Page 52 of Before You Say Goodbye

“Autumn . . .” He laughed gently, shaking his head. “You already are home.”

* * *

For the first time since Bowie had left the hospital, the Whittles were all sitting together in the living room. Autumn searched for Bowie, who was propped up in an armchair in the corner. He held his arms out to her when he saw her and pulled her down onto his knee. She protested at first — she knew Bowie’s hips and back were causing him great pain even without the weight of her pushing them out of position — but he was insistent. He held her tightly to him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her neck. She returned his embrace and he winced. She wasn’t sure if that was because he was hurting physically or because she didn’t tell him it was OK.

Marley perched on the arm of the sofa beside his mother, who patted his leg affectionately. Ben poured Autumn a glass of wine, winking away the apology she tried to offer as he did so. They were all making eye contact with one another again, and Autumn knew that they’d been talking through their issues while she’d been in the garden. The air felt lighter already.

“Right . . .” Emma began, clapping her hands together gently.

“Mum, I don’t think you’re the best person to lead this,” Pip said. Emma clamped her mouth shut, a dejected expression on her face, but she didn’t object.

“This is Bowie’s meeting really.” Marley gestured towards his brother. Their gazes lingered on one another and Autumn knew they were communicating love and hurt, apology, concernand betrayal all at once. Bowie turned away first, leaving a wounded-looking Marley bereft.

Bowie sighed, rubbing his free hand across his face. He looked so tired. Autumn wanted to wrap him in a blanket and cradle him to her chest. He was frail and she noticed with a start just how much this disease had taken a toll on his appearance. He’d lost weight, and his hair looked dull and unhealthily coarse. His skin was pasty and clammy. There were new lines on his brow, formed by constant frowning. The sparkle in his eyes was still there, though. Overcome with love, Autumn kissed him lightly on the cheek. He turned to smile at her, leaning in to peck her gently on the lips. For a moment it was just the two of them there in consciousness, and they were happy and problem-free. A moment later, Bowie cleared his throat, turning to his family.

“Dad and I called this family meeting because we want to sort things out. I don’t think any of us have been enjoying the way things have been lately. I love you all . . .”

His eyes met Marley’s once more and his words stuck in his throat. Bowie buried his head in Autumn’s shoulder, taking a minute or so to compose himself. When he spoke again, he was breathless with rage.

“I love you all, but I’m so fucking angry. Every time I feel a twinge of pain I feel furious with all of you. I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be feeling this, and—”

Emma tried to interject, but he snapped at her.

“I know why,” he hissed in her direction.

“Bowie . . .” Ben said warningly.

Instantly contrite, Bowie took a deep breath and held his hands up. “I’m sorry, Mum.”

It was the first hint of restraint Autumn had seen in him for weeks. Bowie had spat much harsher words at his mother in the days following his resuscitation. Autumn smiled subtly and knowingly at Ben, who nodded poignantly in reply. Ben hatedit when any of his children insulted their mother. He’d allowed Bowie a grace period for his anger, but that was over now. There was no way he would let his son speak to Emma like that any longer. She was their mother, she had created them and was their most ardent supporter. Her unwavering love for them demanded their respect as far as Ben was concerned and Bowie would obey his father because he valued Ben’s opinion probably more than he valued anyone else’s.

Emma smiled meekly and apologised for interrupting Bowie. He took another deep breath and continued.

“I can’t put myself in your position. If I were losing any of you, I know I’d probably be exactly the same. But I do need you to put yourselves in my position because I’m the one who’s going through this. I know you all have visions of me slipping away peacefully while you sit around my bed and hold my hand, but it might not be like that. It might be as ugly as what happened a fortnight ago. You’re still going to have to let me go.”

“I will, Bowie,” Pip blurted. Emma glared accusingly at her youngest son, but he ignored her. “I’ll throw myself on top of you to stop them next time if I have to.”

Bowie nodded sadly at his little brother and Pip looked relieved. Autumn relaxed a little bit. Pip and his feelings were often overlooked because Marley and Emma were so expressive about losing Bowie and how it made them feel, but the youngest Whittle had confided in her several days before that Bowie’s anger at him was destroying him and he was too afraid to apologise in case Bowie refused to listen. His brother rejecting him would break Pip’s sensitive heart.

“So will I,” Marley said. His voice sounded strangely strangled, as though he was physically squeezing the words out past his vocal cords. “You know I don’t want you to die, bro, but I don’t want to see you like this either. What we did was wrong.If you collapse like that again, I, for one, am prepared to let you go.”

Bowie raised his eyes to meet his twin’s.

“I promise,” Marley added. Autumn felt the tension seep from the room. Bowie nodded.

Ben spoke next.

“We are sorry, Bowie. We weren’t as strong as you needed us to be. You’re right, it wasn’t how we’d imagined the end. We couldn’t cope with how it was happening. We were wrong, son.”

Bowie closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them to look at Bluebell.

“What about you?”

She was hugging her knees to her chest and rocking backwards and forwards on the floor. Her eyes darted uncomfortably between them all.

“I’ll do the same thing I did last time. Nothing. Don’t ask me to do anything more, Bowie. I’m not strong enough to do anything to help you die, but I won’t try to stop it if it happens.”

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