In Just One Day

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In Just One Day Page 23

by Helen Mcginn


  By the time Flora looked up again, someone was standing opposite her, an older woman. Same grey hair, a small smile on her face. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Oh, I…’ Flora stumbled on her words, embarrassed.

  ‘I’m Denise.’ The woman’s voice trembled a little.

  ‘I’m so sorry, I just…’ Flora shook her head. ‘I’m Flora. Please, sit down.’

  Denise did so, unravelling her scarf and putting it with her coat on the back of her seat.

  ‘Can I get you some tea?’

  ‘No, thanks, I ordered some on the way in. They’re bringing it over in a moment.’

  They looked at one another, neither sure of what to say next.

  ‘So,’ Flora began.

  ‘So,’ said Denise.

  Flora took a deep breath. ‘I guess I need to start by saying thank you for agreeing to meet me.’

  ‘Honestly, it’s the least… I feel I owe it to you.’ Denise wanted to reach out her hand but stopped herself, worried about saying or doing the wrong thing.

  ‘I’m not expecting you to say anything to make me feel better. I think I just want to… I don’t know.’ Flora sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Denise, I don’t know what I want.’ She laughed nervously.

  Denise looked at her. ‘Listen, this is an awful situation for us all. You’ve lost a brother and I am so, so sorry for that.’ Her voice trembled again. ‘More than you will ever know.’ She put her hands together, letting them fall into her lap. ‘And my son is in prison for doing what he did.’

  ‘Why did he do it?’ The words were out of Flora’s mouth before she could stop them.

  Denise took a breath and held it for a few seconds before she spoke. ‘I wish I could tell you. I lie awake every night asking the same thing. Wondering if there’s something I could have done, should have done to change things.’ She nodded her head slowly. ‘The truth is, when I ask Stephen the same thing – which, believe me, I’ve done over and over again – he doesn’t have an answer either. He knows it was stupid. If he could go back, of course he’d do things differently.’

  Flora blinked, trying to keep the tears behind her eyes from falling.

  Denise continued, ‘Please don’t think I’m making excuses for him. I’m not. He’ll have to make his own amends when he’s… when he can. But in the meantime, please know that I am so, so sorry for what’s happened. I don’t expect you to forgive him for what he did, but…’ Denise paused, searching for the right words, ‘… I hope that he can make sure his past doesn’t determine his future. He owes it to your brother to do so.’

  There was a long silence. A tray with a teapot, cup and saucer and small jug of milk appeared. ‘Can I get you anything else?’ The waitress smiled at them both.

  ‘Yes, please, can I ask you to warm up this teacake?’ Flora proffered her plate.

  ‘Thank you.’ Denise looked at Flora, smiling gently. ‘Think I might join you and have one of those, too.’

  ‘And another one, please,’ Flora asked the waitress. ‘And, please, can I have some extra butter?’ She turned back to Denise. ‘Best bit.’

  Denise nodded, still smiling. ‘So, can you tell me about your brother? I’d love to know what he was like… only if you want to, of course.’

  Flora wiped at her eye, the thought of him making her smile, too. ‘I’d love to tell you about him. He was brilliant, actually. I was lucky that he wasn’t just my brother, he was a real friend. We were always close, from a young age – perhaps because it was just the two of us – but even though he was a bit younger than me I always looked up to him. He was so secure in his own skin, happy to take what life threw at him. And he always seemed to be able to make the most of it. I think what I really loved was his fearlessness. He was just never afraid, no matter what. It was if it never occurred to him that something bad would happen.’

  ‘Oh, Flora, I’m so sorry…’

  ‘No, I don’t mean the accident. He was like that his whole life: just lived, you know, totally unafraid. I wish I could have been the same.’ She smiled to herself, remembering how he always teased her for worrying too much, about being caught swimming in the river, or creeping back into their parents’ house late at night. ‘In a way, I’m glad he didn’t know what was coming. It was like he lived his life just as he wanted right up until that point.’ Flora stirred her cup of tea slowly. She looked up at Denise. ‘I just miss him.’ Her voice was barely audible.

  ‘I can’t imagine how terrible that must feel. I’m so sorry, Flora.’

  Flora looked up. Denise looked absolutely heartbroken. ‘Tell me about Stephen.’

  ‘Well, it’s quite a different story I’m afraid. He was… is,’ Denise corrected herself, ‘he’s always seemed to find life hard. It was always just him and me. His father left years ago. Stephen was too young to even remember him. He struggled as a child to make friends and of course I’ve always wondered if that’s my fault. Did I make him too…?’ Denise searched for the words. ‘I don’t know, I worry that if I’d done things differently, none of this would have happened.’

  Flora remembered Mack’s words to her in the shop earlier that day. ‘You know, a friend of mine said that living your life trying to change the past will keep you stuck in the same place forever.’ Flora smiled. ‘Something like that, anyway.’

  Denise reached across the table and squeezed Flora’s hand. ‘He sounds like a good friend.’

  ‘He really is.’ Flora nodded. ‘How is he doing? In prison… if you don’t mind me asking.’

  ‘He’s doing OK.’ Denise decided Flora didn’t need to know any more than that, wanting to spare her the details of the scars that would no doubt stay long after the bruises had gone. ‘I just want him home.’ Denise caught herself. ‘Oh, Flora, I’m sorry. That must sound so insensitive.’

  ‘No, I know what you mean. I’m just glad we’re able to talk. It’s not been easy for either of us, in different ways, I suppose. I can see that now. And maybe what’s happened might change the course of your son’s life in a good way.’

  ‘I will do everything I can to help make that happen.’

  They looked at one another. Flora reached for Denise’s hand, taking it and holding it in her own. ‘Thank you.’

  The two women left the café together and as they stood on the street preparing to say goodbye, unsure quite how to do it, snow started to gently fall. Flora spoke first. ‘Well, I’m going this way.’

  Denise gestured in the opposite direction. ‘And my bus stop is that way.’

  ‘Thank you again. I really appreciate you coming.’ Flora held out her hand.

  Denise took it with both of hers. ‘Thank you, Flora. I’m really glad you asked me.’ She shook Flora’s hand. ‘You take care.’

  ‘And you.’

  They parted not knowing if they would see each other again, but for now, it was enough.

  That evening, as Flora lay on the sofa, she told Johnny how the meeting had gone.

  ‘It’s so weird to be bound to someone by events out of the control of either of us. The sad thing is there are no winners. Everyone loses. But Denise is determined to try and help Stephen live a better life after he’s released, and that’s good to know.’ Flora looked at Johnny. ‘Honestly, it was awful seeing the pain on her face. Literally etched into her face.’ Flora touched her own.

  ‘She didn’t lose a son.’

  ‘Yes, but she’s obviously living through her own kind of hell at the moment. That’s what I mean. There are no winners.’

  ‘Are you going to tell your parents about meeting her?’

  ‘Maybe one day. In fact, I think Mum might like to meet her. But not just yet.’

  ‘Come on, finish this,’ he handed her the last drop of his whisky, ‘and let’s go to bed. You look shattered. Lovely, obviously,’ he laughed, ‘but shattered.’

  She was knackered, all right, but her heart felt lighter than it had for a long time.

  ‘Do we really have to go?’ Pip looked longingly at her mother.
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  ‘Yes, we do, and you know you’ll enjoy it when we get there.’ Flora tried to tame Pip’s hair with a hairbrush that clearly wasn’t up to the task.

  ‘Ow!’

  ‘Sorry,’ Flora grimaced.

  ‘Can’t find my shoes.’ Tom wandered past, dragging his coat.

  ‘They’re by the front door,’ Johnny called after him. ‘Hey, you sure you want to go? We can always say – I don’t know – you’re not feeling well?’

  ‘I can’t avoid them forever, can I?’ Flora gave a slight shrug.

  ‘I suppose not. Right, I’ll see you in the car?’

  ‘Out in a mo. I’ll just grab a bottle of something to take.’

  Flora went to the fridge and opened it, spying a bottle of Crémant de Limoux in the door. Crémant always reminded her of the time her father had opened a bottle to celebrate Flora and Johnny’s somewhat surprise engagement. She thought of how happy he’d been at the news. Her mother less so, but deep down, she knew how fond of Johnny her mother was now. She grabbed the bottle and stuck it into her bag.

  Flora hadn’t seen her parents since her visit straight after the trial. She knew she should have made more of an effort to visit them but somehow it had been easier to just put in a phone call for the last few weeks, rather than actually go and face them. It made her sad to remember how close they’d once been, and how that had changed since Billy had died.

  The journey passed with the usual bickering in the back whilst Flora and Johnny attempted to have a conversation over the noise. They soon gave up and cranked up the music instead, which resulted in a mass singalong as the tracks from one of their favourite musicals blasted out of the stereo.

  ‘Best behaviour, please,’ Flora reminded the children as they pulled up in the drive. ‘And, Tom, please don’t say yuck when Granny puts vegetables on your plate.’

  ‘But she always gives us that green stuff.’ Tom pulled a face.

  ‘It’s called kale and it’s very good for you, I’ll have you know. Just say thank you and suck it up, sunshine.’ Flora pointed her finger at him.

  ‘It’s rude to point,’ said Tom, cheekily.

  ‘Hello, darling.’ Robin stood on the doorstep, waiting to greet them.

  ‘Hi, Dad, how are you?’ Flora hugged him.

  ‘Hello, Flo. Go on through, your mother’s in the kitchen.’ He turned to Johnny. ‘How are you?’

  Johnny shook Robin’s hand. ‘Good, thanks. Good to see you. Here, this is from us.’ He gave him the bottle. ‘Still cold, just about.’

  ‘It’s been a while. But we’re very glad you’re here.’ Robin glanced inside to make sure Flora was out of earshot. ‘How is she?’

  ‘She’s pretty good, Robin. We’re busy at the shop so I think that helps, you know, keeps her occupied.’

  ‘Go on through; we’re in the kitchen.’ He waited for them all to go ahead before following them in.

  ‘Darlings!’ Kate turned from where she stood by the Aga, throwing her arms open. ‘I am so pleased to see you.’ She crossed the kitchen and wrapped her arms tightly around Flora.

  ‘Hi, Mum,’ Flora said, her voice muffled by Kate’s bright scarf. As she took in her mother’s familiar scent, felt the softness of her cheek against her own, she was suddenly overwhelmed by how pleased she was to see her. Flora had braced herself for more tears or, even worse, silence. Instead, there was nothing but love and a kitchen filled with the delicious, unmistakable smell of a Sunday roast. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Very well. Darling,’ she called over to Robin, ‘can you give everyone a glass? And look at you two!’ Pip and Tom stood beside Flora, smiles on their faces as instructed. ‘You’ve grown since I last saw you! Haven’t they grown?’ She looked at Flora.

  ‘Mum, it hasn’t been that long…’

  ‘Long enough. Now come on, let’s hear what you’ve been up to. How’s everything at the shop?’

  ‘Actually, pretty good. We’re thinking about opening up a small café next year. Well, not really a café, more a kind of snack bar so you can take your food and have it outside with a glass of something. We saw something like it in Venice and it got us thinking… Anyway, how about you?’ Flora looked across at her father pouring out a glass of the Crémant for them all. She looked back at her mother. ‘Is everything… OK?’

  Kate lowered her voice. ‘I think it will be. We’ll talk about it later. You and I can walk down to the river for a bit of air after lunch.’

  They sat and feasted on slow-roast lamb, Robin topping up Johnny’s glass with a particularly good Rioja Reserva at regular intervals, given that Flora was the designated driver. Then followed a bowl of Barbados cream dolloped on top of baked plums, the warm spices filling the kitchen as they cooked.

  Her parents seemed almost back to normal, much to Flora’s surprise. She found herself relieved and unnerved all at the same time.

  After lunch, as they walked down to the river, the children running ahead, Flora was finally able to talk to her mother alone.

  ‘Mum, how are you really? How are you and Dad?’

  ‘Well, it’s not been easy, as I’m sure you gathered. But,’ Kate took a deep breath, ‘I did listen to what you said.’

  Flora tried to remember. ‘Um, what did I say exactly?’

  ‘Well, you suggested I gave him a chance to explain, at least.’

  ‘And?’ Flora looked up, seeing Johnny and her father walking ahead, her father’s walk slow and familiar.

  ‘I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive what he did but I do believe him when he says it won’t happen again. And how sorry he is. We were both at fault in our own ways. We lost each other for a while, maybe took each other for granted. But to be honest,’ Kate sighed, ‘I’ve loved him for too long to let him go now.’

  Flora felt relief flood through her. She hugged her mother tightly. ‘Oh, Mum, I’m so pleased.’

  Kate put her hands to her daughter’s face. ‘We’ve all been through so much. I just want to try and start enjoying the time we have again.’

  They walked on ahead, catching up with the others at the riverbank. Together they stood for a moment, watching the tide coming in, the gulls wheeling overhead.

  Flora stood with her arm through her mother’s. ‘Billy loved swimming in this river.’

  Kate looked at her daughter. ‘You miss him, don’t you, darling?’

  ‘So much it hurts.’ Flora looked up at the sky. She thought of Ruby. They’d messaged a few times since the memorial; Flora couldn’t bear the thought of how Ruby had glimpsed a future with Billy, only to have it taken away. She hoped that one day Ruby might want to meet up properly. Flora thought they could be friends. ‘Mum, I have to tell you something and I hope you won’t be cross.’ Flora looked at her mother. ‘I met up with Stephen Hirst’s mother, Denise.’

  Kate looked blank for a moment, then her eyes widened with surprise as she realised who Flora was talking about.

  ‘When?’

  ‘A few weeks ago. I wanted to tell you, but in person, to explain.’

  Kate looked out at the river. ‘You know, it’s fine, Flora. I’m realising that we all need to deal with this in our own way. And that might not be the same way, but if that’s what you needed to do, then that’s OK with me.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really.’ Kate nodded slowly. ‘So, what was she like?’

  ‘Sad.’ Flora sighed. ‘Really, really sad. She was also sorry, said she hoped he’d live a better life when he comes out of prison. You know, I think you might like to meet her one day.’

  ‘Maybe. Just not yet.’ Kate tucked a stray strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear. ‘You know, we still have each other. And he’ll always be with us, just not right here.’

  ‘I know, Mum.’ Flora smiled.

  36

  Six months later

  The knock on the door brought Mack downstairs. It was half an hour before opening time, but someone had been knocking for a while. He walked across the shop and
undid the lock on the door.

  ‘Colin, you’re keen.’

  ‘Morning, Mack. I’m sorry to make you open up early, but I wanted to get these to you whilst they were still warm.’ Colin, resplendent in camel, held up a tin. With a flourish he opened one corner. ‘Smell that.’

  Mack did as he was told, the smell of warm cheese and pastry escaping as Colin held the lid up for a few seconds. ‘Oh, my goodness, you made gougères.’

  Colin looked fit to burst. ‘I did. And let me tell you, there is a real art to making them.’ He explained, in detail, how his first batch hadn’t been up to scratch, his second an improvement but by no means perfect. ‘But this, my third batch, I’m pleased to say, is very good indeed.’ He gave the tin to Mack. ‘These are for you, for the party later.’

  ‘Oh, Colin, you didn’t have to do that.’

  ‘But how could I not? It’s your one-year anniversary since you relaunched the shop! How many have you got coming?’

  Mack shuffled back to the counter and placed the box gently on top. ‘Flora and Johnny have organised the guest list so I’m not absolutely sure. You know, friends and family, some of our regulars, the usual suspects. It should be fun.’

  ‘Well, let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help. You know I’m always happy to top up glasses.’

  ‘I know you are, thank you, Colin. See you later, then. I think we’ve said six o’clock.’ He glanced outside. ‘If it stays like this, we’ll be able to be outside.’

  ‘Fingers crossed.’ Colin gestured to Mack, crossing his fingers on both hands. ‘See you later.’

  Mack went to put the lock on again when Flora appeared. He opened the door. ‘Why’s everyone so early today? You just missed Colin.’

  ‘Oh, no, did I? Is he coming tonight?’

  ‘Of course, and he made these.’ Mack pointed to the counter.

  Flora went over and picked up the lid, peering inside. ‘Oh, my goodness, these are my favourites!’ She reached in to take one, popping it into her mouth in one go. The flavour of warm Gruyère cheese and soft choux pastry filled her mouth, making her almost weep with joy.

 

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