In Just One Day

by Helen Mcginn

  ‘It’s Billy, he’s been in a car accident. I…’ Flora stared at Johnny, unable to make any more words come out of her mouth so he gently took the phone from her.

  ‘Robin? It’s Johnny – what’s happened?’ Johnny nodded, saying ‘OK’ over and over. Then: ‘We’ll be there as soon as we can.’

  He put the phone down and took Flora’s face in his hands. ‘Put some clothes on. I’ll call someone to see if we can get the kids sorted.’

  ‘Tilda, call Tilda. She’ll come.’ Flora felt her fingers tingling. She tried to move them, but they were stiff, as if they didn’t belong to her. ‘Johnny, what did Dad say? Is Billy all right?’

  ‘They’re at the hospital now. Billy’s being operated on. Let’s just get there. Come on, put these on.’ Johnny held out Flora’s jeans and a jumper grabbed from the pile of clothes at the end of the bed.

  She tried to pull them on, but her fingers were trembling too much and she couldn’t make them stop. ‘Johnny, I can’t…’

  He moved round to her side of the bed and helped her into her clothes. ‘Flo, you’re breathing really quickly; try and slow it down a bit. Put your jumper on, I’ll go and call Tilda.’

  ‘Is he going… is Billy going to be all right?’

  ‘Your dad didn’t say. Now come on, let’s just get to the hospital. Put these on.’ He pushed her feet into her trainers.

  ‘Johnny, what if—’

  ‘Flora, let’s just get there.’

  Johnny sat Flora at the kitchen table as he scribbled a note on the pad on the dresser, waiting for Tilda to arrive. Flora tried to make sense of what she’d been told but nothing seemed real. She was shocked to realise that what she felt most was furious. She was so angry at Billy. Angry that he’d been driving too fast, angry that he’d been out too late. How could he have been so stupid?

  Tilda swept in, gave Flora a tight hug and nodded at Johnny. ‘You go. I’ll sort out the kids when they wake up.’

  ‘Thanks so much, I’ve written down details of where we are on here. I’ll call when we know more.’ Johnny put his hand on Flora’s shoulder. ‘Come on, Flo.’

  They drove through the cold grey light and soon joined the early morning traffic on the motorway, red tail lights slowly snaking their way towards the city. Johnny looked across at Flora in the passenger seat, her hands in a tight bunch in her lap. He so wanted to tell her everything was going to be all right, but the truth was he had an awful feeling that might not be true. Something in Robin’s voice had told him the situation was far more serious than that.

  Flora looked at the people in their cars. She envied them, simply going to work, going about their lives as normal while hers was collapsing. Her fingers were still trembling.

  ‘It’s not too far, just another half an hour or so.’ Johnny glanced at her again. The colour had literally drained from her face.

  Half an hour later Flora was still staring at her hands, her voice barely audible. ‘I can’t feel them.’

  ‘Not long now, darling. We just have to park. Try not to think about it until we get to see your parents.’

  On arrival at the hospital, Johnny went to the reception desk and before long a nurse was showing them through a set of double doors to a small waiting room off to one side. Flora’s parents sat side by side on green plastic-coated chairs, holding hands. They both looked up, their eyes red-rimmed.

  ‘How is he?’ Johnny asked, putting his arm round Flora as he did.

  Robin shook his head slowly. ‘I’m so sorry, Flora. They did everything they could.’

  Flora put her hands over her ears, trying to stop the words becoming real.

  Kate sat motionless in her seat, staring at the floor.

  ‘Oh God, Dad. No, please don’t…’ Flora looked at her father, willing him to change his story. This was not what was supposed to happen. Billy always pulled through. All through his life, whatever scrapes he’d been in, he’d always walked away in one piece. She closed her eyes, furious with her brother for not walking away from this one.

  Johnny took her in his arms. ‘I’m so sorry, Flora.’ Her ears started ringing. She felt her limbs lighten, as if suddenly not part of her. Everything felt fragmented yet horrifyingly real. And as much as she wanted it to stop, she knew she couldn’t change what was happening.

  Flora was only vaguely aware of various doctors coming and talking to them in the small waiting room, gently explaining how they’d tried to save Billy. But the damage done in the crash was too traumatic for his body to bear and, in the end, there was nothing more they could have done. She looked around at her family sitting in that waiting room, her parents and Johnny, and thought: everyone seems so still. And there was no sound. Just stunned silence.

  When there was nothing more the doctors could say, they left the hospital together and walked across a bridge towards a church on the other side of the river from the hospital. Not that they’d ever been a churchgoing family – Easter and Christmas visits to their local village one when the children were younger was about the extent of it – but it had been Kate’s suggestion, and no one was going to argue.

  As they walked along the pavement in the morning sunlight, Flora wanted to stop the people passing her, tell them about her brother. Tell them that he’d died in a car crash. Tell them that he was far too young to be gone. And it was hideous and unfair, and she hated that life was carrying on outside on the street as if nothing had happened.

  They filed into the church after Kate, taking in the vast, silent space in front of them, the stillness in stark contrast to the noise of the outside world. Flora headed to a pew at the back and took a seat, Johnny next to her. He squeezed her hand. She felt the physical gesture but as much as she tried to sink into her body to find a feeling, she couldn’t feel a thing.

  ‘Johnny, why am I not crying?’ Her seemingly cold reaction frightened her.

  ‘Darling, you’re in shock.’ He looked at Flora, his eyes red-rimmed. ‘And you’re exhausted. Let’s get home and you can get some rest. I’ll talk to your father now, see if there’s anything more we can do before we go.’ Johnny kissed her hand and slipped out of the pew.

  Flora slowly raised her head, her eyes drawn to the light streaming through the enormous stained-glass window at the front of the church, the sun lighting up the bright blues and deep reds from behind. She looked to the walls on either side, covered in plaques and memorials. Declarations of love and devotion to people she’d never know, their memories reduced to stone. This was how she felt, like stone. Suddenly, she wanted to sleep. To close her eyes, curl up on the seat and drift off to a place where Billy was still very much alive, waiting for her.

  ‘Darling, time to go.’ Kate gently placed a hand on Flora’s shoulder.

  Flora opened her eyes, the smell of wood and polish and the sight of the flagstone floor signalling unfamiliar territory. She sat up, putting the heel of her hands to her eyes. ‘Oh, Mum…’

  Kate looked at Flora. She went to say something, then closed her mouth again before standing up and walking towards the door through which they’d come in.

  Flora looked around for Johnny, seeing him talking to her father just outside. She stood up and went slowly towards them.

  Stepping out into the sunlight again felt like rejoining a world Flora wasn’t ready for.

  ‘Right, Flo. We’re going to head home. Your parents are, too. There’s nothing more we can do here for now, but your parents will let us know what… happens next.’ Johnny tried to make this sound normal, even though the words were anything but, and were the last thing Flora wanted to hear.

  Her father appeared beside Johnny. ‘I think we all need to get some rest. We can get together again tomorrow.’ Robin gently kissed his daughter on the cheek.

  ‘Where’s Mum?’ Flora looked around for her.

  ‘She’s just gone ahead to the car. She said to say goodbye.’

  ‘We’ll come over first thing tomorrow, then?’ said Johnny.

  ‘Yes, do. Ta
ke care, you two.’ Robin hugged his daughter, then Johnny.

  In the car on the way home, Flora lay with her cheek on the cold window. The journey they’d taken just hours earlier that day felt like a lifetime ago. How she wished she could go back to the day before. Perhaps if she’d really insisted on Billy coming to the party, he wouldn’t have gone on that work trip. Or if she’d called him when he was on the road he might have slowed down (she always told him off for driving too fast) and then he would have been just a few more cars behind. More thoughts flooded her head: ‘if only’, ‘I wish’, ‘why didn’t he…?’ She screwed her eyes up, willing the thoughts to stop. But still they kept coming.

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She’d never been so far from fine in her life and yet this seemed like the easiest thing to say. She knew she should perhaps be asking questions about the accident, about who the other driver was, about what was going to happen to him. But the truth was she didn’t care. It seemed pointless knowing anything about it because it didn’t make any difference, as far as she was concerned. Most of all, saying next to nothing meant she didn’t have to say what she was really feeling, an emptiness so deep it terrified her.

  The next few days passed in a fog. Flora spent much of it at her parents’ house, and together, round the table, they planned a small family-only funeral. The shock of losing Billy so suddenly had left them reeling, and organising this seemed, for all of them, the only thing that mattered. Music was chosen, Flora asked to read from one of their favourite childhood poems and Kate insisted on picking flowers from the garden for the small chapel. Johnny kept their whisky glasses topped up and took care of the children.

  The day before the funeral, as they sat around the table, Robin brought up the subject of the police report after the accident.

  ‘Dad, I’m sorry but I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know his name, or anything about him.’ Flora put her hand up to stop him talking. ‘I don’t expect you to understand but, honestly, I don’t want anything about it in my head, at all.’

  Kate looked at Robin. ‘It’s fine, darling,’ she said gently. ‘If she doesn’t want to know, that’s up to her. We can talk about it later.’

  Silence fell again. Flora thought of Ruby. They’d never even met, but Billy had clearly been far fonder of her than he’d let on. ‘What about Ruby? How is she? Do we know?’ Flora felt terrible; she’d barely given her a thought until now.

  Robin cleared his throat. ‘Well, obviously we’ve never met her but I told the police about her when we were at the hospital. They were going to get in touch and tell her what happened.’

  ‘Can I contact her? I want to see if she’s OK, let her know we’re thinking of her… or something.’ Flora thought of the poor girl, sure she would be in pieces, too.

  ‘Yes, of course. I asked the police to give her our contact details so she can reach us if she wants to. I thought it was better that way. I’m sure she’ll want to come to the memorial service. I’ll let you know when she gets in touch.’

  The funeral was held at a small crematorium, a boxy, ugly building just outside the nearest town from Flora’s parents’ house. The rain hadn’t stopped all morning, but when they pulled up at the allotted time that afternoon, the clouds had lifted, replaced with a pale blue sky. Together with their local vicar, a man who’d known Billy all his life, they got through the short service as best they could. Flora squeezed Johnny’s hand throughout, feeling as if she was there in body only. It was the saddest day of her life.

  Billy’s memorial service took place a few weeks later on a bright, sunny day. After the intense, sombre experience of the crematorium, this felt more like a celebration of his life, the church packed with Billy’s numerous friends. Songs were sung with gusto, the contributions of friends bringing ripples of laughter with some of the stories. The eulogy, read by Robin, brought both gentle laughter and silent tears to many in the assembled crowd. It was as if a surprise party was being thrown, only for the guest of honour not to show up.

  At the drinks in the church hall afterwards, Flora greeted people with a smile. She listened whilst they told her their memories of Billy, how sorry they were for her loss, doing her best to make them feel at ease, knowing they in turn were doing their best to make her feel better. Flora had contacted Ruby just before the funeral, a tearful phone call she’d never forget. Ruby had said she didn’t feel it was right to come to the funeral but she did come to the memorial service with her parents. With her blond hair drawn off her pale face, Ruby clearly looked shattered by what had happened.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ It was all Flora could think of to say.

  ‘I’m so sorry, too.’ They’d hugged each other tightly, Ruby’s eyes filling with tears. ‘Can we keep in touch?’ she asked shyly.

  ‘I’d love that,’ Flora replied. And she meant it.

  His friends started to drift on to the village pub once the drinks in the church hall were finished, trying to drag Flora and Johnny with them. But she knew that she needed to stay with her parents, particularly her mother, who by this stage looked utterly exhausted, despite the smile Kate had stuck firmly on her face.

  ‘Mum, do you want me to run you back?’ Flora gently squeezed her mother’s arm as one of Billy’s friends commiserated with her on his way out.

  ‘I’m not leaving until the last person has gone,’ Kate said quietly.

  Looking into her mother’s eyes, Flora could see the pain. She felt her heart break all over again.

  In the weeks that followed, to all appearances Flora started to function more normally again. But really, she felt permanently underwater, seeing shapes and hearing sounds but unable to connect with any of them.

  She spent most of her days at home, as instructed by Johnny, taking time out to get some rest. She was barely sleeping at night, too busy fighting to keep the darkest of thoughts out of her head. Subsequently, she was exhausted during the day, unable to focus. Sometimes she’d wake up, forgetting that anything had changed at all. Then, within seconds, it all came back to her and the same feeling washed over her, draining colour from the room.

  The children had taken the news as expected, confused at first, then visibly sad. Pip wrote a long letter to Billy, telling him how much she’d miss him, and Tom drew a picture. They hung them on the tree in the garden until one day they weren’t there any more, taken by the wind. They asked the occasional question about his death and Johnny calmly explained it was an accident, sudden and shocking, but that the important thing was to remember all the happy memories they had of their uncle, rather than think about the way he had died.

  One morning, whilst Johnny stirred porridge for the children at the stove, Flora walked into the kitchen wrapped in her dressing gown, took a seat at the table and suggested it might be time for her to go back to work.

  Johnny turned to face her, noticing the dark circles under his wife’s eyes. ‘Are you sure? I mean, take as much time as you need. Mack and I can manage for now.’

  ‘I want to, Johnny. I need to do something other than sit here, trying not to think about things I don’t want to think about. I want to be busy.’

  Johnny was reluctant but Flora insisted, and so, later that day, she joined him in the shop.

  Mack greeted her with a warm smile. ‘It’s good to see you back, Flora.’

  ‘Thank you, Mack.’ She walked towards the counter, stopping at a gap on the shelves. There, where the bottle of Volnay once stood, sat a single dried white rose in an empty jam jar. She looked back at him.

  ‘I put it there the day after the accident. I’ve been thinking of you all. I’m so sorry, Flora.’ Mack looked at her over his glasses.

  She managed a smile, worried the tears that threatened to fall might never stop. Blinking them away, she nodded her thanks, picked the rose out of the jar and made her way into the courtyard.

  Johnny went to follow.

  ‘Leave her for a moment.’ Mack’s words took Johnny by surprise.

 
; ‘But—’

  ‘Believe me, it’ll do her no harm.’

  ‘You’ve been here before, haven’t you?’

  ‘Well, I didn’t lose a sibling, but my son died when he was very young.’

  ‘I did know that. I’m sorry if this is bringing back difficult memories.’

  ‘Ah, it was a long time ago, but I do remember feeling, well, very lost for a while. Here but not here, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘I do, as it happens,’ said Johnny, softly.

  ‘And it’s hard for you because you’ve got to grieve and keep everyone afloat. But if anyone can do that, Johnny, it’s you. Flora is very lucky to have you.’

  ‘I don’t know about that…’

  ‘She is. She will get through this, but it’s the only way to do it, I’m afraid. To go through it – you can’t go round it.’ Mack looked at Johnny, his eyes sad. ‘I think I’ve said enough. I don’t mean to interfere.’

  ‘Not at all, Mack. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. Seeing her like this, it’s just so awful to watch. And to not be able to make her feel better…’

  ‘But you will be helping, more than you know. Now,’ Mack lowered his glasses and peered at the screen in front of him, ‘can you take a look at today’s orders? Make sure I’ve not missed anything? Then I can take the van out later.’

  ‘Sure. Thank you.’

  Mack nodded. ‘My pleasure. I’m just going to go and make some fresh coffee.’ Slowly, he made his way up the stairs.

  Johnny peered out into the courtyard where Flora sat perched on the wall, eyes closed with her face to the sun. He noticed her hands were in her lap, her fingers holding the rose. Then she leaned down and picked up a small white feather from the ground, holding it between thumb and finger. She looked at it, a faint smile on her face, before letting it go and watching it float gently back down.

  17

  Robin walked slowly over to Kate’s bedside, putting the cup of hot tea down carefully on top of her book on the table.