Smile, Alice

by Ellie R. Hunter

  The journey home becomes a blur. Time slows down then speeds up, I can’t keep up. By the time I walk through my front gate, and the taxi driver has helped me with the luggage, it takes me a moment to notice all the flowers and candles in the front garden. Using the torch on my phone, I shine the light around the front garden and find the front lawn covered in flowers, small teddys, photos of Joel and the band, all with condolence cards.

  Looking around, the street is empty. It didn’t occur to me anyone would know back in the UK, but then I remember his page and how the show ended early and Slate going out on stage to explain why.

  I shove the key in the lock and go to push open the front door, but it only budges a fraction. I throw my weight against it and it still doesn’t open. I didn’t leave anything in the hall before we left.

  I don’t need this right now. Leaving the cases in the garden, I walk around the house and let myself in through the back door.

  The house is in darkness and it’s bloody freezing. Flicking the lights on as I walk through the kitchen and hall, I switch the heating on and stumble on a mountain of post.

  No wonder I couldn’t open the front door, there must be over a thousand letters piled on the floor.

  Scooping them up, it takes seven trips taking them into the living room before I can open the door and bring the cases and bags in. I dump them in the hall and return to the mail. Most of them are addressed to Joel, and a few of them are written to me, and of course, some of them are good old-fashioned bills.

  Falling onto the sofa, the house feels so big in comparison to the last time I was here.

  He’ll never walk in this room again.

  He’ll never call out for me to get him something because he can’t get it himself.

  He’s never coming home.

  It all hits me like a lightning bolt to my heart and it physically hurts. A heavy tear falls and is followed by another, and another. Within seconds, I let them all run down my cheeks and I clutch my jumper. I’m racked with sobs and I fall on my side and curl my legs into my chest.

  I already miss him terribly.

  He wanted me to be ready for his death, but if he thought I would be able to roll with it and move on, he was crazy.

  The bells on the carriage clock chime twice at two am. I hear them, but I take no notice. I carry on with my list. I have the name of a funeral home to contact in the morning, and the name of a florist for the flowers.

  There won’t be a wake, so I don’t need to bother with finding a venue and caterers. I start on a list of people I need to call, and I’m stuck after writing down our keyworker’s name and Joel’s friends. They probably know already, but it will be best if they hear it personally from me as well.

  I was hoping it would take longer to organise the funeral. I can’t go to bed, I’ll end up lying there unable to sleep mulling over everything that’s ever happened and been said. A message comes through and I rush over to my phone, which is silly because I have no one now who would send me a text. Only, there isn’t a message on my phone. I stare at the case out in the hall and my mouth goes dry. It came from Joel’s phone.

  Ignoring whoever it is, I dash into the kitchen and grab the bleach and sponges. Averting my eyes from the cases, I head upstairs and start cleaning the bathroom. I’ll have this place gleaming by the time the sun rises.

  I don’t remember much of the walk here, I barely heard a word the funeral director said, but I remember every detail I chose for my brother’s last journey.

  In five days’ time, I’ll be saying my last goodbye and I’ll truly be alone

  The pounding doesn’t stop. People have been knocking on the door for the last three days and I’ve ignored them all. Whoever is knocking today isn’t going away. Throwing the covers off, I chuck on my robe and storm downstairs. The post is mounting up again and I kick it away before opening the door.

  I’m about to be the rudest I’ve ever been when I’m faced with Harry standing on my doorstep.

  “Harry? What are you doing here?”

  Is Damon here with him? I lean out the door and look up and down the street, but I don’t see anyone.

  “This is for you,” he says, handing over a small gift box.

  “Is it from Damon?” I ask, taking it from him.

  “No, it’s from Joel.”

  My stomach drops.

  He doesn’t stick around and briskly walks back to the car. The windows aren’t tinted, so I can see he came alone.

  I haven’t thought of Damon since I got home, and now I feel sick remembering how we left things.

  Closing the door, I tread over the mail, careful not to fall onto the cases that I still haven’t unpacked or moved out of the way, and open the box in the living room.

  Inside is a small flash drive, nothing else, and I exhale. Scanning the room, I find my laptop under the coffee table.

  My hand shakes as I wait for it to load, and insert the drive as soon as it’s ready to go.

  Inhaling deeply, I click on the only file on the drive and a rush of breath escapes me as Joel’s face pops up on the screen.

  My finger can’t click on play fast enough to hear his voice. I could’ve checked his page and watched his uploads to hear him again, but that would mean living through the worst of his illness again.

  “I’m hoping you won’t need to see this, but if you are watching me right now, then you’re doing exactly what you promised me you wouldn’t do.”

  I hold in the tears and run my finger over his face. He’s in the hotel room in Chicago, sitting up in bed and holding the camera himself.

  “You promised me you wouldn’t hide, and push everyone around you away. You’ve never broken a promise to me, don’t start now just because I’m not there anymore. You’re twenty-two years old, you can finally do what everyone else your age does, think of yourself. Like I said, I hope you won’t need to watch this, but I know you too well and that’s why I’m recording this. As much as you helped me, you never helped yourself. I’m scared for you, Alice. If I can’t make you live, I don’t think anyone can get through to you. I have visions of you living alone forever, lonely and unhappy and too stubborn to do anything about it, and one day it will be too late to try.

  “Get up, get yourself dressed, start by going for a walk. You don’t have to talk to anyone, you don’t have to go far, but leave the freaking house. Go down to the shop and buy yourself a family sized bag of Maltesers and a bag of tangy cheese Doritos, I know they’re your favourite. And tomorrow, go for another walk. Go for a walk every day and you won’t be stuck in our tiny house driving yourself mad. I may or may not have more videos for you and unless you leave the house, you’ll never find out.”

  The video comes to an end and the screen goes black. I sit there staring at nothing for a minute.

  My mouth is smiling seeing him again, hearing his voice again, but my eyes are watering because I upset him before he even passed on and I’m still angry that he thinks I can deal with the pain that easy.

  I’m too tired to rationalise anything at the moment. He said there may be more videos, I focus on that and run upstairs to get dressed. I throw on my jeans and a jumper and bung my hair into a messy bun.

  For a moment, I forget what to do when leaving the house. I snap out of it, and slip my boots on. Grabbing my purse and the keys from the kitchen table, I leave the bloody house.

  I bolt out of the gate, I can’t deal with the dying flowers still spread out in the front garden.

  I head up the street and then I stop.

  How will Joel know if I have left the house?

  He’s gone, he can’t know.

  A pain shoots down my neck as I spin too fast to look around me, it will be Damon. Harry brought the flash drive, via Damon.

  He helped Joel fulfil his wish and he’s still doing it.

  Why?

  I begin walking up the street and turn right instead of left, I don’t want to go to the shop. Joel’s suggestion of crisps and chocolate makes
the nausea I feel worse. Instead, I head for the park and pull my sleeves down over my hands. It’s getting colder and I notice the leaves are starting to change colour. Occasionally I see the odd leaf fall from their branches and one even lands on my shoulder. I pick it off and let it flitter down to the ground. I stroll through the park and besides the odd dog being walked by their owners, it’s quiet. I stop by the ponds and take a seat on the nearest bench.

  The water ripples as a flock of ducks’ swim by and I shake my head. Even the ducks have more family than I do.

  I slyly look around without moving my head to see if I can see anyone watching me but there is no one in sight. I’d love another video clip and if no one is around to see me leaving the house, how will I get my hands on them?

  Giving up before my mind wonders down memory lane to the times I would have to come looking for Joel here with his friends, I head home.

  I’m greeted by his cases still sitting in the hall when I open the front door and I decide to finally unpack them. It takes two trips to take them all up to his room and I drag in the laundry basket ready for the dirty washing.

  Unzipping each case, most of his clothes are clean but I throw them in the basket to be washed again. I place his laptop and camera on his desk, and his phone on his night-stand. The screen lights up and the message he received the other night flashes up from an unknown number. He would kill me if he caught me even thinking about snooping through his phone, but he’s not here and I want to know who has been messaging him.

  I take a deep breath and bring the phone to life, I click on the message folder and click on the unopened message.

  It’s the photo of me, Joel and the band in Central Park, with ‘Much love.’ in text underneath.

  Locking the phone, I place it back on the night-stand and turn my back on it.

  I’m not ready to revisit those days just yet.

  I need to feel nothing.

  I need to think of nothing.

  I need the pain to ease up on me so I can breathe again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  There haven’t been any more videos from Joel. I have watched the first video over and over and been going for walks for the last two days and nothing. It’s driving me crazy.

  Today is his church service and cremation and I’m desperate for another video to get me through the day. I was up and out for a walk at five am this morning just to keep busy. I was hoping another flash drive would be waiting for me when I returned, but there wasn’t.

  Pulling out the mugs and plates, I spray the cupboard with bleach and scrub every inch clean. Grabbing the kitchen roll, I dry every surface and put away the dinner set Joel used to tease me about, because I chose the pink set. He said it wasn’t very manly to eat off.

  I move on to the next cupboard and repeat until I’ve worked my way around the kitchen. I wipe over the counter tops again and fill a bucket of hot bleachy water, ready to wash the floor before I leave.

  A knock at the door interrupts my mission to make the window sparkle and I rush to the door. I open it a little harder than necessary and my heart sinks when it’s the postman with another sack full of mail.

  Thanking him, I drag it into the living room and return to washing the kitchen window.

  I was hoping it would be Harry with another video of Joel. He said he may or may not have another one, I guess he didn’t.

  I keep my eye on the wall clock and I have twelve minutes before my taxi arrives. To save money I don’t have, I opted out of a car to drive me to the church. It didn’t make sense to pay just for me. I don’t care about show or how I arrive, as long as I get there. I’d walk if I had to.

  My mum paid for a car to take her, Joel and I to my dad’s funeral and it didn’t make a difference to me. My dad wasn’t with us or even around to see it. Because of his funeral I know what to expect today and it makes it worse to deal with. I’d rather not know what’s coming.

  I wipe over the washing machine and fridge-freezer and throw the cloth in the bucket. I move on to squeeze the excess water from the mop and sweep it from side to side across the floor.

  I mop until I’m backed up into the hall and the doorbell goes. Leaning the mop against the wall, I quickly walk towards the door and this time, I’m glad to see Harry standing before me.

  Dressed in a sharp black suit, he doesn’t hold any boxes, only a batch of keys.

  “Hello, Alice. I’m here to drive you to the church.”

  “Why are you here?” I blurt out.

  “To drive you to the church?” he frowns.

  “You said that, I mean, why are you here in England?”

  “We should get going, you don’t want to be late,” he says, ignoring my question.

  I forget all about the taxi I ordered and slip into my coat. My purse has been ready since last night and I dig out my keys.

  I lock up and Harry is holding the car door open for me. I climb in and the first thing I notice is a phone on the back seat.

  “I didn’t get a chance to say it before, but I’m very sorry for your loss. Joel was a great young man and he deserved more,” he says, before closing the door for me.

  I’m glad he didn’t wait for an answer, a thank you, or something. I don’t have the energy for small pleasantries today.

  Harry takes his seat behind the wheel and pulls away from the house.

  “There is a video for you on the phone,” he tells me, his eyes lingering on me in the rear-view mirror.

  My eyes drift for a moment and without looking, I sweep my hand over the phone and pick it up.

  I bring it to life and click my way into the gallery. There is only one video. No other photos or videos on the camera roll.

  I don’t hesitate to press play, and Joel is looking back at me.

  “So, today is my funeral. I wish I were there for you. I know it’s going to be hard, and it hurts me that there won’t be any other family there to support you. Believe in spirits and believe I’m right there with you. I’ve wondered a few times what my funeral will be like, sometimes I let it play out in my mind, silly I know, but still, I hope you will find a level of comfort laying me to rest. Don’t be sad I’m dead, be happy that I’m not suffering anymore, because I am suffering now. I promised I’d tell you how I’m really feeling, but I can’t do that to you. You would try and help me and there is nothing you can do. I’m in pain, and I’m tired, it’s easy to hide it from you because Damon and the guys distract me every minute I am awake. Between them and you, you have made this journey bearable but I’m looking forward to the end now. Who knows what waits for me on the other side, but every day I’m here, I’d rather take the unknown over this illness and watching you die with me. Say goodbye to the sick me, and remember the young boy who looked up to you and loves you all the world.”

  It ends too quickly, and I double check there are no other videos of him. I unclick my belt and lean forward so I’m sitting between the driver and passenger seats.

  “How many videos are there, Harry?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Please, if you know, tell me.”

  I will beg if I have too.

  “You brought me the flash drive and today, this,” I say, holding the phone up for him to see, “How many are there?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  He almost sounds sad for me, it makes me think this could be the last one. I sit back and go to watch it again. Instead, I send it to my phone, so I can watch it anytime I want when I’m alone.

  “I’ll drive you around the back of the church, it’s been kept clear for you.”

  “Around the back? Why?” I ask.

  “You’ll see why in a moment.”

  He drives around the corner and both sides of the street leading to the church are lined with people. Harry slows down and they’re all holding photos of Joel and holding candles.

  “Who are they all?”

  I can’t take my eyes off them. They watch the car pass them by and it’s eerily quie
t.

  “People who followed his page.”

  “How did they know about the funeral?”

  I haven’t been able to bring myself to look on his Facebook page and it didn’t occur to me to post the details myself.

  “The guys arranged it.” Is all he tells me.

  True to his word, he stops behind the church and opens the door for me.

  “Why didn’t Damon come to pick me up?”

  “You’d have to ask him that yourself.”

  I find myself rolling my eyes and it feels good to know I still have an ounce of bitch left in me.

  The vicar is waiting for us, and ushers me through the back door.

  “How are you doing today, Alice?”

  “Better than I thought,” I admit.

  His eyes shift to Harry and then back to me, before he says, “There have been some changes to the service. Normally I wouldn’t allow them, standing by the family wishes but I was showed a video of Joel expressing his own wishes.”

  Normally, I’d be fuming but I’m eager to find out what these changes are.

  “It’s fine, today is for Joel after all. If it’s what he wanted, then so be it. Can I ask, who came to you?”

  “A fine young man called, Mr Coleman.”

  “When?”

  “You should take your place, Alice,” Harry cuts in before the vicar can speak.

  Intentionally, I think too.

  I enter the main part of the church and it takes my breath away. There are candles lit everywhere and not only that, every pew apart from the front row is filled with people.