Page 120 of The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

‘Okay, Mammy,’ she chirps, instantly appeased.

I take Malcolm’s hand in mine. It’s clammy and cold at the same time. ‘Hang on, Malcolm,’ I whisper. ‘Please, please wait?’

I hear the pitter-patter of Ellie’s feet across the landing. The creak of Shayne’s bedroom door. Some mumbles, and then the hurried thud of Shayne’s feet charging towards us. The door swings open, crashing against the wall.

‘Is he?—?’

‘Shh.’ I place my finger to my lips. ‘I don’t think there’s much time.’

‘My mam,’ Shayne says. ‘We have to call her.’

Although there is much urgency in Shayne’s voice, he seems to find it hard to edge closer. I try to encourage him with a smileas I feel the trickle of tears down my cheek. When he finally reaches the edge of the bed, I swap my hand out for his. He’s instantly lost in his emotion and he doesn’t notice me scoop Ellie into my arms and take her downstairs. I flick on the TV, not paying much attention to which cartoon comes on. I think about telling her that I’m going to go make breakfast, but I don’t trust myself to speak without crying. Instead, I kiss the top of her head and back out of the room while she is distracted by the upbeat antics on screen.

I call Elaine’s mobile from the hall. It rings a single time.

‘Bea?’ she says, and I can tell she already knows.

‘It’s time.’

There’s a sharp intake of breath, and I suspect it’s the sound of her heart breaking. ‘I’m on the way.’

I turn and hurry back upstairs, but I stop on the middle step and sit down. I don’t belong in Malcolm’s room. His family do. My heart aches but I know my place is downstairs with Ellie. I return to the sitting room and climb onto the couch beside her, tucking my legs under my bum as if it’s a mundane Saturday morning back in our old apartment watching cartoons before we tucked into sugary breakfast cereal. The ads are on and Ellie is on her feet dancing to a brightly coloured screen trying to convince her that a talking stuffed blue elephant is exactly what she needs in her life.

There’s a knock on the front door, gentle at first, and I almost don’t hear it over the TV, but it quickly turns to pounding and by the time I reach the hallway it sounds as if Elaine is trying to break the door down.

‘Bea? It’s me. Elaine. Shayne?’

‘Coming,’ I call out.

She doesn’t seem to hear me in her panic as she goes on. ‘Shayne, it’s Mam. Shayne. Are you there?’

I hurry and open the door. Elaine’s eyes are red and puffy and her usually perfect silver bob is bristly with odd strands standing up at free will. I can tell she hasn’t taken the time to brush it. She’s wearing a long grey raincoat that isn’t warm enough for the weather. I can see her pink and cream striped pyjamas underneath. And finally I notice engine-red wellington boots on her feet. I smile as I step aside and wait for her to come in. She doesn’t budge. I’m not sure what to do. It feels odd to invite my boss into her father’s home, and it’s certainly not my place, but Elaine seems stuck. I have to say something.

‘He’s upstairs,’ I finally mumble.

She seems to snap out of her daze and her red-rimmed eyes focus and meet mine.

‘Shayne is with him.’

‘Is he…?’ She swallows hard. ‘Am I…? She gulps again. ‘Is it too late?’

I don’t know the answer to her question. But Malcolm has waited years for Elaine, and I hope with all my heart he can wait a few minutes more.

‘Go,’ I say, choking back tears.

She takes my hands in hers and squeezes gently. Then she kicks off her wellies, with a degree of difficulty as she’s slightly unsteady on her feet. She climbs the stairs slowly, her feet not making a sound as they touch each step. I wish she would hurry, but I know she can’t. Each step is hard for her. Hard to leave the past behind, and even harder to face the future awaiting at the top of the stairs.

Ellie and I watch cartoons for a long time. An hour, maybe two. I’m staring into space, not watching anything on screen, when I finally hear footsteps on the stairs. I hurry into the hallway and see Shayne and Elaine making their way down the stairs together. Shayne’s arm is draped over his mother’s shoulder and she is sobbing, softly. I don’t know if mother andson are speaking, but they are embracing and I know they both so badly need each other right now. I don’t need Shayne to look at me and shake his head to know Malcolm is gone. I feel it in my gut. But when Shayne’s sad eyes burn into mine, my knees wobble and I have to concentrate hard to keep them firmly straight so I don’t crumple. I must be a pillar now. For them. I search my brain for something to say.

‘Can I get you anything? A tea. A coffee?’ I ask. I instantly want to shovel the useless words back into my mouth as soon as they tumble out. What good is a warm beverage now?

Elaine smiles. ‘Tea would be good, thank you, Bea.’

‘Cof…’ Shayne chokes up.

‘Coffee,’ I say for him.

I lead them into the kitchen where just a few weeks ago I spent my best Christmas ever with Malcolm. My stomach clenches, and sadness and heartbreak swirl inside me. I thought my heart broke when Declan left, but I see now that was a bruising. This. Right here, right now, sharing in the Hammingtons’ grief. This is true heartbreak and my God does it hurt.

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