Page 81 of Waiting for a Bright New Future

Stuart gave a thumbs-up sign to his fiancée and went indoors to collect presents. There were two parcels from Florence on the kitchen table, both book-shaped. He decided the day might go more smoothly if he left them where they were and opened them later, on his own. When he could savour them.

The rest of Christmas Day was quiet. He and Jayne cooked dinner together at her house. Lillian ate heartily and talked a lot about the relatives that would be arriving for tea. Jayne pointed out, under her breath to Stuart, that these people were all deceased. After the King’s speech they opened presents. Stuart was relieved when Jayne immediately sprayed herself with the perfume.

“Good perfume is my favourite luxury,” she said. “But I can never justify buying it for myself.”

Lillian tried to put the nightdress on top of her scarlet Christmas jumper until Jayne rescued it. Stuart received five pairs of socks marked with an ‘S’ from Lillian, but obviously chosen by Jayne, and a shirt and tie from Jayne herself.

“I thought you could keep them for the wedding.”

“What about all that bad luck stuff?”

Jayne shrugged. “I didn’t know which was the greater risk, the bad luck or you turning up in a polo shirt.”

“Mistletoe!” Lillian positioned a real piece of the plant above her daughter’s head and Stuart kissed his fiancée slowly and gently. She smiled at him and he held her close.

Later, when Lillian was in bed, they snuggled up on the sofa with glasses of Baileys and a box of Quality Street. It felt like a safe, comfortable place to be; the best ending to Christmas Day he’d ever had. Except for the wandering thought about what Florence was doing.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

On Boxing Day morning, Stuart hammered the alarm into silence and lay back for a minute. No noise. The house was empty again. He wished Florence and the children were there. Jim’s house was small. Where was Florence sleeping? He pushed the thought from his mind; it was none of his business.

In the kitchen, the two parcels were still waiting for him. He’d looked at them last night. Opening them had felt traitorous to Jayne. It shouldn’t feel this way. Florence had no romantic interest in him; she’d given the presents to him as a friend not a lover. He should open them and text her. It would be rude not to. He made mule-kick coffee.

The first book made him smile:Fiendishly Difficult Cryptic Crosswords. He opened the front cover, hoping for an inscription with a typical Florence comment, but the pages were pristine. The second book had a picture of man on the cover with greying hair and the beginnings of a paunch. There was a huge rucksack on his back and a map in his hand. It was calledGrown-Up Gap Years. This time she had written something. It was on a piece of paper slotted in between the pages.I bought this ages ago, before you made things official with Jayne, when you were still looking for that bright future. Perhaps now it’s something you can do together? Best wishes, Florence.

Stuart had to blink a couple of time. Florence had put thought into these presents. She hadn’t just walked up to a beauty counter and bought two of the first thing offered. He ran his fingers over the cover of the travel book and flicked through the pages. The chapter headings made him excited for what could be. Sharing a journey like this would be the perfect start to married life. But then he remembered Lillian and put the book back on the table.

William would be waiting. He dropped bread into the toaster and got the marmalade out. He hoped Andrea had given her father a day to remember, something to eject him from the mysterious lethargy that plagued him.

“So how was it?” he called as he let himself in and took his coat off.

Silence.

“Must have been good if you’re still asleep. What did Santa bring?”

He walked into the back room and immediately noticed there was no hump in the bed and no William in the chair.

“William!” The old man wasn’t mobile enough to get anywhere else in the house but still Stuart checked all the rooms. He even went upstairs where it was chilly, disused and dusty. There was no sign of the old man. He managed to unlock and open the swollen back door that was rarely used except when the man came to mow the lawn in the summer. He walked the perimeter of the garden but found nothing.

Stuart began to panic. How could a frail old man disappear into thin air? He’d often imagined the scenario of arriving at the house and finding William unconscious or even cold with death. But he’d never foreseen him just not being here. He should phone someone. The police? Veronica? Andrea was here yesterday and she was his next of kin. There was a list of phone numbers taped to the top of the bedside cabinet where the cordless phone sat in the charging unit. There was both a landline and a mobile number for Andrea. This early in the morning, Stuart tried the landline.

It was answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hello, Andrea. My name is Stuart Borefield. I’m your dad’s carer. I don’t want to alarm you but I’ve just arrived for my morning call and he’s not here.”

“Stuart. He mentioned you a lot.” There was an edge to her voice.

“Did you see him yesterday? Do you know where he is?”

“He collapsed. I called an ambulance. I’m about to go back to the hospital now.”

Stuart closed his eyes for a second, feeling overwhelmed by guilt. “I’m sorry. He’d been out of sorts but he wouldn’t let me call a doctor. What’s wrong with him?”

“They need to do tests but with it being Christmas, the right people aren’t available. It’s serious though.” There was a catch in her voice as she said the last words.

“Can I see him?”

There was a silence before Andrea replied. “Meet me at the Infirmary, Ward Nine, at noon. You could sit with him and feed him his lunch while I get something to eat. The nurses are always busy.”

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