As he turned over to face the other direction, he could have sworn he saw some movement from the curtain. Funny how something you’d been thinking of obsessively for days could instantly become insignificant. He didn’t care if she was looking through at him. He didn’t care if she’d pulled back the whole goddam thing. Some things were just too little too late.
*
Alfie assumed that by the next morning at least some of the shock would have worn off. How wrong he was. He woke, still very numb and still very empty, unsure if he was even awake or still dreaming. Luckily, Alice didn’t try and talk tohim. There was no way he had the energy for it today. It was hard enough to smile when Nurse Angles came to see him.
‘Alfie, honey.’ She placed her hand gently on top of his. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss.’ He couldn’t stand to look at her; he didn’t want to see any kindness this morning, not when life kept proving how cruel it could be over and over again. ‘I know it looked traumatic, but the doctors have assured me he didn’t feel any pain. He was an old man, sweetie, it was simply his time to go.’
There was nothing he could say. Nothing he wanted to say. All he could do was curl the corners of his mouth into what he hoped resembled some sort of smile of acknowledgement.
‘I’ll leave you to it, but I’m here – we all are – if you need anything.’
As she turned to go, he was suddenly struck with a devastating thought. ‘Does Agnes know yet?’
‘We told her this morning. She’s coming in to see him this afternoon.’
The rest of the day came and went in a blur. Alfie was vaguely aware of people moving around, staff cleaning and talking amongst themselves, but he didn’t care about the details. When he looked over at Mr Peterson’s cubicle at the end of the day, he was stunned. There was no evidence that the man had existed at all. Everything had returned to its original sterile state. How quickly every trace of a person could disappear, wiped away and collected up to be replaced with fresh bed sheets and a brand-new resident.
Before his own accident, Alfie could never really understand why people got so worried about forgetting their loved ones when they passed. Surely you could never erase those memories or moments from your mind? How could you ever forget a person who had meant so much to you? But youcould. And you did. One of the hardest lessons he’d had to learn was that time doesn’t stop for anyone. If you don’t go with it, there’s a risk people will move on without you too. But to take that first step feels so much like betrayal it roots you to the spot. Watching the ward prepare for another person to move into Mr Peterson’s space was another stark reminder of how quickly the world carries on without you.
‘Alfie. Are you awake in there?’ One of the nurses’ voices broke his stream of thoughts. It was tentative and barely audible over the whirring in his head. It seemed everyone was treading on eggshells.
‘Uh-huh.’
She pulled back the curtain. ‘Agnes is here. She’d like to talk to you, if you don’t mind?’
Panic raced through him, stealing his breath as it went.
‘It won’t take long, dear. I know you’ll want to be by yourself today.’ Agnes’s voice sounded so strong and calm. Was she still in shock? Had it hit her yet that her husband was dead?
‘Of course, come in.’ He sat up, rearranging himself in the hope of masking the creases of grief that had folded themselves into him.
She looked smaller than the last time he’d seen her, although maybe that was just in his mind. Her crinkled face was etched deeply with lines of laughter, of tears, of sun-kissed days and freezing nights. This was a worldly woman. Alfie got the impression there wasn’t much that could shock her any more. Today it seemed she was using everything she had inside her to keep upright and strong.
She shuffled towards him and sat down in the chair by his bed. Her hands were clasped around her handbag, holding on to the worn leather so tightly that the paper-thin skin of her knuckles was turning white.
‘Agnes I’m so, so—’
‘Alfie.’ She stopped his words dead in their tracks. ‘It was his time to go and we must respect that.’
Alfie sat with his eyes and mouth wide open, looking at the incredibly calm woman in front of him.
‘Of course, that doesn’t stop it hurting.’ She coughed and her gaze dropped briefly down to her hands. ‘I want to thank you for being there with him. Not just last night, but ever since you came to the ward. I’m not sure if he told you, because he was a stubborn old bastard at times, but he loved you. It’s funny; so many people have asked me if I’ve found it hard being apart from him for so long. Have I found it difficult knowing he was being left in this place without me? But whenever I’ve thought about it, I’ve come back to the same answer. I’ve never felt worried or guilty because I knew he was surrounded by love here. He had you. And he was so grateful for that.’
Alfie shook his head. Alfie was the one who had stopped checking in on his friend as much because he’d got too caught up in another silly side story. He couldn’t bear the compliments. He didn’t want the affection. Niceties made the stabs of guilt more intense.
‘But I let him down.’ The words came out so small and quiet.
‘You did nothing of the sort.’ Alfie was taken aback by the slap on the wrist she gave him. ‘Stop that nonsense. I knew my husband for over sixty years, and I saw the way he looked at you. You were a good friend to him, and I am very thankful for all that you did for him. In fact …’
She reached into her handbag and pulled out two worn, shabby-looking books.
‘I know he’d have wanted you to have these. I can’t standthe things, but I know you both loved puzzles so much. These are two of the hardest, apparently. He tried over the years to finish them but never got round to it. Now it’s your turn to try.’
Only then did Alfie manage to cry.
‘Oh, look, don’t get yourself upset now.’ She handed him a tissue from her bag. ‘He’d want you to be happy.’
‘Thank you. I’m really going to miss him, you know?’
