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Another Day in Winter

Page 28

by Shari Low


  ‘You go right ahead, Rosemary,’ Tom tells her. ‘As I said, you’ll be wasting your time. As for now, though, you don’t belong here. Whether my dad stays to see Grandad’s final hours or not, you’re not welcome. You never cared for Grandad, and you never cared for Chrissie. More than that, your actions cost me twelve years of not knowing I had a son, of leaving Chrissie alone to raise him. Get out of this room and don’t you dare come back, because I never, ever want to see your miserable face again.’

  ‘Are you going to let him speak to me like that?’ she wails, outraged, to her husband.

  ‘Bugger this. Let’s get out of here,’ Norry spits.

  ‘Dad, if you leave, don’t come back, because then I’ll know you only came for what you could get and not for Grandad.’

  That’s it, Tom, you tell him, son.

  More movement and then Norry’s voice, moving away.

  ‘Don’t think for a second you’ll get it all,’ he challenges again. ‘Call me when this is done.’

  ‘So now I know,’ Tom says, and I can hear the sadness overlaying the anger in his voice. ‘Don’t bother going back to my flat for your things, I’ll have a friend bring them to the downstairs lobby of the building. You’re a disgusting specimen of a man and you’re no longer any father to me.’

  ‘Fuck it,’ Norry says. ‘You were always your mother’s son anyway.’

  ‘And I’ve never been more glad of it.’

  The door opens again, and then their footsteps tell me they are gone.

  That’s where we are now. Right now. Just Tom, Chrissie and me.

  ‘I just need to make a quick call,’ Tom is saying. ‘I’ll get Zoe to nip to my flat and take their stuff down. They won’t have unpacked in such a short time. I know it’s pathetic, but I don’t want them going back to my house and going through my things.’

  ‘Zoe, your ex as of yesterday?’ That seems to amuse her.

  ‘Yeah, I know, sounds crazy, but we were friends for years before we were more, and she’ll do this for me. She lives just around the corner and she’s a good person. She’ll understand. I may have to get her an incredible Christmas present though.’

  He leaves the room to make his call and I feel Chrissie sit back down in the big chair to my right, then her hand takes mine.

  ‘I don’t know if you can hear me, Mr Butler, but if you can, then I just want you to know that I will look after Tom. Both Ben and I will make sure he’s happy, I promise. Ben will adore him and I… well, I love him, too. Although, I’m guessing if you’ve been listening to all this you’ll know that already.’

  With just those words, the lass wipes away the shame I’ve been feeling about how I’ve treated her and it’s replaced with peace and gratitude.

  A few minutes later Tom comes back into the room, and as he relays his phone conversation to Chrissie, I realise something.

  It’s selfish of me, I know, but I’m not ready to go yet.

  Only a few hours ago, I told my Betty to come for me, and now I’m hoping she’ll leave me as I am for a little while longer.

  Flora will be back shortly and she’ll be returning tomorrow, and every day after that. There is so much I want to hear about her life and the decades that have gone by. I know my Betty won’t mind.

  The boy, Ben… I’ve only just met him and I can’t bear the thought of causing him sadness by leaving just yet. I’d like to know him better. Like I said, he sounds just like our Tom did when he was that age, and Tom reckons he looks just like him. Imagine that.

  There’s no point wishing for the things that cannot be. I can’t recover from this. I can’t have a reprieve that will allow me to spend time with the youngster and build a relationship with him. Or that will allow me to sit with Flora, in our dotage, swapping stories of our lives and making up for the time that was lost. Knowing that I will be with Betty and Annie again gives me so much happiness and I will gladly take that journey when the time comes. However, the last few hours have given me something to live a little longer for.

  I’ve lost track of time, but I think it will be Christmas Day soon, maybe three or four days away.

  I do hope with all my heart that I can wait a while, that I can hear a little more, that I can feel their hands touching mine through a few more days and nights.

  So Betty, my love, my darling. I am longing to be with you with every fibre of my heart. And Annie, you never were one for patience. But I ask you both, to please, please wait for just one more Christmas so that I can come to you with more to tell of the loved ones we’ve left behind.

  Tom is back in the room, and Chrissie is speaking to him now. ‘I’ve never been prouder of you,’ she is saying, with a tenderness that could make me weep.

  ‘I was about to say the same thing,’ Tom replies. God, he still loves this lass. I can hear it clear as day. ‘It all needed to be said, for George, for me, and for you and Ben. I didn’t stick by you once before, that won’t happen again. Not ever. No matter how things turn out for us.’

  I’m beyond proud of the man that boy has become. Far better than me and a thousand times the character of his father.

  There’s another silence and I wish I could see their faces, read their thoughts.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier,’ Chrissie tells him and I try to think, to go back, but the days and nights are blending together and I’m not sure what she means. Damn this failing body and mind.

  ‘About us, about our future together,’ she goes on, and I’m grateful for the clarity.

  ‘I know I shouldn’t have said it,’ Tom tells her. ‘We’ll talk about that again when you’re ready.’

  There’s movement, and I feel Tom sitting down next to her, in the other chair to my right.

  ‘I’m ready now,’ she tells him. ‘I love you. Always. Only you.’

  Another sound. A kiss.

  I feel my fading heart swell inside my chest and I know now that when I go, today, tomorrow, or the next day, I’ll go a happy man.

  A few moments later I feel Tom’s hand on mine again.

  ‘Grandad, I hope you heard all that,’ he says, and I hear his voice choke with emotion.

  It takes everything I’ve got, but one last time, just for a second, I manage to open my eyes and smile.

  Epilogue

  January 7th, 2019

  The kitchen in George’s house was as busy as it had ever been. The funeral had been a celebration of life and many tears had been shed, but now, hours later, there was only laughter and tales of great days gone by and talk of more to come.

  At the table, Flora sat with Arthur beside her in a wheelchair, next to Shauna and Lulu. They were chatting to Tom’s friend, Zoe, who had come back to the house with the family at Tom’s request. She would be taking over from Davie as Tom’s partner in the firm, now that Davie had decided his future lay in New York. At least the dating scene there would be more forgiving of his ways.

  Val and her husband Don, and Josie and Liv, were over by the breakfast bar, still chatting about the incredible twist of fate that had brought two very different strands of their lives together. Josie had finally met Tom and adored him on sight, although she had informed him he would be on a probation period until she decided whether he was good enough for Chrissie and Ben. He’d promised he was up to the task.

  Ben and Beth were sitting next to each other on the kitchen worktop, both huddled over a game they were playing together on the new iPads they’d both got for Christmas. Beth’s was a gift from her mother, and came with a bejazzled Justin Beiber case from Auntie Lulu, while Ben’s was his first ever gift from his father.

  The two kids had met on Christmas Eve. Shauna and Beth, Lulu and her husband, Dan, and Rosie and her boyfriend, Jude, had touched down at Glasgow Airport and gone to a beautiful old four bedroom cottage they’d managed to rent for the week thanks to a last minute cancellation. Shauna and Lulu had spent a couple of hours at the hospital that night, then they’d all met at George Square, to drink in t
he wonderful spectacle of the Christmas lights and decorations. They’d loved it all, and Shauna was grateful that she was able to join Flora, Tom and Chrissie at George’s bedside when he drew his last breath.

  Norry and Rosemary were not present. They’d returned to Australia on the same day that Tom had challenged them in the hospital. They hadn’t been seen or heard from since and they weren’t missed.

  Still dressed in funereal black, Tom and Chrissie were standing by the back door, the one he’d run in and out of since he was a toddler. On Chrissie’s wrist was a bangle, the one that Tom had bought her when they first fell in love all those years ago. On the inside were the words, “Chrissie, I love you now and always. T xx”

  Turns out that was true.

  Tom put down his glass, but his other hand still held on to the love of his life. He cleared his throat. ‘Everyone, I’d just like to say thank you to you all for being here. Since my grandad died on Boxing Day, I have missed him every minute of every day, but I know that he will be looking down on us right now.

  ‘I still find it hard to believe that so much has changed in the last three weeks. Back then, George and I had each other, but we thought we were the last of our family. I know how thrilled he will be to see that isn’t the case. Ben, he would have loved you and he’d be so proud that you are his great-grandson.

  ‘I will carry him with me always, just as Shauna has Annie. And Flora, you now have us all.

  ‘George was the wisest, kindest, most caring man I have ever known. He was funny, he was strong, and always tried his very best to do the right thing. He was a man of decency and a man of honour. He wasn’t perfect, but then none of us are. However, he taught me what it means to care for and protect the people you love and I hope I can repay him by doing the same with the family we are now.

  ‘I love you all and thank you for being here today as we said goodbye to him.’

  He lifted his glass.

  ‘To George Thomas Butler, may he rest in as much peace as my gran, Betty, and his sister, Annie, are willing to give him.’

  When the rousing cheer was over and the conversations reignited, Tom leant down so that only Chrissie could hear his words.

  ‘George told me to sell this house when I was ready, but I’ve decided to keep it and rent it out, so one day Ben can decide what he wants to do with it.’

  ‘Are you sure? Would your grandad be okay with that?’

  Tom looked over at his son, then back to the only woman he had ever loved. His family. He was making plans for their future, taking care of the people who mattered. And he knew that George Thomas Butler would definitely have approved.

  We hope you enjoyed this book.

  Shari Low’s next book is coming in spring 2019

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  Acknowledgement

  It continues to be an absolute joy to work with the fabulous, inspiring and infinitely supportive Caroline Ridding, and the awesome team at Aria. Thank you for all you do.

  Endless gratitude to Jan and Lyndsay, who are always on hand with laughs and cakes that they assure me are calorie-free.

  And to Liz, Gillian and Gemma, who are family, but also three of my favourite people.

  Finally, as always, buckets of love to my guys, J, C & B who made me approximately 2364 cups of tea in the making of the book. Gents, it must be time to put the kettle on…

  Love,

  Shari xx

  About Shari Low

  SHARI LOW lives in Glasgow and writes a weekly opinion column and Book Club page for a well known newspaper. She is married to a very laid-back guy and has two athletic teenage sons, who think she’s fairly embarrassing, except when they need a lift.

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  Aria is the new digital-first fiction imprint from Head of Zeus.

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  First published in the United Kingdom in 2018 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd

  Copyright © Shari Low, 2018

  The moral right of Shari Low to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN (E) 9781788541428

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