The Last Thing She Told Me

by Linda Green

  ‘Nicola, please don’t start.’

  ‘It’s not me who’s starting, though, is it? It’s you not behaving like a normal daughter.’

  ‘Come on. That’s not fair. Everyone has their own way of dealing with these things.’

  ‘These things? You mean the death of your mother?’

  Mum looked away. ‘It’s more complicated than you realise.’

  ‘So you keep saying. What would be more helpful is if you actually explained what went on between you.’

  Mum started to walk away down the hall.

  ‘I take it that’s a no.’

  ‘You should get back to your girls,’ she said, stopping and turning to face me. ‘Give them a hug from me.’

  Mum’s eyes were glistening. Sometimes the wall she’d built came perilously close to falling down. If I pushed at a brick, it might topple.

  ‘She said something just before she died. Something I didn’t understand.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She said there were babies at the bottom of the garden. She asked me to look after her babies.’

  For the first time I saw Mum’s face crack. Her eyes widened, and her bottom lip trembled. ‘I wouldn’t take any notice of her. She were probably losing her mind by then.’

  ‘She wasn’t, though. I asked her if she meant her fairy statues, but she was adamant they were babies.’

  ‘She were probably thinking about angels. She used to believe in angels, you know. She told me once her angels would be waiting for her at the end.’

  I stepped outside. Maybe Mum was right. It made more sense than anything I could come up with. It was only after I’d shut the door behind me and heard the anguished sob from the other side that I wondered if she might not be able to tell me the truth, even if she wanted to.

  28 April 1944

  Dear Betty,

  I knew the first time I saw you that you were the girl for me. I didn’t say anything, but I watched you all the time. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I could see you weren’t like the other girls. You were younger, obviously, and so fresh-faced and pure – a proper English rose.

  And, like all roses, you don’t have to shout about your beauty. There is nothing brash about you. In fact, you’re a little shy. But you are also so full of life, of joy. Sometimes I think you might actually burst, you seem so happy. I like that in a girl. Life is so short, we are all aware of that, and I don’t see the point of living it miserably.

  Your smile is pretty much the brightest damn thing I have ever seen. It lights up not only your face but all those around you. That’s why I smiled at you when you walked past me, your hair swishing back and forth, looking pretty as a picture. I couldn’t help it, you see. That’s the effect you have on me. And for the rest of the day I carried the light of your smile around with me. Secretly letting it warm me from the inside.

  You are the girl who makes everything worthwhile, the one I think about from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep. Which is why I decided to write to you to let you know how I feel. Because maybe I’m a little shy too but I want you to know this. That, whatever the future holds for both of us, I will always be grateful for your smile. And I will carry it with me forever.

  Yours,

  William

  2

  When I got home, James greeted me at the door with a hug. There was nothing more guaranteed to get my tears started again.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I know how special she was to you.’

  ‘It hasn’t really sunk in yet. I can’t believe she’s actually gone. I kind of thought she’d hang on forever.’

  James hugged me harder and brushed the tears from my eyes.

  ‘What have you said to the girls?’ I asked.

  ‘Just that you’d be gone for a long time because Great-grandma was very poorly.’

  I nodded. I’d wanted to tell them myself. I still remembered Mum making such a pig’s ear of telling me that Grandad had died when I was thirteen that I’d thought it was Grandma who’d gone. Not that I imagined James would make a hash of it – he’d probably do a better job than me – but I suspected Ruby would take it badly and I wanted to be there for her.

  ‘Where are they?’ I asked.

  ‘In the front room. Maisie’s watching The Worst Witch again. Do you want me to come in with you?’

  ‘Just give us a few minutes,’ I said. He nodded and kissed my forehead.

  I think Ruby guessed the second I walked into the room. She clocked my red-rimmed eyes, then started fiddling with the zip on her hoody. Maisie carried on staring at the screen, seemingly oblivious to my arrival and what it might mean. I had to reach over for the TV remote control and turn it off.

  ‘Mummy, I was watching that,’ Maisie protested. I resisted the temptation to point out that she’d already watched the episode at least four times and it would still be there whenever she wanted to carry on.

  ‘I know,’ I said, adopting my best breaking-news-of-a-death voice as I sat down on the sofa next to them, ‘but I need to talk to you. As you know, Great-grandma was very old and poorly and I’m afraid she died this morning, while I was with her.’

  Ruby burst into tears. I put my arm around her. ‘It was very peaceful,’ I went on. ‘One minute she was talking and the next she was gone.’

  ‘What was she talking about?’ asked Maisie. I hesitated. Telling them the truth wasn’t such a good idea just now.

  ‘One of the last things she said was how much she loved you two. She pointed to the photos of you, said it was like having you there with her.’

  ‘Why didn’t you let us go with you?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘I did ask but she didn’t want to upset you.’

  ‘But I’m upset anyway,’ sobbed Ruby.

  ‘I know, love. But it’s extra sad being with a person when they die.’

  ‘Did she go blue?’ asked Maisie.

  ‘No. People don’t go blue when they die.’

  ‘Not even a little bit?’ I shook my head. Maisie seemed disappointed. ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘The undertaker came to take her to a funeral parlour.’

  ‘Is it like an ice-cream parlour but with dead people and no sprinkles?’

  ‘Sort of,’ I said, managing a smile for the first time since Grandma had died.

  ‘It’s not funny, Mum. Tell her it’s not funny,’ said Ruby.

  I sighed and stroked Ruby’s hair. It was at times like this that I wished I could split myself in half to be the two different mums my girls needed.

  ‘It’s OK, love. Great-grandma would still want us to smile. It’s fine to cry but it’s OK to smile too.’

  ‘What will happen to her body now?’ asked Maisie, unperturbed.

  ‘Well, it will stay in a special cold-storage place until the funeral.’

  ‘Will she be frozen like an ice pop?’

  ‘No, just kept nice and cool.’

  ‘When’s the funeral?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘I don’t know yet. About a week or so, I expect.’

  ‘Will I get a day off school?’ asked Maisie.

  Ruby shot her a look before I had the chance to say anything.

  ‘We’ll talk about whether you want to go to the funeral when it’s all arranged. You don’t have to. It’s completely up to you. Sometimes children like to come and say goodbye and sometimes they’d rather not. We can take you to visit the grave afterwards, if you’d prefer.’

  ‘I want to come,’ said Ruby.

  ‘I do too,’ said Maisie.

  ‘Well, like I said, let’s talk about it more in a couple of days.’

  James came in carrying a tray of mugs. ‘I thought it might be a hot-chocolate moment,’ he said, putting them down on the coffee-table.

  Maisie’s eyes lit up. ‘Do you always get hot chocolate wh
en someone dies?’ she asked.

  ‘Maisie,’ said Ruby, sharply. ‘Mum, tell her.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ I replied, brushing a damp strand of Ruby’s hair from her face. ‘We’re still allowed hot chocolate, you know.’

  ‘Yeah, but she’s being disrespectful.’

  ‘She doesn’t mean to be,’ I said quietly. ‘It’s because she’s young.’

  ‘Why does she always get away with stuff because of her age?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘She doesn’t. You just forget what it’s like to be eight.’

  ‘I was never like that when I was eight,’ said Ruby.

  That was true. Ruby had always seemed much more mature than other girls her age. She had recently turned thirteen but it felt as if we’d had a teenager in the house for some time. She didn’t look like one yet, though, for which I was grateful.

  James squeezed onto the sofa between Maisie and Ruby and kissed each in turn on the top of their heads. Ruby burst into a fresh round of tears.

  ‘I know it’s sad she died,’ said James, stroking her hair. ‘But it might help if you try to remember all the happy times you had with her. You were her first great-grandchild, you know. That’s pretty special.’

  ‘Yes, but she’s gone now, so I don’t have any great-grandparents left.’

  ‘Do I have any great-grandparents left?’ asked Maisie.

  ‘No, love,’ I said. ‘But you’ve both got Grandma, haven’t you? And, er, Grandad.’

  ‘But he’s in pain,’ said Maisie.

  ‘Who told you that?’ I asked, wondering if Mum had said something to the girls, not that she had anything to do with Dad, either, but she heard things second-hand via Facebook.

  ‘No, Maisie,’ said Ruby, ‘I told you Grandad’s in Spain.’

  James started laughing before I did.

  ‘Stop it,’ said Ruby, scowling at us, ‘stop laughing.’

  ‘We can’t help it,’ I said. ‘She does say funny things sometimes.’

  ‘Yeah, well, she shouldn’t. Not when someone’s just died.’

  I picked up Ruby’s mug and handed it to her, hoping the hot chocolate might have a more soothing effect on her than I did.

  ‘And I’ve still got Nanna and Grandpa in Scotland too,’ piped up Maisie.

  I rolled my eyes. I was quite sure she didn’t intend to be so insensitive, but she really did pick her moments. ‘You both have,’ I said. We’d always told Ruby she could call them Nanna and Grandpa too, but she’d refused. She was a stickler for the truth, Ruby. Always had been.

  ‘Maybe we could get up to see them soon,’ said James. ‘Or they might come down at Christmas to visit.’ We knew that was unlikely. They’d moved to Scotland to be near James’s sister and her three young children, presumably having given up on James ever providing them with a grandchild. They weren’t to know he was about to meet a woman with a ready-made one.

  ‘Was Grandma there when Great-grandma died?’ asked Ruby, having taken a few sips of her hot chocolate.

  ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘She didn’t want to be. Some people find these things difficult.’

  ‘But she was her daughter. I’d be there if you were going to die.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, ruffling her hair. ‘That’s good to know.’

  ‘Will I get hot chocolate when you die too?’ asked Maisie, looking up at me.

  *

  After I’d turned out the light, I sat on Ruby’s bed for a long time. Maisie had fallen asleep within minutes. She had breezed through Grandma’s death the way she breezed through everything in life, a casual observer, giving a cursory glance and nod in that direction, then moving on to wherever she was heading next.

  Ruby clearly wasn’t finding it so easy. She lay there, her eyes still moist with tears, staring at the ceiling. I held her hand, not wanting her to cry herself to sleep without me.

  ‘Why wasn’t Grandma there, really?’ she whispered.

  ‘I told you, love. Some people don’t like the thought of being with someone when they die.’

  ‘But she hardly ever went to Great-grandma’s house when she was alive.’

  Nothing got past Ruby. I leant over and stroked her head. ‘They just weren’t that close. Not all mothers and daughters are like us.’

  ‘Had they had an argument?’

  ‘Well, we all have arguments, don’t we?’

  ‘I mean a big one.’

  ‘I don’t know. They were like that for as long as I can remember.’

  ‘But I loved Great-grandma and I love Grandma. I don’t understand why they didn’t love each other.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure they loved each other. But you can still find it difficult to get on with someone you love.’

  ‘Will Grandma go to the funeral?’

  It was a fair question, one I’d been pondering myself, but, unfortunately, I didn’t know the answer.

  ‘I don’t know. I hope so.’

  ‘So do I,’ said Ruby.

  *

  ‘How is she?’ asked James, when I finally made it downstairs to the kitchen.

  ‘Troubled, as ever.’

  ‘She’ll be fine,’ he said, putting his arms around me. ‘Although she’ll find the funeral tough. It’s a tricky one at her age.’

  ‘I know, but I don’t think we’ve got much choice – you know what she’s like. She’s just been asking whether Mum will go.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘That I hoped so.’

  ‘Do you think she will?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know. I rang her when it was clear Grandma didn’t have long left. She still wouldn’t come.’

  ‘How was she when you told her?’

  ‘Pretty detached. She didn’t cry or anything. Well, not until I’d shut the door.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  I sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. James sat opposite and pushed the mug of tea he’d made towards me. I picked it up and warmed my hands around it. ‘Just before Grandma died, she said a weird thing. She said there were babies at the bottom of her garden.’

  James frowned. ‘Sounds like she’d lost the plot.’

  ‘She hadn’t, though, that’s the thing. I told her she was getting confused with the fairy statues, but she was adamant there were babies there. She asked me to look after her babies and that was the last thing she ever said.’

  ‘Maybe she was talking about the girls.’

  ‘When I told Mum she said Grandma believed in angels, that she was probably talking about angels, but after she shut the door, I heard her start crying.’

  ‘She doesn’t like getting upset in front of people, you know that,’ said James.

  ‘None of it makes sense. But it was obviously important to Grandma. She wouldn’t have said it otherwise.’ I wiped my nose on my sleeve. ‘Grandma said something else before she died too. She said she had left the house to us.’

  James looked at me. ‘Really? Wow, that’s incredible.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘It must be worth a fair whack. I mean, we could get somewhere really decent in Hebden with the money it’ll make.’

  I pulled a face.

  ‘Sorry,’ groaned James. ‘That probably sounded awful.’

  ‘No, it’s not that. She didn’t want me to sell it. She said she wanted us to live there.’

  It was James’s turn to make a face. ‘Oh, God. You wouldn’t want to, would you? It’s so dark and grim and it blows a fucking gale up there.’

  I couldn’t help but smile. James had grown up in Leeds. There was only so much rural he was prepared to put up with. ‘I know. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind either but the trouble is, now she’s said it, I’d feel awful going against her wishes.’

  ‘Right.
’ James slumped in his chair. I knew it bothered him that we couldn’t afford anywhere bigger. Somewhere with a garden and a room each for the girls. As much as I loved Maisie, I was damn sure I wouldn’t have wanted to share a room with her when I was a teenager.

  ‘Look, let’s wait until I’ve seen the will and we know for sure what the situation is. I’ve got to go back to the house tomorrow to get all the paperwork I need to register her death.’

  ‘Shouldn’t your mum be doing all of that?’

  ‘Probably. But she won’t go to the house. I’ll let her know when I’ve made the appointment at the register office. It’s up to her if she turns up.’

  *

  I lay in bed later that night, James’s arm still draped over me, though he had long fallen asleep. I couldn’t see much prospect of that for myself. It wasn’t what we were going to do about the house that was keeping me awake, though. It was Grandma’s final words echoing back through the darkness.

  Look after my babies.

  For a long time, he didn’t seem to notice me. Not in that way. I was just a kid to him. An awkward teenager with wonky teeth and legs that were out of proportion to my body. There were plenty of older, more sophisticated women around. The sort of women who wore perfect cherry-red lipstick and laughed as they tossed their perfect hair. Why would he even look at me? But the day I had my hair cut, he did look. I saw him do a double-take as I walked past him. The shoulder-length cut made me look older, I knew that. The hairdresser had said so. Even my mum said so. My hair swished as I walked. It had never done that before. And because it swished I found myself swishing with it. He looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time and smiled. The sort of smile men give women, not little girls.

  My cheeks flushed. I wasn’t quite sure what to say or do, so I kept on walking, aware of his eyes still on me as I passed him. Trying to let my hair swish just that little bit more.

  You always remember it, the first time a man looks at you like that. I felt as if something had changed inside me, a switch had been flicked, and everything was different now. I was entering a whole new world. A world in which I didn’t know the rules, let alone understand them. It was scary but exciting too. Because when you’ve been a little girl for so long, the idea that you might have become a woman is overwhelming. I smiled to myself and somewhere inside me a tune was playing. A grown-up tune, not a little girl’s one.