Page 116 of Toy Boy

“So, he really shouldn’t have left hospital, should he? He shouldn’t have been discharged so soon?” Tania asks, and I can tell she’s so very close to breaking down again.

“This is something that could easily have gone undetected. Unnoticed. It might not evenbethat, we’ll have to wait for the results of the post mortem for a clearer picture. But this was nobody’s fault, Tania.”

Her shoulders sag as she wraps her arms around herself, she’s defeated now. Done. There’s no fight left in her.

“I’m so sorry. You can spend as much time with him as you want, we won’t move him until you’re ready.”

Tania shakes her head. “I don’t want to remember him like that.” She looks at me, and she tries to smile. “I’ve already said goodbye.”

“Well, if you’re sure, I’ll contact the funeral directors and arrange for them to collect Scott’s body. Is that okay with you, Tania?”

She nods and drops her gaze.

“Alright. I’ll go and do that now.”

“Thank you.” I watch as he gently closes the door behind him, and I look back at Tania.

“It could be a while before they come and collect him, couldn’t it?” she asks, without looking up.

“I don’t know. Are you sure you don’t want to go and sit with him?”

She nods. “I’m sure.” And I don’t know what to say to her now, but thankfully I’m saved from having to say anything by the doctor coming back into the kitchen.

“They funeral directors will be here in about half an hour. I’ll stay until they arrive, if that’s okay?”

“Of course. I’ll get you a cup of tea.”

“Thank you. Is there somewhere I could go to write up the paperwork?”

“There’s an office across the hall. You can use that,” Tania replies, and as soon as the doctor has his tea he leaves the kitchen, and we’re alone again. “Does he have any family?” Tania asks. “Scott, I mean. Only, there’s the funeral to organise…”

I lean back against the counter and sip my tea. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Don’t worry about that right now.”

“You’ll stick around, won’t you? I don’t think I can do this on my own.”

“I’m not going anywhere. We’ll help each other through this, Tania. Okay?”

She smiles a weak smile and once more drops her gaze, and I close my eyes and try to forget how tired I am, this night is a long way from being over. And for the next half an hour or so we drink tea and sit in silence, the only sound is the TV on low volume and the ticking of the clock. Until more voices are heard out in the hall, signalling the arrival of the funeral directors.

“Can you deal with that, Megan? Please?”

She doesn’t look at me when she asks that, her eyes are on the small TV fixed on the wall next to the fridge. There’s a shopping channel playing, they’re selling some kind of mini-oven that, apparently, does a multitude of things.

“Of course.” I’m surprising myself with how much I’m managing to keep things together, because I have no choice. Falling apart isn’t an option, Tania needs me to be strong. At the minute, she seems okay, given the circumstances. She’s calm, but that means nothing. It’s the shock that’s making her numb, and that might help get her through the next few hours but the pain will be back. The grieving will carry on.

I close the kitchen door behind me, and head out into the hall; talk to the funeral directors, and I wait as they go upstairs; watch as they carefully manoeuvre the thick black bag containing my ex-husband’s lifeless body down the stairs before wheeling him out of the house and into the back of the black, private ambulance.

“Has he gone?” Tania asks, coming out of the kitchen, clutching her mug of tea. And that’s a rhetorical question, because she can see what’s going on through the open front door. She can see them slide the trolley carrying Scott’s body into the ambulance; see the neighbours who’ve come out to see what’s going on at this unearthly hour, the blue flashing lights of the paramedics’ ambulance that was here earlier no doubt having alerted them to something out of the ordinary. But they should really go back inside. I’ve always found it rather ghoulish to watch other people’s despair like it’s some kind of spectator sport.

“He’s gone.” I lay a hand on Tania’s shoulder as we watch the doctor and the funeral directors pull away, and drive off. “Come on. Let’s go back inside. I think we could both do with something stronger to drink than tea.”

Closing the front door behind us, I follow Tania back into the kitchen, and I know I have to make a few calls now, let people know what’s going on, but I want to wait until Tania’s asleep before I do that.

She sits back down at the table, still clutching her mug of tea while I root around in the cupboards until I find a half empty bottle of brandy. That’ll do. I grab some tumblers and pour out two generous measures before joining Tania at the table.

“Here. This might numb the pain a bit.”

She looks up at me, and smiles the smallest of smiles as she pulls the tumbler towards her. “Thank you, Megan.”

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