Another Day in Winter

by Shari Low

  ‘Oh my, I like the sound of that,’ he said, smiling. ‘Now, I cannot wait to hear how this happened between my Flora leaving here today and now,’ he said, and Shauna could immediately see why Flora adored him. He had the kindest face and a gentle way about him that was endearing.

  Flora sat on the end of the bed, leaving Shauna and Lulu to pull over chairs from the wall under the window.

  ‘We’ve got just over half an hour, so we’ll have to make this quick,’ Flora said, before going on to recount, with much happiness, the events of the last few hours. ‘Oh, Arthur, it’s been such a joy,’ she finished, beaming.

  Between the three of them, they just about had the full story told when the bell rang to signal nine o’clock, the end of visiting hours.

  Arthur reached over and took Flora’s hand. ‘Darling, now that all this has happened, I promise you that as soon as I’m back on my feet, we will find out what happened to George. One way or another, you’ll have all your answers.’ He switched to Shauna. ‘As for you, dear, please do come back, and often. And you too, Lulu.’

  ‘I would love to,’ she assured him, and Shauna could see that she meant it. Lulu was woefully short on family, too. They’d been like sisters since they were infants, brought up together thanks to the incredibly close relationship between their parents, so any gain for Shauna was a gain for her, too.

  Arthur went on, ‘Do you know there was a Scottish singer—’

  ‘I do,’ Lulu said, giggling. ‘I think someone may have mentioned it.’

  He nodded. ‘Excellent. Well, thank you for helping to track down Flora. I haven’t seen my sweetheart looking so overjoyed in years!’

  All three women kissed him goodbye and then waved at the door.

  ‘You know, I should be exhausted after all this excitement today, but I’m brimming with energy!’ Flora announced as they entered the elevator. A middle-aged couple got in at the same time, both of them with dark, caramel tans and wearing bright clothes that were definitely not the typical attire of the Scottish winter.

  ‘Told you it was a waste of time,’ the woman was saying. ‘I can’t believe you dragged me all the way here to just sit in this hospital.’

  The man didn’t look pleased at all. ‘Shut up, Rosemary. Just let me think, okay.’

  Lulu’s right eyebrow immediately raised in irritation, then she caught sight of Shauna’s displeased expression too. They weren’t ones for allowing any man to speak to a woman in that way.

  Shauna gave Lulu a ‘don’t interfere’ stare, just as the woman, who didn’t seem concerned in the least about how he’d addressed her, bit back, ‘Well, hurry up and think of something, because I just want a ciggie and a large drink and I’m only going to get the ciggie here. That son of yours has got way too big for his fucking boots. Who does he think he is? What the hell are we supposed to do now? I’m not bloody staying at his house. Are you sure we can’t just go check into a hotel?’

  Shauna noticed that the veins in the side of the man’s neck had begun to throb. ‘Don’t you ever listen? I just told you upstairs that we couldn’t,’ he hissed. ‘Or have you got some miracle bloody money tree that will cough up the dough for hotels and fine fucking dining?’

  Shauna and Lulu both confirmed their dickhead judgements, then disengaged from the strangers, the comment reminding Lulu of another matter.

  ‘Let’s stop by the café on the way out. I promised John I’d pick him up a coffee and a cake. He’s been an absolute star today.’

  Shauna nodded as the doors pinged open and they alighted. ‘He really has.’

  The other couple stormed past them and out of the front doors. Lulu was about to comment when Flora spoke.

  ‘I’ve been thinking, could I ask something of you?’

  ‘Anything,’ Shauna replied, deciding there was nothing Flora could ask that she wouldn’t do.

  ‘Could we just stop by George’s house again on the way home? I keep pondering how I almost missed you today, and if you hadn’t come back, then we wouldn’t be here now. Let’s give finding my brother one more try.’

  ‘Great idea,’ Lulu agreed. ‘Let me just nip in for John’s coffee and I’ll be right with you.’

  She was back in five minutes, carrying a tray with four drinks and a large brown paper bag.

  ‘Snacks for the car,’ she grinned.

  Shauna laughed. ‘This is what I’m up against, Flora. She does this all the time with Beth. I make her fruit bags, then Auntie Lulu shows up with a selection of treats and my bananas get tossed to the side.’

  ‘I’m trying to buy her affection,’ Lulu told Flora.

  ‘Whatever works for you, pet,’ Flora said, coming in on the joke. ‘Nothing wrong with a bit of bribery in the right circumstances.’

  They were still chuckling when they got back to John’s taxi and handed out the supplies. Four rolls with chips, four carrot cakes and four hot drinks.

  ‘Oh my God, that’s so Annie! She loved a roll with chips,’ Shauna said, revelling in the nostalgia of the moment.

  What a day.

  She’d met her aunt and her lovely husband. She’d gained two relatives.

  As they set off for George’s house again, she knew that there was every possibility that he wouldn’t be in, or no longer lived there, or had sadly passed away.

  She popped a chip in her mouth and glanced skywards once again, sending a silent thought to Annie. You’re doing a great job up there, Gran. But if you could just help us out with George, you’d be totally rocking this day.

  Twenty-six

  George

  They’re still here. I can sense them, just sitting there, saying nothing. Every now and then, one of them will sigh and that’s as close as they get to communication.

  I’ve never been prouder of Tom than when he stood up to them and put them right in their place. But then, I shouldn’t be smug about that because he’s got more right to be furious with me than with them. You see, they were always useless, but he counted on me to have his back, to look out for his interests and what did I do?

  I burned the letter from that lass.

  One of the two biggest regrets of my life.

  Couldn’t do right for doing wrong. This time, I hadn’t interfered, and I damn well should have.

  What was even worse, God forgive me, was that I never admitted it to him. He came back from Australia a year later, a bit broken, a shadow of the bright, positive guy that he’d been. Of course, all Norry’s promises had come to nothing and he’d basically been an extra pair of hands on the decorating and landscaping of their fancy big house. No university. No training. Nothing.

  That wasn’t the biggest problem though.

  ‘I really thought she’d join us out there, Grandad,’ he said. ‘I thought she was just digging her heels in and she’d change her mind. I wrote to her time and time again and she just ignored me. The emails I sent got bounced back. Her mobile phone was disconnected. She just moved on.’ The boy had been so stricken, so bereft that the pain of regret near cut me in two.

  ‘How do you know she got your letters?’ I asked, shamefully desperate for evidence that I was off the hook, that someone else had committed a worse crime in stopping them being together.

  ‘Because I gave every one of them to Dad’s housekeeper and she posted them,’ he replied.

  I should have said something then, voiced my suspicions that Rosemary and Norry were deliberately keeping them apart, but I didn’t. Because I was no better.

  Instead, I kept quiet, and watched as he searched for her. He went to the university she’d been due to attend and discovered that she’d never gone. She’d left the house a couple of months after the family had moved down under. She’d cut ties with everyone he could think of to ask where she was. And she’d left no forwarding address, no contact details, no trail of breadcrumbs… nothing. She’d simply vanished.

  What a sorry state he was in. He only really picked himself up when he went to university to study marketing and s
tarted getting a bit of a life. Although, I was never keen on that Davie one he became friends with. Too slick for my liking. All mouth and no substance, I’d say to Betty.

  University was the making of him though and when he left we were happy to support him until he got the business up and running. Later, he paid every penny back.

  It should have been the happy ending. The triumph. But every single day I thought about that letter, and I’d kid myself that it didn’t matter, that they were too young, that it wouldn’t have worked out anyway… but the truth was that I’d taken the one person from him that he ever loved.

  If I wasn’t such a coward, and wasn’t so scared that he wouldn’t forgive me, then I would have confessed all, but I couldn’t stand the thought of not having him in our lives, so I kept my mouth shut.

  For the umpteenth time in the last few days, I’m wishing I could go back and change my two biggest regrets – interfering in Flora’s life and keeping secrets from Tom.

  Soon enough, our Tom is going to find out what I did. He’s found that lass again, and whether he goes to see her tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, she’ll tell him that she came to see me, that she begged me for help, that she entrusted me with her letter and he’ll know that I didn’t pass it on to him. It’ll eat away at him, as he mulls that over and realises that I didn’t even tell him when he came home looking for her. He’ll be crushed. Devastated. And he’ll look at me in a whole new light. The memory of his grandfather, of the man who he looked up to his whole life, will be tarnished by the stain of betrayal.

  ‘His eyes are watering,’ I hear Rosemary saying, with utter disdain.

  A weeping old fool is more like it, I think to myself.

  My lips are dry, but I wouldn’t want either of these two to tend to me. Not that it would even cross their minds to help.

  Norry does nothing. I can hear him breathing in the chair beside the bed, so I know he’s there. Maybe he’s sleeping. He still hasn’t said a civil word to me since he got here. What was the bloody point of coming?

  ‘Look,’ Rosemary starts again. ‘I’ve no intention of staying at Tom’s place and having his disapproval follow every bloody thing that I do. He definitely takes after his mother, with his bloody judgement and holier-than-thou attitude. Why don’t we just go book into a hotel and then we can get out of here?’

  Norry’s breathing changes and I have a sense of foreboding. ‘We can’t afford a bloody hotel?’ he hisses. ‘When are you going to get your head round this? We can’t afford to be wining and dining, and you can forget about buying anything while you’re here. And we definitely won’t be paying for the funeral out of this old bugger’s life insurance. Saint bloody Tom can cough up for that.’

  Never had I prayed more that by some miracle I could rise from this bed, drag that sorry excuse of a son out of this room, and boot his arse all the way back to the airport.

  ‘Do we have to stay for the funeral? I didn’t bring anything black.’ Rosemary again.

  ‘We might have to. Depends how long it takes the lawyers to sort out the will and release the cash to me.’

  So that is it. Money. I have no idea why or how, but somehow it seems they’ve managed to blow his earnings from the engineering patent. They aren’t here to pay their respects, they are here to feed like scavengers on everything I’ve worked for.

  Well, they’ll be disappointed.

  I desperately want to laugh, to roar with hilarity and watch their faces as they realise this meal ticket isn’t meant for them. Uncharitable, I know. In Scottish law, the child of a deceased person is entitled to a percentage of their parent’s estate, no matter whether a will states wishes to the contrary, but I’ve taken care of that by transferring everything I own over to Tom a long time ago. Norry will be lucky if he gets enough for a flight back to Oz. Although, in truth, I’d pay for that my bloody self.

  ‘Christ, it’s barely past nine o’clock. Today feels like the longest day of my life. Sod this,’ Rosemary says. ‘I’m going out for a fag.’

  ‘I’m coming. Can’t sit here a minute longer or I’ll go fucking mad,’ Norry spits.

  Off they go. And to tell you the truth, I’m relieved.

  Silence.

  I didn’t like it much when I was in the land of the living, but I don’t mind it now. It’s time for a bit of peace.

  I doze for a while, maybe minutes, maybe hours, it’s hard to keep track, until Liv’s footsteps bring me out of it.

  ‘How are you doing there, George?’ she asks and I wonder if it’s day or night. The hours that lass works are ridiculous. It must still be night, because she told me she was on a double shift today, and then off tomorrow. ‘All your visitors are gone for now then. Tom said he’ll be back though, and it’s almost ten o’clock, so I don’t think he’ll be long. He was just going to stop by your house for some things. And your son… don’t actually know where he’s gone to. Perhaps just popped downstairs for a cuppa.’

  I have only been asleep for a few minutes then. Like I said, hard to tell sometimes.

  I feel her put the buzzer back in my hand. ‘I know you’re not likely to be using it, George, but just in case… I’m right outside and I’ll keep popping my head in until Tom comes back.’

  If that lass wasn’t married I’d be praying that my Tom would realise what a gem she is.

  Tom. Just the thought of him is making me feel sick to my stomach. What’s he going to think of me?

  Another thought hits me then. Tom is taking his time in coming back. I know he was mighty irate with his father and wouldn’t be in a rush to get back here to see him, but still. What if…

  The dread begins to ooze from every pore of my skin. What if he’s away seeing Chrissie now? Didn’t he say she was meeting Davie tonight? He gave half a dozen reasons that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go along there, but I know my Tom – he’s got more passion than patience.

  The dread is now burrowing into my bones, as I realise that’s exactly where he is now. Of course he is. He’ll have gone charging in there like a raging bull and tried desperately to make it right with her. More than likely he’ll have punched that Davie one by now too.

  And if Tom’s with her right now… well, soon he’ll know what I did, and I have to face the fact that I might not see him again. Why would he want to come back to this old fool after I’ve let him down so badly?

  So this is how it will end then. My last hours in a hospital, with only my money grabbing son and his wife. In fact, I doubt they’ll be back either, so it’ll be me.

  Just me.

  It’s time. There’s no point in dragging this out, of worrying and fretting, of hoping every set of footsteps coming this way are his and then being disappointed that they’re not.

  I made a mistake.

  I failed him.

  I try to summon up an image of Betty in my mind, to send her a message.

  I’m ready, love.

  I’m ready to come to you.

  Twenty-seven

  Chrissie

  It wasn’t him. It was some other bloke, and his wife/ girlfriend/ sister came right in behind him.

  Chrissie took another sip of her wine, struck by a thought. She’d been so busy contemplating bailing out of tonight that she’d hadn’t given any real consideration to what would happen if he didn’t show. It restored her equilibrium when she realised that the answer was fairly straightforward – she’d call Josie, Val and Jen, they’d come racing over, and the four of them would have a fabulous meal, loads of wine, and some great chat.

  ‘Chrissie?’ The shock almost made her topple her glass. Thankfully it wobbled but remained upright. Bugger. She hadn’t even noticed him arriving and now he was… bloody hell, he was handsome. He didn’t look like that when they were at school. And his Facebook photo didn’t do him justice. He was one of those guys coming out of an exclusive hotel with his jacket slung over his shoulder in an aftershave advert. His dark blonde hair was swept off his face, and he had that male model
jawline, the kind of male models that were in their late thirties and still got work because they rocked a great suit.

  She sent out a psychic vibe of thanks to Val and Josie for upping her game today. If they hadn’t intervened, she’d be here wearing her interviews/ funerals/ any formal occasion jacket and make-up that was purchased somewhere around the dawn of the millennium.

  ‘Davie, hi!’ she said, going for “sexy grin” and worrying that she’d ended up somewhere closer to “is my last snack stuck in my teeth?”

  He half leant down, and she half stood up, and they met in the middle for a hug, the awkwardness covered by an anxious laugh.

  This was why she’d avoided doing this for twelve years.

  Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice her nervousness, or to be in any way uncomfortable. Instead, he summoned a waiter and ordered a Jack Daniels and Coke. Chrissie decided to overlook the fact that he didn’t ask her if she’d like another wine. Maybe he was nervous, too.

  ‘Wow, you’re even hotter than I remember,’ he crowed. Cancel the “nervous” theory. This guy was totally at ease.

  Gino came right over with the menus. ‘Good evening, sir,’ he chirped, with his usual exuberance. Can I get you a drink?’

  ‘Jack Daniels and coke.’

  ‘Certainly. Here is tonight’s menu and I’m sure the lady can suggest something delicious for you this evening.’

  Chrissie had to stop herself from groaning. She knew Gino meant the comment in all innocence, but Davie’s expression told her that he was interpreting an innuendo in there.

  ‘I come here a lot,’ Chrissie clarified after Gino bustled off. ‘I don’t think there’s much on the menu that I haven’t tried.’ Contrary to earlier protestations, she’d give her last bowl of tagliatelle for Josie and Val to come storming in right now and break her free of this anxiety and awkwardness

  The waiter delivered Davie’s drink and he took a slug.

  ‘So…’ he said, when suitably refreshed, ‘you haven’t changed a bit since school.’

  Chrissie smiled, hopefully not inanely this time. ‘I’ve lost the backpack. And the devotion to Westlife. Actually, maybe just the backpack.’