by HC Warner
He ran his hand over his face. ‘Well, they’ve gone now, so you can go back to bed and sleep off whatever lurgy you’ve picked up.’
Bella brightened instantly, all signs of her earlier tears and trauma now evaporated. ‘No, it’s fine,’ she beamed. ‘I feel much better now.’
The landline phone was ringing as Ben walked into the kitchen. Bella was sitting at the table, tapping on her mobile phone, while Elodie lay on the wooden floor in her baby gym, gurgling happily and grabbing at the various rattles and mirrors dangling above her.
‘Why are you ignoring the phone, darling?’ he said, as he snatched up the handset. He could see from the caller display that it was his mother calling. Bella gave a tiny smile but didn’t reply. Ben sighed and pressed the ‘answer’ key. ‘Hi, Mum, how are you?’
Jo’s voice sounded muffled. ‘Hi, sweetheart, I’m sorry to call you …’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Ben frowned, sensing something bad was coming. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘No …’ There was a pause as Jo gulped back a sob. ‘Ben, I’m at the hospital. Your dad’s had a heart attack.’
Ben’s legs went weak and buckled under him. Sitting down abruptly on a kitchen chair, he tried to compute what Jo was saying. ‘A heart attack?’
‘Yes.’ He heard Jo blow her nose on the other end of the line.
‘Oh my God. How serious?’ Ben stole a glance at Bella, who was watching him with an intense frown.
Jo burst into another bout of tears. ‘I don’t know but I think it might be really bad! Oh Ben, what the hell am I going to do?’
Ben swallowed back his own tears and sat up a bit straighter. This was not the time for him to crumple. He needed to be there for his mum. ‘Right, don’t worry, I will be there as soon as I can. Which hospital?’
‘Ipswich.’
‘OK. Get yourself a coffee and I’ll be there in a couple of hours. Does Emma know?’
‘No, not yet. I need to call her.’
‘I’ll do it,’ Ben cut in, feeling a sense of pride and relief that his mum had turned to him first. ‘And I’ll pick her up and bring her with me.’
‘Thank you, darling. Drive safely … but please hurry.’
Ben felt an ache of longing to get to his mum and protect her. ‘I will. Love you,’ he added, as he hung up.
‘What’s happened? Is it your dad?’ Bella stood up, her eyes huge in her suddenly pale face.
Ben nodded, biting his lip to fight back the tears that still threatened. Bella came over and wrapped her arms around him. He could feel her shaking and even in his panicked state, it touched him that she was so affected.
Ben took a deep breath. ‘I need to call Emma and go now.’
Bella nodded. ‘Of course you do.’
Ben gazed at her in surprise. He had grown so used to her prickliness where his family was concerned, that he was almost expecting her to tell him he wasn’t allowed.
‘Let me know the second you have any news,’ she added.
Ben nodded. ‘Of course. Just keep an eye on our baby girl while I’m gone.’ He knelt on the floor and kissed Elodie, who beamed up at him with a gummy smile, oblivious to the turmoil going on around her.
‘I will,’ Bella said, her face a mask of worry. ‘And we’ll be waiting for you when you get back.’
When Ben walked into the hospital with Emma almost three hours later, he knew instantly that they were too late. Jo’s face was ashen and her eyes were sunken with shock. She gave a small shake of her head and reached out her arms towards them.
Ben’s hand flew to his mouth and he thought he might be sick. Emma fell into her mother’s arms with a shriek of ‘No!’ before dissolving into tears. Jo clung to Emma, stroking her silky blonde hair and soothing her like a child.
Ben slumped onto a chair and put his head between his knees as his vision blurred. It wasn’t possible. Surely his tall, strong, handsome father hadn’t died? ‘There must be some mistake,’ he told himself firmly, shaking away the dizziness.
Jo sat down beside him and put her arm around him. After a few minutes, he sat up slowly. He looked at her and took a deep breath. ‘There must be some mistake,’ he repeated. He felt as though he was underwater with everything blurred and muffled.
Jo opened her mouth to speak but he could see that she was too shocked to make any coherent sounds. Instead, she just shook her head helplessly. She suddenly looked so small and vulnerable.
In front of them, Emma was slumped against a wall, crying piteously. ‘Emma,’ Ben said, almost surprised at how normal his voice sounded.
Emma shook her head and put her hand up, warning him off.
‘Emma,’ Ben repeated. ‘Come and sit down.’ He thought maybe he should go to her but knew that his legs were too weak to hold him up.
Emma hesitated, before coming over to sit in the chair the other side of Ben. He put one arm around her and the other around his mum, pulling them into him. They sat locked in a cocoon of shock, each lost in their own stunned silence, while drawing comfort from each other for several minutes before Ben finally spoke: ‘What happens now?’
Jo turned towards him. He had never seen anyone look so scared. ‘I have no idea.’
‘OK.’ Ben took a deep breath and disentangled himself from them both before standing up. ‘Don’t worry about anything. You two go home and I will sort everything out.’
Jo immediately dissolved into tears. ‘We can’t leave him!’ she cried desperately.
A sob rose in Ben’s throat, catching him by surprise. He put his hand to his mouth, trying to compose himself. He had to be strong now for his mum and his sister. It was a horrible, terrifying sensation to realize that he was the man of the family now. The only one left. He crouched down in front of Jo and took her hand. ‘We’re not leaving him, Mum. He’s not here anymore. He’s gone.’ The words tasted bitter as they left his mouth.
He steeled himself for Jo to shout, or scream or cry. But instead she became suddenly still, as if he had injected her with some kind of sedative. ‘Mum?’ he prompted.
Jo lifted her head to meet his gaze. There was such a look of utter despair in her eyes that for a moment he almost crumpled. ‘He’s gone,’ she whispered, as if trying to compute the words.
Ben nodded and took her hand. ‘You and Emma go home. I will come as soon as I can.’ He gave her hand what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.
Jo gave him a bleak half-smile. ‘Thank you.’
Ben watched as his mum and Emma shuffled out of the hospital, clinging to each other for support. Jo looked like she had aged years in just a few short hours and he wondered if it was the same for him. It certainly felt like it.
He fished around in his pocket for his phone and dialled Bella’s mobile. It went straight to voicemail. He tried the landline but that too was picked up by the Ansaphone. He started to leave a message but stopped short, unable to say such horribly unspeakable words into a machine. He would tell her later.
He slumped down onto the chair his mum had just vacated, overwhelmed by the enormity of the responsibility. He knew he needed to speak to the nursing staff, to sort out the practicalities, but all he felt capable of was curling into a ball and hoping it would all disappear. He stared at his phone again. Before he knew what he was doing, he was dialling Charlotte’s number.
She picked up immediately. ‘Hello?’
‘Charlie, it’s me. Ben,’ he managed before he burst out into a torrent of sobbing.
‘Ben!’ she cried. ‘What on earth has happened? What’s wrong?’
Ben tried to speak but found the words just wouldn’t form.
‘Take your time,’ she soothed. ‘It’s OK. Just take a few deep breaths and try and tell me what’s happened.’
Ben followed her instructions. Eventually, he found his voice. ‘Charlie, it’s Dad …’
There was a beat of silence. ‘Oh my God …’ she whispered. ‘What about him?’
‘He’s dead, Charlie. He died.’ Ben could
hear the disbelief in his own voice.
‘No! Oh my God, that’s not possible.’ Charlotte paused to compose herself. ‘Oh darling, I am so very sorry. What can I do? Where are you? Do you want me to come to you?’
Ben closed his eyes. Yes, he wanted to say, I do want you to come. But then he remembered that they weren’t together anymore. It wouldn’t be right for her to come. ‘No,’ he managed. ‘I just needed to talk to someone. To tell someone.’
‘Of course you did.’ Charlotte’s tone was gentle and reassuring, despite the tremor of shock.
‘I’ve sent Mum and Emma home. I said I’d take care of the practicalities but the trouble is, I don’t know what to do. I thought you might know … after your dad.’
There was a short pause before she replied. ‘I can’t really remember, to be honest, Ben. It’s all a bit of a blur. Why don’t you call Matt and Freya? Freya will know what to do.’
Fresh tears sprang into Ben’s eyes. ‘I’m not sure they’ll want to hear from me.’
‘Of course they will! You’re Matt’s best friend. Why wouldn’t they want to hear from you?’
Ben sighed and shook his head, too ashamed to tell her how and why they had parted on such bad terms the last time he saw them. ‘Oh, it’s a long story. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called you. It’s not fair.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ Charlotte’s tone was brusque. ‘Look, would you like me to call them for you?’
‘Would you?’ Ben felt a surge of gratitude for Charlotte’s practical, no-nonsense attitude.
‘Of course. Which hospital are you at?’
‘Ipswich.’ A very small part of him hoped that she would just get in the car and come, even though he had told her not to. He was suddenly so desperate to see her and if she turned up without him asking, well, Bella couldn’t blame him for that, could she?
‘OK. Sit tight. I’ll call you back shortly. Or they will.’
‘Thanks, Charlie.’
‘And Ben?’ Charlotte cut in before he could hang up.
‘Yes?’
‘I am so very sorry. He was a wonderful man. I know how much you loved him. We all did.’
Ben nodded, too choked to reply. He managed a sort of half-grunt, before hanging up. Yes, they had all loved his father. Except Bella, said a little voice inside his head. Bella, who had caused his father so much stress over the last few months of his life. It was ever since he first brought Bella home that his father’s health had begun to deteriorate. And he knew Bella would have been happy for Ben never to see him again.
A bubble of anger seemed to pop inside him. Why had he let her come between him and his dad? What had his parents really done that was so bad? He swallowed hard, trying to quell the bitter taste of fury. It wasn’t her fault, he admonished himself. She had no idea that this was around the corner, lying in wait for them like a silent landmine.
After what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes, his phone rang. Freya’s number flashed up on his screen. He reddened with shame instantly, before picking up. ‘Hello, Freya.’
‘Oh my God, Ben. Charlotte’s just rung. I can’t believe the news about Peter! I am so, so sorry.’
Ben shook his head. ‘I can’t believe it either, Frey.’
‘What can we do to help?’
‘You can tell me what to do now because I don’t have a clue. I sent Mum and Emma home, saying I would take care of everything but I realized that I don’t actually know.’
‘OK, I’ll talk you through it all … Here’s what you need to do.’
By the time Ben drove back to his mum and dad’s house a couple of hours later, he was exhausted. He drove on auto-pilot, barely aware of his surroundings, still too numb to feel anything other than disbelief. As he pulled up in their driveway, he remembered that he still hadn’t told Bella. Steeling himself, he called her number. ‘Ben?’ she said, sounding uncharacteristically nervous.
‘Yes,’ Ben felt his eyes fill with tears at the sound of her voice.
‘How is he?’
Ben swallowed, knowing he would have to learn to say the words many times over the coming weeks and months. ‘He’s dead. He died, Bella.’
Bella gasped. ‘What? No! That’s just not possible!’ There was genuine shock in her voice. There was a pause as she digested the news. ‘My God, I can’t believe it.’
‘I know. I’ve just arrived back at Mum and Dad’s—’ Ben stopped speaking, unable to continue. It wasn’t his mum and dad’s anymore. It was just his mum’s. His dad was gone. The realization washed over him like a giant wave and he put his hand over his face, which was wet with tears.
There was a long silence at the end of the line. Finally, Bella spoke.
‘Are you coming home?’
‘Not tonight. I need to stay here with Mum and Emma, to make sure they’re OK. Just look after Elodie and I’ll call you in the morning.’
‘OK.’ Bella’s voice was barely a whisper and Ben could hear how devastated and upset she was. Somewhere at the back of his mind, it touched him.
The house was deathly quiet as Ben let himself in. He walked from room to room, looking for his mum and Emma, before deciding that they must be upstairs. He found them in his parents’ bedroom. Jo was under the duvet, propped up on a pile of white pillows, while Emma sat on the edge of the bed, holding her mum’s hand. Both were pale with shock.
‘Hey.’ Ben sat down beside Emma, giving her a quick hug as he did so.
Emma gave him a wan half-smile. ‘Thanks for sorting everything out.’
Jo nodded her agreement. ‘Yes, thank you, darling.’
Ben tried to smile, thinking how tiny and frail Jo suddenly looked. She was a small woman anyway but she seemed to have shrunk into herself and aged a decade in just a few short hours.
‘Charlotte phoned,’ Emma said, breaking into his thoughts.
‘Did she?’
Emma nodded. ‘She spoke to Mum, too. It was nice of her.’
‘She loved Dad.’ Ben thought back over the various holidays, family meals and nights out that he and Charlotte had enjoyed with his parents. Charlotte had truly felt like part of the family, even more so after her own dad died. She and Peter had a warm, easy relationship and he knew that she would be deeply affected by his death.
There were no such happy memories of Peter and Bella and Ben felt a sudden, physical squeeze of pain that Elodie would never know her grandfather.
The weight of grief was already beginning to settle on his shoulders, the physical heaviness almost unbearable. ‘What do we do now?’ he said aloud, not really asking the question, just voicing his thoughts.
Emma reached out and took his hand in hers. ‘We carry on. That’s what we do.’
Chapter Fourteen
The day of the funeral dawned bright and sunny, with just the odd cloud scudding across a clear cobalt sky. Jo gazed up resentfully, thinking that it felt wrong, somehow. She wanted it to pour with rain and a thunderstorm to rent the heavens apart, with a viciousness to match her mood.
Two weeks on and she still felt hollowed-out with shock and grief. She had met Peter when she was 25 years old and she could no longer really remember her life before him. He was three years older than her and she had met him at a party in London, being thrown by her best friend’s brother.
She thought back to the tall, handsome man who had confidently introduced himself, looking at her with his smiling brown eyes and remembered that she had had an immediate, unshakable premonition that she would marry him.
But she had made him work hard to get her. She wasn’t going to fall into bed with him straight away and forced him to woo her for several weeks before she agreed to sleep with him. He sent flowers, took her for dinner and even rowed her around the Serpentine one particularly lovely, sunny afternoon, which was when she finally succumbed.
They married at a sweet little country church near her family home in Surrey and moved to their first house just outside Guildford. It wasn’t a big house but it was a b
eautiful, chocolate-box-style cottage with roses around the door and a garden big enough to accommodate a swing for Emma, once she came along. Peter commuted to his job in the city and they were deliriously happy.
Jo often thought she would have been happy to stay at Rose Cottage for ever, but Peter’s career was flying, so they bought the much larger house in Suffolk, where he could commute into the city more easily and they could add to their little family. The pressure of Peter’s career meant he had to spend a couple of nights every week in London but the huge improvement in their circumstances made it worthwhile.
The biggest blip in their relationship came when the children were 8 and 11 and she discovered that he had been having an affair with a work colleague. She had been stunned and devastated and had immediately told him to leave. But he seemed genuinely sorry for what he’d done and had begged and begged her to give him another chance. Although it took time for the hurt and anger to recede, she was glad that she had forgiven him. They had been very happy together ever since, even though she knew that he had had other dalliances over the years. But she had made a decision to turn a blind eye in future, reasoning that, as long as she and the children remained unaware, what they didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt them.
As she pulled on the black dress she had chosen to wear for the funeral, Jo reached around to do up the zip and realized that she couldn’t fasten it all the way up. She opened her mouth to call for Peter, before remembering that he was no longer here. A wall of grief hurtled towards her, hitting her with such force that she slumped down onto the pale grey carpet. She couldn’t even cry. There were no more tears left. She knew that this was how it would be from now on, the little things having the power to floor her on a daily basis.
‘Mum?’ Emma was in the doorway, looking pale and weary. ‘Are you OK?’
