Page 91 of Judging Duke

I handed the phone to Simon, unable to continue.

I walked over to the window overlooking the city and pounded my fists on it, so fucking angry at the loss of her beautiful soul.

Strong arms wrapped around me, and I turned, burying my head in his shoulder. His hands stroked my back, and I sagged against him, barely able to hold my own weight.

“It’s okay, baby. Let it all out.”

“Why, Simon? Why?”

“Sometimes it’s our time to go. Fate has a plan. It was her time. Come on, let’s get you back to bed. Can I get you anything?”

I shook my head. I didn’t want anything but to be comforted.

He led me back to the bedroom and laid me on the bed, covering me with the duvet. I shivered.

Climbing in behind me, he pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I cried until there was nothing left, just dry heaves and a wet pillow.

Death made us selfish. Of course I was sad that she was no longer here, but my tears were for me and Simon and Cyril, knowing that none of us would see her again.

We’d never have to endure her terrible driving again or listen any longer to her subtle flirts, the innuendoes that sometimes even made me blush.

I would miss her…dreadfully.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Forgetting that Simon had only heard my side of the conversation, I relayed to him what Cyril had said. How she’d wanted to die with grace and dignity. I cried all over again, and he held me, not letting me go.

Tired with grief, I fell asleep in his arms, waking again a few hours later. I’d dreamt of nothing, or nothing I could remember, but the realisation of her passing hit me again.

Barbara had been a good friend, and I remembered with fondness her giggle as she’d joked about something Cyril hadsaid. Life would go on for me as normal, but poor Cyril would have to endure the rest of his life without her.

How would he cope?

Simon was no longer in bed, but I could hear him clattering away in the kitchen.

I needed to pee and slowly made my way to the bathroom. I looked at my red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes in the mirror. I looked terrible.

Not having the strength to stand, I sat down to piss, feeling drained of all energy.

I had the headache from hell too and badly needed painkillers.

Wearily, I headed for the kitchen and sat at the breakfast bar, dropping my head to the worktop.

“Here. You might want to take these.”

A glass of water and two paracetamol were placed in front of me. He must have read my mind.

I smiled gratefully and swallowed them down.

“I cancelled your one o’clock,” he said, handing me my phone. “It showed up when you were sleeping. I hope you don’t mind.”

Shit. I’d forgotten all about that.

“No, I don’t mind at all, and thanks.”

I had no lock on my phone, having nothing to hide. I knew that was unusual, but I never saw the point. There was nothing on there of any interest, just my work calendar and contacts. All my important stuff—socials, banking apps, and photographs—were all kept on my iPad, secured with a PIN. Everything on my phone were transferred to the cloud. I’d have hated to lose anything.

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