Page 121 of The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

Shayne and Elaine sit at the kitchen table. They talk about funeral arrangements. Songs he might like. How he should wear his favourite coat.

‘He loved the outdoors,’ Elaine says.

‘Yes. He could sit outside for hours. Even in the rain,’ Shayne adds.

‘And never wear a bloody hat.’ Elaine laughs and cries at the same time.

I set about making tea. Smiling to myself that Malcolm wore a hat for Ellie. I press the memory into my brain, making sure I keep it for ever.

I place a cup of tea in front of Elaine and a cup of coffee in front of Shayne. They both thank me but they don’t reach fortheir cups. I don’t think they’ll drink them. I leave them talking in the kitchen and I fetch Ellie. We tiptoe upstairs to the guest room and get dressed. We pass by Malcolm’s bedroom door. It’s slightly ajar, but I can’t bring myself to look inside. Instead, I press my hand against the timber, and succumb to the powerful wave of emotion that washes over me.

‘Thank you,’ I whisper. ‘Sweet dreams.’

I scoop Ellie into my arms and carry her downstairs. We pull on our shoes and leave. I’m trying to find words to explain to Ellie that Malcolm is gone when I hear my name being called behind me. I turn round and find Shayne hurrying towards us.

‘Where are you going?’ he asks.

‘I just want to give you and your mam some space. You have a lot to talk about.’

‘You’re coming back though, right? You’re still staying here?’

I’m not sure it’s appropriate to stay in Malcolm’s house any more. It’s a time for family. But Ellie and I have nowhere else to go. I wince.

‘Is that okay?’ I ask.

‘Yes. Yes of course.’ Shayne reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small white envelope and passes it to me.

I tap my chest before I take it. ‘For me?’

‘He wanted me to wait until after…’ Shayne clears his throat, trying to cough away his tears. It doesn’t help. He tries again. ‘He wanted me to wait until he was gone to give you this.’

I take it with shaking hands.

‘Are you coming back inside?’ Shayne asks.

I scrunch my face. ‘I’m going to take Ellie to crèche today, I think she needs to be around other kids for a little while.’

‘And you?’ he says, with round eyes that despite how much he’s suffered today are still full of concern for me.

‘I’m going to walk for a while. Maybe check in on things at work, so your mam doesn’t have to.’

He nods. ‘I’ll see you later though, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

Shayne walks slowly away, and Ellie speaks for the first time in a while. I hadn’t noticed her being usually quiet but it seems all I can think about now.

‘I go to crèche today,’ she says, ‘I see Nita and my friends.’

‘Yes, chickpea. Would you like that?’

She smiles and nods. I will tell Ellie about Malcolm. Of course I will. But not right now. Right now, I want to drop her off with Alannah and her friends and I want to be alone in the park where we happily flew kites and I want to read Malcolm’s letter.

It rains as I reach the park. I find a bench, next to some deer who seem unfazed by the large cold drops as they graze in the long grass. I sit down and take off my hat so I can feel the wind and the rain in my hair. It’s cold, but I don’t put my hat back on. I slide the envelope out of my pocket and I begin reading the words written in pristine handwriting.

Dear Busy Bea,

So I’m dead, eh? Well, that took longer than expected. My knees have been dead for the last ten years, just took the rest of me a while to catch up.

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