Page 71 of Too Busy for Love

‘He’s very proud of you,’ I tell her. ‘He’s never once said he wished things were any other way. Every time I’ve visited him, he’s told me your latest news. It’s funny. This is the first time we’ve met in person, but in many ways, I feel like I know you already.’

We’re still holding Reginald’s hands between us, but she lets go and moves her hand so it’s on top of mine.

‘Thank you,’ she says, with a tremor in her voice. I look up to see tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘You’ve been such a good friend to him.’

‘He’s a good friend to me,’ I assure her, as my own tears start to fall again.

We sit there for what feels like an age, either side of Reginald’s sleeping body. Although we don’t speak, I can feel a silent understanding pass between us. Eventually, the nurse tells us that visiting time is up, and we head for the door together. It turns out that she’s rented a flat quite close to the one I’m staying in, so we share a taxi.

‘Will you come by and see him again some time?’ Jeannie asks when we pull up outside my flat.

‘Of course. I’ll come as often as I can.’

‘He’ll like that. Goodnight, Beatrice.’

‘Goodnight, Jeannie.’

If Monday morning were going to reflect my mood, the sky would be slate grey and rain would be falling steadily. However, it’s a perfect autumn day, crisp, with a chill in the breeze, but the sun is shining brightly and there isn’t a cloud in the sky.

‘Are you all right, Flops?’ John asks as we’re dealing with a plumbing issue in one of the bedrooms after the morning stand-up. ‘You don’t seem quite yourself today.’

‘Sorry. Just got a few things on my mind and I didn’t sleep very well last night. Nothing you need to worry about.’

‘Would you like some good news?’

‘I always like good news, John. What have you got?’

Before he gets a chance to tell me, we’re interrupted by one of the chippies. ‘Sorry to bother you, Beatrice, but there’s a woman outside asking for you.’

I follow him downstairs and my heart breaks as soon as I see who it is. There’s only one reason Jeannie would be here.

‘When?’ I ask as she wraps me in a surprisingly fierce hug.

‘Last night,’ she says. ‘Barely an hour after we left him. Another massive stroke. The nurse said it was peaceful, but they always say that, don’t they? I should have been there.’

‘You didn’t know this was going to happen,’ I reassure her through my tears. ‘And maybe he wanted to be alone at the end. I read an article once that said that some people seem to manage to hang on until they’re alone so they can go quietly without an audience.’

‘I’m on my way to collect his things and the paperwork to give to the funeral directors. I know it’s an imposition, but would you mind very much coming with me? I’m not sure I can do this on my own.’

‘Of course I’ll come with you,’ I tell her. ‘Let me just tell my colleague where I’m going.’

By the end of the afternoon, I’m wrung out. Little things have set me off all day, like the sight of Reginald’s wristwatch among the possessions that the hospital handed over along with the medical certificate detailing the cause of death. I went with Jeannie to register the death at the registry office, and then to the funeral directors that Hazel recommended when we called in at the retirement home to break the news. Standing in his sitting room, where I’d spent so many happy hours drinking tea and chatting with him, was another tearful moment. His ‘whizzy’ chair looked so sad and forlorn, as if it knew he’d never sit in it again, and that set me off even more.

‘I know it’s probably way too early to think about this stuff,’ Jeannie had said as we’d sat on the sofa together, just letting the emotions pour out, ‘but if there’s anything you want to take, to remind you of him…’

‘You’re very kind,’ I’d told her.

‘I’m not a religious person, particularly, but I like to think he’s somewhere up there, reunited with Mum,’ she’d said after a long pause. ‘He’s young again and full of vitality. That’s how I want to think of him, anyway.’

‘I think you’re right,’ I’d agreed.

‘It’s just a shame he’ll never see The Mermaid back on its feet. He loved that place.’

‘Jeannie,’ I’d said as an idea had come to me. ‘There is something I’d like, actually, but I don’t need it for long.’

‘You can have whatever you want, I’ve already told you that.’

I’d pulled open the drawer where Reginald’s wedding album was and turned the pages until I came to the picture of him and Annie standing in the lobby of The Mermaid.

---