Page 76 of Pansies

At last, he said, “That sounds really hard.”

Fen shrugged. “It’s not quite as peaceful as they tell you. She was coughing in her sleep before she died, trying to reject the barbiturate. Isn’t it strange? The way the body will fight and cling to life, whatever the mind believes.”

“But it must’ve been what she wanted. There’s checks and stuff.”

“Oh, there’s a hundred millionmillionchecks. The whole business is a logistical fucking nightmare.” Fen gave a strange, harsh laugh, half-angry, half-sad. “Makes it so easy to forget what you’re actually doing. There’s never a moment when you think,I’m killing my mother. It’s always,I’m trying to locate a notary to sign this affidavit of domicile.”

Alfie grabbed Fen’s elbow and dragged him back, hard enough to make him stumble. “You didn’t kill your mother.”2

“I helped her die. What’s the difference, really?”

Slowly, Alfie relaxed his grip, took up Fen’s cold hands instead. “What are you doing, pet?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing? Being manhandled on the beach, I think.”

“I meant, why are you saying this stuff to me? Do you want me to be all, ‘Oh my God, he’s a terrible person’?”

Fen was shivering, even with Alfie’s coat. “Isn’t that what you’re thinking?”

“Hell no.”

“Oh?” There was a challenging glitter in Fen’s eyes now. “Then what?”

“I think…” Shit, whatwashe thinking? “I think this stuff is really complicated. And I think you must have really loved your mam and that what you did was really brave.”

“I wasn’t the one who died.”

“No, but it’s harder, sometimes, to live with choices that aren’t yours.” Alfie wished he had more than a few ragged images of Fen’s mother. But it was impossible to find her now because his mind kept filtering her through Fen. He thought her hair was a deeper gold, her eyes bluer, her smile less sharp and fragile, but he still saw Fen in her face, and hers in Fen. “How,” he began, “I mean, why did she, y’know, want to? She was pretty young, wasn’t she?”

“Fifty-six.” Fen tugged his hands free, folded his arms, and hugged his elbows. “Early-onset Alzheimer’s.”3

They climbed higher up the beach, back to where the sand was soft and dry beneath the ragged cliffs. Fen found a piece of fallen limestone, salt-pitted almost to the texture of coral and draped with a velvety covering of deep-green seaweed. After he’d touched it to make sure it was dry, he perched on the edge, bringing his knees up to his chin and wrapping his arms around them.

He looked very small. Practically pocket-sized. Like Alfie could pick him up and carry him off.

But he didn’t say that. Just sat down next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and for a while they were quiet, watching the waves until Fen was ready to speak again.

“She hated it, Alfie.” His fingers twisted restlessly, seeking the edges of the piece of wire he wore. “It’s such…such violation. We think we’re so safe and sacrosanct. That who we are isours. But it isn’t. Alzheimer’s takes it all away.”

“And that was when she decided?”

“Mm-hmm. She said she’d lost enough.”

Alfie reached out, wanting to offer comfort the best way he knew how. But Fen flinched away, drew in a ragged breath, and kept talking. “So I came home, started helping with the shop again and with the…with Dignitas. There’s things you can do, medications that are supposed to slow the progression. There were times when you wouldn’t have known there was anything wrong with her at all. I don’t think we really believed she’d go through with it.” Something like a smile touched Fen’s lips, his voice soft with affection and unshed tears. “Stupid of us. She was always so fucking stubborn.”

“I’m sorry,” said Alfie helplessly. “I just can’t imagine like.”

“It’s okay. There’s nothing to say about stuff like this. Just don’t hate me.”

Enough was enough. Alfie flung his arm across Fen’s shoulders and pulled him in, and after a moment, Fen surrendered to Alfie’s insistent strength. Let himself be held. “How about you don’t be daft? Why would I hate you?”

“Because it’s so painful and messy, and it was the beginning of the end for me and David.”

“Well,” said Alfie, a little too adamantly, “I’m not him.”

Fen turned slightly, untangling wind-stirred hair from the arms of his glasses. His eyes were wild. “Do you really think I did the right thing?”

“If it was what your mam wanted, then yeah.”

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