He shrugs, ‘it’s tradition. Can’t have a Glasweegan lass not properly educated. My maw would come back from the grave to clip me around the ear if I didn’t pass on her wisdom.’
Lily shakes her head gaze flicking to me as if to saycan you believe this guy.
What she probably doesn’t know is I can. I’d met Mrs Atwal, Vish’s mother, and she was one strong-willed woman. It wouldn’t surprise me if she managed to come haunt her son for his behaviour.
The thought sobers me as memories of my own mother come to the forefront of my mind, ones that I had carefully shoved away due to the many difficult emotions I haven’t allowed myself to process yet.
‘You’re pregnant…’ Lily whispers, but I catch it despite how quiet she said it. As if she hadn’t meant to voice her thoughts aloud.
In my grief-stricken memories, I’d absent-mindedly began to stroke my bump, taking comfort in the feel of my wee boyshuffling about. He’s probably wondering what I’m doing at this hour, disturbing his slumber with my gitters.
At least I have my love for him to keep me going.
I tense seeing sadness cross Lily’s face as she continues to stare at my bump and unease creeps up my spine. Sensing the mood shift, Vish loops his arm with mine.
‘Fancy a midnight walk?’
‘Sure,’ I give him a curious look, and he subtly shakes his head.
‘Lil, you on watch?’
Lily blinks a few times, shaking off whatever thoughts had consumed her and I watch as she plasters a mask of happiness over whatever had overtaken her just now.
‘Yes, doing the rounds. Sorry for scaring you…’
‘Isla,’ I tell her. ‘Was nice to meet you, Lily.’
‘See you around,’ she waves as she takes the exit I had come through.
‘What was that?’
Vish guides me through into another carpeted hallway, this one a red tartan and then out into the crisp night time air.
‘Lily, she… she lost her baby, darling.’ I can hear the emotion that clogs his throat, and my heart sinks at his words.
Oh Lily. No wonder she looked the way she did when she saw my bump. I can’t imagine how it must feel for her, how awful it would be to lose a child.
‘She’s had it hard and I can’t imagine you’d ever recover from something so awful but she’s healing in her own way. His memorial is with the others and I think when she had somewhere to remember him, it helped a little.’
‘There is a memorial?’
Vish nods, to a high stand on a section of the stadium. ‘Ru made one for you… when he thought… You were the first one that was made.’
‘What?’
I have a memorial?
‘C’mon.’
Vish leads us over to the other side and up more stairs. Despite climbing so many already today, I ignore the burn in my thighs, too focused on what I’m about to find.
Up ahead is one of the most heartbreakingly beautiful things I have ever seen. Lit by candlelight, perfectly arranged is a memorial of every loved one that has been lost. Each person has a story, one attached with so much grief it is unimaginable. Names and faces, photos and drawings they are all there. And each one breaks my heart.
A sob lodges in my throat as the words mammy painted in glitter catch my eye, one far too much like the signs on each of the doors in my corridor. Scattered around it are various paintings, stick figures, birthday cards and more. Oh Elsa, my heart hurts just imagining her running up here, glitter flying from her as she brings her drawing to show her mammy.
I force myself to look over the others, far too many of them. I get it, I’m beginning to understand what this place is built upon. Love and grief, the hope for a better future if not for ourselves but for our loved ones that couldn’t see it. Then it hits me, through watery lashes my name finds me and what restraint I managed to hold back before comes tumbling down.
Vish doesn’t push for me to leave, he doesn’t even speak until I’m ready to. I’d broken down as soon as I’d seen my name, notable to bear getting a closer look at first, but I couldn’t hold out. Not when I see the unopened letter sat beneath my name.
