‘Mo!’ exclaimed Arthur, his face lighting up. ‘Look at you!’ The two men embraced and exchanged pleasantries.
‘I’m still getting my head around passing my twenty-year anniversary. I’m an assistant chief now so I don’t go out on calls as much as I used to. I’m swamped with paperwork instead.’
‘It’s really good to see you.’
Mohammed caught Arthur scanning the drill ground. ‘A lot’s changed since you were last here, I guess.’
‘It certainly has.’
‘Listen, I was sorry to hear about June. I didn’t know her as well as some of the others, but she was one of the good ones. You both were. I hope you got the flowers.’
Arthur recalled the number of colourful bouquets that arrived the day of her funeral and nodded his gratitude. He wondered if his old colleagues knew of the whole story, his denial of her death, the refusal to let June go; that instead of reporting her loss, he had kept her body by his side in their bed for months. If Mo was aware, he said nothing. Instead, he jangled a set of keys in his hand.
‘Health and Safety regs mean I’m not supposed to let civilians go up the tower but no one here is going to dob us in.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Are you okay going up on your own? I’m happy to carry you over my shoulder for old time’s sake?’
Arthur laughed and reassured him he would be fine alone. As Mo unlocked the metal door, Arthur used one hand to steady himself on the railings, while the other clutched a shopping bag. ‘I’ll be in the station when you’re ready,’ Mo continued. ‘Come and join us for a cuppa before you go.’
It took Arthur much longer to climb the five floors now than it did back in his day. He used to think nothing of running up two or three steps at a time whilst hauling heavy equipment. Today, he was breathless by the time he reached the summit.
Arthur leaned against the railings and absorbed the 360-degree view of the town he had loved and lived in all his life. There were more drones in the sky than birds and less traffic on the roads now that commuters carpooled in driverless vehicles. When online shopping eventually won its war against the town centres, much of the retail area had been torn down and replaced with modern housing in areas constructed specifically for Smart Marriages. As a result, much of the landscape was altering beyond his recognition.
Arthur and June had refused to relocate from the Old Town despite the upgrade opportunities their marriage brought. They were happy where they were. Until one morning when everything had changed. Without warning, June had quietly slipped away.
Up there on the fire tower, he recalled every second of it, as clear as if it had happened earlier that day. He’d placed the breakfast tray on her bedside table as he had every morning since she had stopped walking or talking and had retreated to their bed. As the Audite had opened the curtains and the glittering sun had poured in, he’d noticed her grey pallor and sunken cheeks. He had seen enough dead bodies in his career to know that June had left him.
Arthur hadn’t tried to resuscitate her or restart that huge, wonderful heart of hers. Instead, he’d laid down next to her and run his fingers through her hair and stroked her cool, parchment-thin face. It was so unfair that June had developed the one variant of dementia that still had research scientists baffled. For seven years it had gradually been squeezing the life out of her, draining her body of energy and her mind of thoughts and memories. And when she’d lost her communication skills, he had started speaking for them both. However, even on her death, he hadn’t been ready for the conversation to end.
Many times that fateful day, Arthur had ordered the Audite to call for help. Then he’d change his mind before the line connected. It wasn’t only the fear of them taking her away that upset him, it was the repercussions of the Sanctity of Marriage Act and what would be expected of him as a widower. So things had to continue as they were.
He’d purchased two large bags of cat litter and apologized as he’d heaped it upon her to absorb any leakages before they could seep through the bin liners he’d been about to enfold her in. Then he’d rolled her up tightly inside the duvet and sealed it up with roll after roll of parcel tape until it was airtight. Finally, he’d purchased a dozen reed diffusers and air fresheners to scatter about the bedroom and landing.
Then Arthur had tried to put June’s death out of his mind by carrying on as normal. For the most part, she was the June of old. He spoke to her as if she was there and imagined her answers. Occasionally the version of herself with the faltering memory would appear and he’d fill in the blanks. But, for the first time in years, they were their old selves.
He’d needed to fool his wearable technology for when it randomly recorded their conversations. First, he’d reported June’s as faulty and unable to register her health statistics and movements. America’s latest trade war with China meant Tungsten, the mineral used to create the devices and which was key to their ability to vibrate, was in short supply. He was warned it might take weeks to get a replacement. It would explain why there was no movement from her. Then at various times of the day, he’d played video recordings he had made of June over the years, hoping her voice would buy him more time. He had got away with it for months before an algorithm had finally recognized the repetition.
After countless Push notifications, Lorraine Shrewsbury, a Relationship Responder, sent her first email, then began calling before eventually turning up unannounced on their doorstep. It was her fault that Arthur and June were finally separated. While he had been sitting in a holding cell at Campbell Square police station, she had ensured authorities removed his wife from their home. And now that he couldn’t see June, he couldn’t hear her either. He still spoke to her often but the replies no longer came. For the first time since before they had met, over fifty years ago, Arthur was truly alone.
The rest of the week after June’s discovery had been a blur. In line with all Smart Marriages, a fast-tracked autopsy of a spouse following their sudden death began and, three days later, an investigation into her potentially suspicious death was swiftly dropped. She had died of a dementia-related stoke. Arthur was released the day before her funeral, which, by law, should have been in the same week as her death.
Today, and five-storeys high, he took a deep breath and reached into his shopping bag. He removed a transparent ziplock bag containing a portion of June’s ashes. The other half remained inside a wooden box on the passenger seat in the campervan parked in their garage.
The fire service was the family she had chosen and, along with Arthur, they had become her two greatest loves. Here, among friends, was the most fitting place to scatter half her remains. The rest he would keep at home with him. As Arthur shook the unzipped bag, a light breeze took June in its arms and carried her up into the air and out of sight. If Arthur possessed the physical strength, he might well have pulled himself over the railings in the hope the wind might catch him too. But that wouldn’t be fair on his former colleagues.
So he remained where he was, eyes closed, reliving a cavalcade of memories until he was ready to make his way back down. One more flight awaited him when his Smart bracelet vibrated. He tentatively pressed play.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Foley, it’s Martin Warner from your solicitors, Hatchett & Moss. I’ve left several messages asking for you to call me but I’m not sure if you’ve received them. The Crown Prosecution Service has been in touch and I really need you to return my call at your earliest convenience.’
Arthur shook his head. After the police had released him, Warner had warned it might not be the end of the matter. And now it looked as if his troubles were set to continue.
24
Anthony
‘What was this place?’ asked Anthony. He struggled tokeep up with the broad-shouldered woman striding up the staircase three steps ahead of him.
