge or anything like that.”

  Hannah’s bright green eyes are fixed upon Joe’s blue eyes.

  “I know you really loved your grandad; this is a difficult time for you. I just want you to know, you don’t have to go through this alone. I love you, Joe.”

  Joe smiles. “I love you too, Hannah.” He looks deep into her dazzling green eyes. He can’t look away. They are irresistible. He considers their future. I’ll ask her to marry me.