A Little Love (10 page)

‘Yes I do. Thank you.’ She tried out a small smile as she stared at the doctor’s face, a handsome face. She wondered how come he was not marked, living among this misery every day. Maybe his scarring was on the inside.

‘Is there anything you would like to ask me?’ He spoke slowly, as if she was stupid or elderly.

‘Anything that I would like to ask you?’ She was sure she should have questions but right now couldn’t think of a single one.
She was pronounced dead. Bobby. Bobby, my beautiful girl, my gift.

Pru took a deep breath and when she spoke, her voice was quiet.

‘She’s getting married in eleven months. She’s already chosen her dress, Bella’s altering it right now, it’s quite beautiful. She looks stunning, like Veronica Lake. They’re going to Ibiza on their honeymoon, not the touristy bit, the quiet side of the island. They’ve hired a friend’s villa and it’s got a private pool. Guy’s going to make her cake.’ Her words grew fainter until they were almost a whisper. She turned to her cousin. ‘She’s not going to get married now, is she?’

‘No, darling.’ Milly gulped back the tears that clogged her throat.

And then Pru emitted a dreadful, deafening wail that bounced off the walls and seeped into the fabric of the building. She screamed and sobbed as she slumped down on to the dull red floor tiles, kneeling there with her head on Milly’s lap. ‘No! No! Please, please do something! Do something now! She’s getting married! Help me, Alfie, please help me!’

Milly lowered herself on to the cold floor and held her cousin tightly in her arms.

An hour later, Milly folded her mobile phone back into her handbag. It had been horrendous giving the news to Guy, who had wept and then prayed.

The two cousins sat on the red vinyl couch with blankets around their shoulders. Neither knew what to do next, paralysed with shock and the grief that was filling up inside them until they felt they might drown in it.

‘Poor Isabel,’ Pru suddenly murmured.

Both women would have time to reflect that it didn’t matter how many acres you had or how big your kitchen; when your heart broke, it broke. Wealth and position were no gatekeepers to tragedy. Pru pictured Christopher, wanting desperately to talk to him but knowing that was low on her list of priorities. Everything could wait. Everything would have to wait.

‘Can I get you anything, Pru?’ Milly, the younger cousin, assumed the motherly role as she always did, rubbing small circles on Pru’s back, trying to draw her pain.

It was some minutes before Pru spoke.

‘I think I would like to see her. Can we do that?’

‘I don’t know. But I can find out.’

Pru nodded. ‘I really want to see her.’

‘Well, that’s entirely up to you, darling, but if you are sure, I’ll go and find Dr Carmichael.’

Pru looked at her cousin with red, swollen eyes. ‘I’m sure. Will you come with me?’

Milly wasn’t convinced it was a good idea; she dreaded what their beautiful niece might look like. But she wouldn’t deny Pru the chance to say goodbye. ‘You know I will. Always.’

Pru felt sick as she and Milly followed the young medic to the side ward where Bobby lay, on the ground floor. She wondered if the newborns were on the top floor – closest to what? God? Heaven? Although there was an argument to be made that she too was heading closer to God. The end of the cycle, the inevitable. She had never seen a dead body before; she imagined decay and rot and the bile rose in her throat.

Dr Carmichael’s tone was soothing. ‘This is a very personal choice. You don’t have to do this, you know. No one would think any less of you.’

Pru wondered if he was trying to put her off. ‘I know, but it’s okay. I’m fine.’ Not her real voice but that of an automaton. This voice sounded surprisingly calm, even to her own ears. But inside her head she was screaming.
She can’t be dead! It’s a big mistake
– this is not happening! I don’t believe him, he’s got it wrong.
She returned his smile; ever polite, even in this situation where she had full licence to fall apart, go a little crazy.
Someone’s made a mistake. Where is my beautiful niece? Where is she now? I have to touch her. I’ve got to see her. She can’t be dead!

She and Milly walked into the side room. The doctor closed the door behind them, quietly clicking it shut like a tired mother trying not to wake her newly settled infant. Maybe he had forgotten what floor he was on. Milly walked straight over to the trolley in the middle of the room; her loud sobs punctured the silence. Pru, however, hovered by the door. She wasn’t ready. Turning swiftly with her back to the room, she gripped the handle with her right hand in readiness to escape. The grey-painted door was cool against her forehead, the shiny toes of her patent pumps flexed upwards against its base. She noticed the tears of paint where a brush had inexpertly wielded too much gloss. She could smell disinfectant and, listening to Milly’s distress, could only imagine what was behind her.

She released her grip on the handle and turned back slowly. Her tongue stuck to the dry roof of her mouth, her vision blurred and her heart threatened to leap from her chest. The desire to run was strong. She swallowed and her breath came in shallow pants.

She was drawn by Bobby’s face and surprised to find that it wasn’t scary, just odd. Very odd and sad, so very sad.

She walked hesitantly towards the trolley, trying not to think about why her niece might need to be on a moveable table or where she might be moved to. She had to remind herself that this was Bobby because the whole situation felt surreal.

‘She looks so beautiful,’ Pru managed through her tears.

Milly nodded. It was true. Despite some blood dotted around her hairline and a vicious cut on her neck, she looked like she always did – beautiful, just a little pale.

‘What am I going to do now, Bobby? What am I going to do without you? My precious girl.’

The two women emerged to find Dr Carmichael standing in the corridor. He looked tired.

‘William is just next door.’ He indicated with his palm open, as if they might want to say goodbye to him as well.

Pru was ashamed to admit that she had momentarily forgotten that William too had died, unable to see beyond the loss of her beloved Bobby. She gave a small nod.

The doctor opened the door and pulled back the curtain to reveal William. His head rested on a slim white pillow and a pale blue sheet was wrapped tightly around his body. Like Bobby, he didn’t appear to be wearing any clothes. His eyes were closed and his face was pale, with blue and black bruising across his cheek and right eye. Clots of dark, dried blood were dotted along his jawline and around his nose. These details were hard to take in and would only be recalled later.

All eyes were instead on the girl who stood by the side of his bed. She was weeping as she held William’s pale hand against her face, brushing her lips over the back of his fingers. She seemed to be whispering, praying with her eyes closed.

‘Oh! I thought he would be alone. I’m sorry. We’ll come back later.’

The girl looked up, startled.

Pru stared at her.

‘No, I’m sorry, I, I didn’t want to… to see anyone. I just…’ Her tears made further speech difficult. She struggled to contain her distress.

‘Are you okay?’ Pru’s tone was one of concern.

The girl dropped William’s hand and staggered backwards as she wiped at the tears that coursed down her face. ‘I’m just saying goodbye!’ She was a cockney like them.

‘Who are you? Are you a relative?’ Pru asked, wanting to offer solace.

The girl sobbed even harder and fought for breath as the next wave of grief washed over her. ‘No, no, I’m not a relative exactly. But I just wanted to say goodbye. I don’t want to cause any trouble!’

‘Of course not. We’ve just said goodbye to Bobby.’ Saying the words aloud made Pru shudder.

‘Did you know Bobby?’ Milly was curious.

‘No, I’ve never heard of him.’ The girl shook her head and eyed the door; this was more contact than she had bargained on.

‘Who are you, love?’ Pru asked.

‘I’m Megan!’

‘Well, Megan, we don’t want to disturb you, but we thought we might say goodbye to William.’

Megan once again focused on the body lying on the bed. Her legs bent as if she might topple. ‘I don’t want to cause any trouble…’ she repeated, turning sideways to reveal the unmistakeable outline of a baby bump.

Pru and Milly watched as the girl swayed and gripped at the curtain that enclosed the bed, trying not to give in to the faint that threatened. Then she fled from the room, howling pitifully as she went. Pru turned to see her run the length of the corridor. She hit the wall in her blind stumbling and ricocheted to the other side, as if she were in a pinball machine. Pru followed her outside, but she was too slow and didn’t see which direction she went. She flopped down on to the steps, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

Back inside, she found Milly talking awkwardly to William’s commanding officer in the corridor. Families Warrant Officer Major Sotherton of the Household Cavalry removed his hat and stepped forward. ‘We are of course here to help in any way we can, Miss Plum. I shall come and see you tomorrow if you would like, but if you need me before then, here is my number.’

Pru took the piece of paper with his contact details. She placed it in her handbag for safekeeping. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

The man replaced his hat. ‘Captain Fellsley was a fine soldier and a good man.’

It was the wee small hours when the taxi dropped the weary duo back in Curzon Street. Pru sank down into her chair without putting on the lights, preferring the darkness and the yellowy glow that came from the streetlight directly outside their window. She had gone full circle from exhaustion to hyper and was now quite numb.

Milly handed her a mug of tea. ‘We need to sleep.’

Pru nodded. ‘They’ve given me something we can take; it’ll knock us out. I’ll take a couple in a bit.’

She flopped back in the chair and felt curiously disorientated, like she had jet lag or had woken from a nightmare and couldn’t come to. She would momentarily forget why she felt so sad and then she would remember and it was like being given the news all over again. It hurt just as bad.

Milly ran her palm over her face. ‘I just can’t believe it, Pru. Any of it. One minute she’s flitting around looking for matches, planning her evening and the next this. Tell me it’s all just a bad dream. Please! I didn’t even say goodbye to her properly. I didn’t give her my full attention – I was doing some bloody crossword.’

‘I can’t remember what the last thing I said to her was.’ Pru broke down again. She turned to look at Milly. ‘Do you think they’re together now?’ she sobbed.

‘Bobby and Alfie?’

Pru nodded.

‘I’m sure of it, love.’ Milly sighed and mopped at her streaming face. ‘And we’ll get through this, just like we did before. We can get through anything, by sticking together, right?’ She stared at Pru, who met her gaze and nodded.

‘I just want to disappear.’

‘I know. Have you spoken to Christopher?’

‘Yes, very briefly. He’s going straight to Oxford to be with his sister. She’s in a terrible state, obviously. Her husband only died a couple of years ago and now this.’ Pru cried again then, covering her face with her hands and trying to sort the jumble of information that swirled inside her head. ‘I’m going to bed.’

‘Don’t worry about anything. Guy will have everything under control and I’ll pop down, in the morning.’

‘Thanks, Mills.’

‘If you want a bit of company in the night or need anything at all, then just buzz me and I’ll be straight in.’

‘She was so happy, wasn’t she? So happy.’ Pru closed her eyes as she stood, picturing Bobby on the podium in Spitalfields, clapping her hands with joy and looking like a bride. She felt her way along the hallway to her bedroom.

Clicking the door shut behind her, Pru collected a framed photo from the bedside table: Bobby and William at a party. Her niece beamed and held a glass of champagne up to the camera. The handsome Captain Fellsley was smiling too, but Pru noticed for the first time that it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

‘Oh, Bobby, I miss you already. Tonight I am going to make out you are asleep upstairs, tucked up safely.’

Pru held the picture to her chest and sank back against the pillows, trying to order her thoughts. She wished she could talk to Christopher, who had the knack of making everything feel better. She pictured him and Isabel and her heart went out to the woman who two years ago ceased to be a wife and had just discovered that she was no longer a mother.

Pru swallowed two of the sleeping tablets but woke after four hours of sleep with a physical pain in her chest. She sat up in the bed as though waking from a nightmare and her sobs came instantly.

‘Oh, Alfie, I thought I’d dreamed it, but I didn’t, did I? She’s gone. She’s really gone. I’m so sorry, I thought I could keep her safe for you. I tried, I really did. Is she with you now? Please, please tell me she’s with you now, safe and sound.’

Pru looked past the pelmet and Liberty print curtains that framed the window of the spare bedroom at Mountfield. She hadn’t wanted to stay here the night before the funeral, but had been convinced by everyone else that it would be easier in the morning. No battle with the London traffic. Milly was in the room next door.

The image of Bobby standing on the very patch of grass in front of her as a jazz band played, laughing, with her hand outstretched, showing off her diamond, popped into her head.

‘Oh Bobby, where are you? Where are you right now?’

She spoke to the sky through the dappled panes of the Queen Anne window, allowing her eyes to roam over the rolling acres and come to rest on the edge of the lake where she and Christopher had spent the afternoon. Pru knew he had been due to arrive last night, but she hadn’t seen him. He was probably with Isabel, who she had seen. William’s mother was barely able to converse. Grief sat like a stopper in her throat. The two women had hugged briefly and parted immediately, as though their combined sadness might overwhelm everybody. Isabel had been supported by a friend and she seemed to have shrunk in stature, her eyes hollow and staring, features pinched, movements stilted. It tore at Pru to see the hurt in William’s mother so visibly manifested. She barely acknowledged anyone; it took all of her strength to remain calm, centred.