by Beth Thomas
Abby is just shaking her head, a bit sadly actually. ‘No, Daisy, you’re completely wrong. Completely.’
‘Oh. Well what then? Why’s he there?’
‘It’s not for me to tell you, it has to come from him.’
‘What?’
She shakes her head. ‘Not telling you. I’m sure he’ll fill you in in his own time. Especially now you’ve been round to his place already.’ She smiles broadly and rubs my arm. ‘He obviously likes you a lot. Nice work, Daisy Duck.’
The way she says it reminds me of someone talking about their pet when it won’t stop harassing you. Usually it just means that they want food, or that they find your lower leg sexually irresistible. But Felix has given up so much of his time for my benefit over the past couple of weeks, walking with me, putting up with my moods, always cheerful, never grumpy or mean. And now today, making me lunch. I’ve always assumed he was doing it as a favour to Abby. Look at her, what sane, red-blooded man wouldn’t want to do a favour for her? But suddenly now, when I think back to his awkward invitation to lunch today, his warm brown eyes gazing at me with concern, his big hand gently holding mine, it finally hits me that it seems he does like me, not just for my legs. And what’s more, I’m absolutely sure that I like him too.
‘Abs, I think I need to go out again.’
Felix’s house is just up the road and round a corner from Abby’s, which presumably is why they’re friends, but even though only about twenty minutes have elapsed since I left here earlier, the house is deserted. After ringing the doorbell three times (it plays the chorus of ‘Barbra Streisand’ by Duck Sauce) I peer in through the front window but there’s no sign of him. He could of course be out the back in the conservatory reading Stephen King on Winnie’s Kindle, or lifting some weights in the state-of-the-art gym, but the place feels empty.
I turn round and go back to the pavement feeling anxious and fidgety. I need to find him, now. This won’t wait.
My phone quacks in my pocket. I start walking as I pull it out of my pocket distractedly, not really interested in what Facebook might want to tell me.
Wait, what?
I actually stop on the pavement and think about that for a few moments, but incredibly find that it’s true. In fact the quack alerting me to a message is more of an irritating interruption in the day’s proceedings than anything else and I only open up the app and read the message because I have no idea what to do next to find Felix.
Abby Marcus Go to the church.
I stare at the message for a few moments. It feels like a clue. If I do as she says and go to the church, I’ll find an arrow carved into a tree or a grid reference on a tombstone or something. And I’ll follow it and find the next clue, and then the next. Maybe it’s Abby’s roundabout way of getting me to walk some more. Not her usual style, I have to say. Usually, she just instructs me to do it and I do. But she’s obviously trying to keep me interested after all this time, so I’ll humour her and go to the church. It reminds me of a treasure hunt Mum set up for my thirteenth birthday. I was expecting a few clues round the house and garden, but she’d spent the entire previous day tramping across the countryside tying different coloured string to tree branches and laying out stones in the shape of arrows. The clues she had written to take us to each subsequent clue were so cryptic that a helicopter pilot looking down that day would have seen the countryside dotted with stationary children, scratching their heads over scraps of paper. I was paired with Caroline Watson and we went wrong so many times we must have covered over ten miles by the end of the day. Darren and Lee’s team, the blue team, was the only team to complete the course. Caroline and I eventually made a detour to a phone box after four and half hours of searching fruitlessly for a ‘red cow’ and Graham had come to pick us up. ‘Red cow?’ he’d said in the car, ‘you’ve just used the phone box that stands in front of it, you pair of numbskulls. It’s that pub right there!’ He’d laughed hard, wiping his eyes and coughing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath and had to pull the car over and spit out of the window. The blue team had won the prize, and fortune and glory and pudding had been lavished on them for the rest of the day. ‘The treasure hunt winners get to pick where they want to sit; the treasure hunt winners get to go first; the treasure hunt winners can have the last walnut whip.’ It was, of course, my birthday.
At the church I enter through the graveyard and wander among the graves for a few minutes in the sunshine, waiting for Abby’s next clue. It always strikes me as odd that the sun can still shine in a graveyard. There should be some kind of dome over each one to stop the brightness from penetrating. There are a few people here visiting their loved ones, placing flowers or toys or little knitted bootees. My throat starts aching as I see them and my eyes feel hot, and I am hit once again by how absolutely final death is. How bizarre it is, how incomprehensible that someone alive, moving, breathing, speaking, loving, can just stop. For ever.
Over to my right is a figure squatting down, removing some wilting blooms from a little white vase at the headstone. I hear a voice talking, low and murmuring, and can tell from the pitch that it’s a man, although I can’t make out the words. I don’t want to make out the words. He shifts and moves to stand so I start to turn away, but in that last moment before I turn I realise that I recognise him. It’s Felix.
NINETEEN
Georgia Ling
Soooo hate waking up wiv an awful headache wen I hav’nt even had a drink the night before lolzzzz
Simon Stiles Aw hunni you feeling rough
Mike Green you better start drinking then!!!
Karen Fleet you going in tomoz? I got that jacket for you xx
Georgia Ling yeh hunni im ok thanx xxxx
Sarah McCarthy what you been doing?
Georgia Ling Dunno hun, getting cold maybe. You ok? How’s things? How long you got to go now? xxxx
Sarah McCarthy All good thanks. Only 4 weeks left. Jake’s so excited. When you coming to see us?
Michelle West Poor you. Feel better sn. Xxx
Georgia Ling Will come next month, hun. Difficult to get tym of work. How’s Glenn?
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Mum’s not in this graveyard. She was cremated and her ashes sprinkled in the park. But it doesn’t make any difference really; all these places remind me of her. Well, not so much of her. Of her death.
Naomi wasn’t there in the final minutes. Neither was Graham. Graham was in hospital and Nomes and I had been sitting at Mum’s bedside for four days, round the clock. Russell brought food and drinks in every day, and we went outside in the hospice grounds every so often for fifteen minutes of fresh air. We slept sitting up or resting our heads on her bed, and when she was awake we tried to make conversation, or read to her. Nurses came and went, changing her bed, changing her water, changing the dressings on her sores. Shifts ended, new people started, then they got relieved and the first lot were back again.
‘Still here?’ they asked kindly. It was such a loaded question. We nodded, dreading it ending; longing for it to.
On the fourth day, Naomi and I got the giggles. It was nervous energy or exhaustion or a combination of the two probably. Or perhaps our attempt to cover up the full horror of the situation we were in. Mum was dozing and, in spite of the fact that her body was systematically shutting down, organ by organ, and her frame had shrivelled away to bone, her empty stomach still demanded nourishment, still set off the audible alarm to alert us to the fact that she needed sustenance to survive. She grumbled and growled and bubbled and squeaked and Naomi and I looked at each other in surprise. It was such a pathetic but valiant final effort being made by what was left of her survival functions, it seemed like little David fighting against the Goliath of cancer. And it was so loud.
‘Good God,’ Naomi said. ‘Did you hear that?’
I nodded. ‘Yeah. I thought it was thunder for a minute.’
She smiled. ‘I thought it was a lorry going past outside.’
‘Well I thought it
was a plane going overhead.’
‘I thought it was a plane landing in the car park.’
‘I thought it was a plane crashing in the car park.’
‘I thought a whale had fallen out of a tree.’
‘I thought a horse had fallen down the stairs.’
By the end of it, we were doubled over laughing, wiping away tears, trying to keep it silent and not disturb either Mum or anyone else. It was the most we’d spoken to each other throughout the whole ordeal.
‘Look,’ Naomi said, once we’d got our breath back, ‘there’s been no change for such a long time, do you think it would be safe to risk one of us popping home for a wash and change of clothes, then coming back so the other one can go?’
I looked at the tiny form under the blanket. Her chest was completely still. Then after about ten seconds it rose slowly with a breath in, and lowered with the breath out. Then was still again for another ten seconds. I willed it to keep on going. I willed it to stop.
‘OK Nomes, if you want. But be quick, OK?’
‘Oh, shall I go first then?’ She was already standing up. ‘OK, if you want me to. I’ll be as quick as I can. See you later.’
About ten minutes later, Mum opened her eyes and looked at me properly for the first time in days. I leaped up off my chair to her side, and she smiled as I leaned over her.
‘Hello, love,’ she said softly. ‘You’re here.’
‘Course I am, Mum. Where else would I be?’
‘What day is it?’ So odd, the things she felt she needed to know.
‘Thursday.’ I didn’t really know, but I figured it didn’t matter if I got it wrong.
‘Oh. Thursday.’ She just looked at me for a long time, and I took her hand and stroked it. She glanced to the other side of the bed, then back at me. ‘Where’s Nomes?’
Oh shit. The first time she’d been aware of anything for ages and Naomi happened not to be here. ‘She’s just popped home for a minute. She wanted to have a shower and see Russell for a bit. She’ll be back soon.’
‘Oh, Russell. Right. Russell.’ He voice trailed away and she closed her eyes.
‘Mum?’
‘Mmm?’ She didn’t open them.
‘Do you want anything? Something to drink maybe?’
‘No, no, love … s’fine …’ She drifted off again. Fifteen minutes later, she was gone.
I rang Naomi’s mobile. ‘Nomes, can you come back now? Please come back.’
‘Why? What’s happened? Oh God, she hasn’t …?’
‘She’s gone, Nomes. She’s gone. Please come back. Please. Please come back.’
I’m not sure Naomi ever forgave me. Especially as I was the one responsible for her death.
Suddenly I feel as though I’m intruding on something for some inexplicable reason. Maybe because I’m watching a man lovingly tending to a grave without knowing I’m here. I glance around quickly, madly looking for a place to hide, but it’s too late, he turns and sees me. A strange expression flits across his face but almost immediately gives way to smiling surprise. He glances once more over his shoulder at the grave, then walks over to where I am.
‘Hey there,’ he says, a little bit uncertainly. ‘Nice to see you again.’ He pauses. ‘So soon.’
‘You too.’
He raises his eyebrows. ‘Really? ’Cause the way you rushed off home so suddenly earlier, you know, right after telling me such a devastating piece of news, I kind of felt that you wanted to be in a different place to me.’
‘You’re very perceptive.’
‘Yeah I know. It comes from years of living around other humans. You start to pick up subtle nuances in behaviour.’
‘Oh, yes. I see.’ We stand awkwardly for a few moments while we both wait for me to apologise. ‘Look, Felix, I’m sorry I rushed off so suddenly like that. It was such a lovely lunch and it was very …’
‘Ungrateful?’
I look up at him sharply, but his face isn’t angry. He looks very peaceful, actually. ‘Yes, yes, you’re right, I was a bit ungrateful. I am grateful to you, I really am, and not just for the food. You’ve been so kind, giving up your time to help me out with my training, keeping me going … And as well as rushing off rudely after lunch today, sometimes I’ve been a bit moody and stroppy with you. You didn’t deserve that.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ He looks at me long and steady and I feel my face starting to go hot. ‘We rarely get what we deserve, little Daisy,’ he says solemnly, and I immediately think it has something to do with the grave he was just visiting. And just where exactly is Aunt Winnie? Because the story about her going walkabout simply doesn’t ring true. She must be about a hundred and two, don’t they stop you flying when you get to a certain age, in case you die on the plane? Has Felix been lying to me? Is he hiding some terrible secret about his great aunt, pretending to the world that she’s in Oz, but really she’s … I glance nervously over at the grave but I can’t investigate further because he’s looking at me still and starting to move towards the gate leading back to the road.
‘Coming?’ he says.
So I have to follow.
‘I want to explain,’ I start, as we walk together back towards Abby’s.
He shrugs. ‘You really don’t need to. It doesn’t matter.’
‘No, no, I do. I want to. Or at least, I want to give you the edited version of events. I’m sure you’re not interested in going into the whole …’
‘You know, I actually am interested in the hole,’ he says, and at last I can hear a smile in his voice. I find myself relaxing with relief. ‘It sounds like a cool place.’
‘What hole?’
He grins at me and it’s like the sun coming out. ‘Doesn’t matter, Queen Duck. None of it. Really. I totally get it.’
‘You do?’
He nods. ‘Yeah. Sometimes people can just be … unhappy. It happens. Especially if there’s something … Especially if they’re angry at the world. But you can’t be angry at the world. It’s not possible. So you direct your anger at one person.’ He turns and looks at me frankly. ‘Even if that person is really,’ he pauses for dramatic effect, ‘really nice.’
‘Right.’
‘So, are you angry at the whole world, Daisy Duck?’ His voice is very low and soft and I feel a slight tingle somewhere.
‘Am I …? I … don’t know. I have been … I am very upset. I have been very upset. For a long time. I’ve been a bit … stuck.’
He nods, as if he understands exactly what I’m talking about. ‘Are you still stuck?’ We’ve stopped on the pavement and he’s standing very close to me, bending his head down, looking into my face.
I stare back up at him and can almost feel the warmth radiating from the nearness of his body. Am I still stuck? Tentatively, I feel around the area where Mum and Graham are resting in my mind, thinking back to the apocalypse that happened to me five months ago; and the second, slightly less destructive one, three months after that. Because a second cataclysm can’t do much damage when there’s nothing left to destroy. I zoom in on myself, a tiny white speck curled on its side with its arms over its head while violent hurricanes and tempests raged on around it. But it wasn’t tempests; it was life continuing, events happening, people doing things. I was shielding myself from harm by shielding myself from life.
I give Felix a weak smile, and shake my head. ‘I don’t think I am.’
He raises his hand and very gently strokes my cheek with his thumb. ‘Then, Daisy, Queen of Ducks, I am happy.’
He smiles at me, turns, and strides very briskly away.
‘Abby!’ I call out as I erupt through the door. It bangs on the wall behind it and almost hits me in the face. ‘Abby? Where the hell are you? I need to talk to you. Abby! ABBY!’ I’ve made it back to the flat – must stop calling it ‘home’ – in under five minutes and have only one thing on my mind.
Abby puts her head gingerly round the living room door. In the background I hear Tom Hanks quoting from The G
odfather.
‘I’m here,’ she says quietly, with wide, anxious eyes. ‘What can I do?’
I seize her by her arms and pull her fully into the hallway. ‘Oh, Abby, you wonderful, gorgeous, beautiful friend.’ I’m bouncing while holding her hands, and she relaxes and grins delightedly, while she starts bouncing with me. ‘Please tell me about Felix.’
Her expression takes on a kind of wise old lady appearance. She stops us bouncing, then nods slowly, smiles knowingly and leads me by the hand into the kitchen. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘Everything. Everything!’ A grin bursts out of me, I clasp my hands together and start bouncing again. ‘Anything you know about him. Right now, please.’
She nods. ‘So I’m guessing that you know about his wife?’
I stop. Stop grinning. Stop jumping. Stop breathing.
‘Fuck,’ Abby says, and pulls out a chair. I sink into it, and put my forehead on the table. ‘So I’m guessing that you don’t know about his wife? I’m sorry, Daze, I thought, from the way you were, that he’d told you all that already. Although he doesn’t talk about it much. They got married about four years ago, I think. Gorgeous wedding – I’ve seen the photos. And she – Alice – looks very pretty. Although most people do look pretty on their wedding day, don’t they? Anyway, I think they were only married for about two or three years …’
I raise my head. Were married? ‘What happened?’
Abs shrugs. ‘I don’t really know. He’s never gone into detail, and it’s not really the sort of thing you ask, is it? As far as I know, one minute she’s at the doctor’s with double vision, three weeks later she’s dead.’
It hits me like a spade to the head. I literally sway in my seat and have to grip the table to steady myself. ‘What?’ It’s barely more than a whisper.
