‘And the best one,’ he said, as he always did.
It had been their standing joke throughout their marriage, mostly because it was true.He was a man of thought.Of consideration.He was never one for big romantic gestures, but there wasn’t a time in their lives when she hadn’t felt absolutely sure of him, and for Marge, that mattered so much more.
They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, as they often did, but Marge could sense that there was something on his mind.
‘We’re going to have to talk about it, my love,’ he said eventually, and he didn’t have to explain.She knew.It was the only subject they ever avoided, the only thing they never agreed on.‘She has a right to know.’
Marge felt the creeping sensation of dread wind its way around her body, and the red rash of heat rise up her neck.
‘I agree.I do.But I just don’t know if I can tell her.’
‘Then I will,’ he said gently, his hand reaching for hers.‘Not because I want to, but because it’s the right thing to do.’Their fingers intertwined, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle, instinctively joining together to make one piece.‘If anything happens to us…’ he went on.
‘Nothing is going to happen to us,’ Marge countered, refusing to consider that.
‘I know.But if it does, she has to know that she has other people.A family.We have to give her that.’
Marge couldn’t argue anymore because she knew he was right.‘When are you going to tell her?’
With a slow, gentle sigh, he stood up and she had to squint against the sun again to see his face.‘When the time is right.Don’t worry about it any more, Marge.I’ve got this.I’ll take care of you both.’
She didn’t doubt him.She never did.
‘Come on, love.Let’s walk,’ he said, gently pulling on her hand.
Marge thought about staying, about sitting for a moment longer, but the sun was moving and she didn’t want to lose it.So she followed him, down the garden, towards the tree… But… she stopped.Something wasn’t right.
The blue jumper.She’d bought that for Estelle’s twenty-first.He’d only worn it that night.The night he died.
‘Marge.Marge, can you hear me?’Bernadette’s voice.Was she coming over today?Marge couldn’t remember.
‘Come on, love.’Ian was still waiting, still holding her hand, two steps ahead and just an arm length away.
‘Amber, can you and go get Keli, please?’Bernadette again.
She could feel the gentle pull on her arm.He was getting impatient.The sun was going down behind the tree.Sunset.Their favourite time.
‘Mum?Mum?’Estelle must be looking for her.She could hear her girl… why did she sound like she was crying?
‘Estelle, please don’t cry.I’m right here, darling.’
‘Mum, please don’t go.Please.’
Marge hesitated again.How could she leave her?She was her whole heart.
But Ian was waiting… And he’d made sure Estelle would have everything she needed to go on without them.
And that’s why Marge knew it was time to go.
31
AMBER
Numb.
Just numb.
Amber put the three cups of coffee from the vending machine on the table in the deserted cafe, feeling like she was moving inside a bubble where there was no air and nothing could touch her – and she was glad of it because she knew the wave of grief that was sitting just outside the shell would drown her.
