Yes.
Most definitely yes.
Fin knew that the odd joke shared between them did not erase the years of silence. That although comforting Eleanor was all he wanted to do, it wasn’t his place any more.Instead, as the memories swirled ominously around all of them, clawing at them, taunting them, he remained frozen, rooted to the spot in silence. He was very aware of saying the entirely wrong thing and so decided an absence of words was his only option.
‘I can’t believe it’s been that long since he passed,’ his mum bleated on. ‘Years have a way of running away from me at the moment.’
‘I know what you mean,’ Eleanor replied glumly.
‘Mum. Let’s talk about something else, hey?’ Fin stepped forward, at last finding the courage to speak.
‘Sorry, dear.’ His mum squeezed Eleanor’s hand. ‘I didn’t mean to bring the mood down. Your father was a good man, that’s all.’
‘Thank you, Eileen.’ She exhaled sharply. ‘He really was.’
Then: Aged 20
Eleanor
At 2 a.m. her mother rang. Eleanor knew before she’d even answered the phone that it was time. It was as though her whole life had been slowly building up to this one moment. All week she’d lain awake at night, staring blankly at the ceiling, her thudding heartbeat counting down the seconds until her phone would ring. That had been the deal. The only way Eleanor would agree to go back to university and not give everything up to move back home. Her mother had to call the minute there were any signs. Even a whisper of her dad’s health declining and Eleanor had to be told. No matter how late or early it was. Her mother had to call.
‘Mum?’ Eleanor was already forcing the tears back; her voice was strained with angst.
‘Darling.’ Her mother was so quiet it was painful to try and catch hold of her words. ‘I think … I think you’d better come home as soon as you can.’
Eleanor felt her body collapse. The weight she had been carrying on her shoulders ever since they got the diagnosis was finally threatening to crush her.
‘OK,’ was all she could muster.
‘I love you. Drive safe,’ her mother replied, gasping for breath between the words.
Eleanor closed her eyes for a moment, to allow the enormity of what she was about to face to hit her. This was a moment that she would never forget. A moment that she knew would change her for ever. Strangely, it was also a moment she wanted to face alone. Just for a second.
Oliver stirred beside her. ‘Eleanor?’ he mumbled through layers of sleep. ‘Is everything OK?’
‘It’s time,’ she cried. The hard exterior finally cracked to allow the ocean of grief to pour out of her.
He sat upright and snapped into organization mode. ‘I’ll get the stuff together and we’ll be on the road as soon as possible.’ He squeezed her arm tightly, kissing the top of her head. ‘Is there anyone else we need to call?’ he asked, standing up quickly and grabbing their pre-packed suitcases.
Eleanor shook the image of Fin from her mind.
‘No, not yet. Let’s get home first.’
*
Her dad passed away at 9 a.m. the next morning.
In the end he went peacefully. Silently. Almost gratefully. The entire family had made it to his bedside in time to hold his hands and love him right until the moment the last breath left his lungs.
She had assumed that she’d break down. That she’d scream and cry, raging at the cruelty of the world and the injustice of it all. Her father. How could they take her dad? The kindest, most joyful man she’d ever known. He didn’t deserve to die. He didn’t deserve to be eaten from the insideout by tumours. But now he was gone and Eleanor didn’t make a sound.
Not as he passed away. Not during the excruciating silence afterwards. Not even that night, as Oliver clung to her body in her childhood bed, rocking her gently to sleep. All Eleanor felt was empty. Hollow. Tears wouldn’t bring back the man she loved. Screaming wouldn’t change anything. It was now a case of silent survival.
‘So, the funeral is arranged for next week,’ her mother stated at breakfast the next morning. ‘Freya, you’ll be doing a reading if you’re still happy to?’ She was robotic, listing the tasks as though she were planning her weekly trip to Tesco, not arranging the final farewell to the love of her life.
Freya nodded her head.
‘Eleanor, have you spoken to Fin yet?’ Angela reached out a hand and placed it gently on top of hers.
