‘Lewis,’ I say, one hand going down to scratch Betty’s ear, as though I need to be doing something else while I even think about this. ‘Do you mind me asking about … about the day Mum died? I know this is really hard for you, and we’re both so grateful for everything you did for her, for us, but … was it peaceful? Was she in pain? I know she had good reasons for not telling us, but I feel like I’ll never be able to move on from it unless I ask.’
I hear Poppy gulp down half a glass of wine, and Betty licks my hand, as though she is reassuring me, and Lewis blinks away the tears that I most definitely hadn’t imagined.
‘Strangely, it was,’ he replies, after a few moments. ‘Very peaceful. For her at least. Earlier in the day, not so much – she was so focused on getting through the last video, she insisted on refusing any drugs for hours. But after she’d done that, and she knew the A–Z was finally finished … well. Yes. She seemed so much more at rest.
‘The staff were wonderful at controlling her pain, and in the end … well, she seemed to simply go to sleep. She woke from her slumber a few times, but that’s basically what it was like.
‘She was as peaceful as she could be, knowing that she’d tried her best to help you two, and that she’d told you how much she loved you. The only thing that could have given her any more peace would have been seeing this – seeing you two here, together, behaving like the loving sisters she told me you once were. And I like to think, somehow, that she is seeing it – and that she knows she succeeded.’
I nod my thanks, and realise that I am crying. I glance at Poppy, and see that she is also crying. I return my gaze to Lewis, and he has given up the battle, and has tears streaming down his round cheeks. All three of us are glitter-faced, weeping wrecks, and eventually, after staring at each other in horror, we begin to laugh. Because we all look ridiculous – even the dog. Minutes later, we are still crying – but this time with amusement.
This, I think, looking around the table at my sister, and at the man my mother loved so much, listening to our slightly manic giggles, is also what she would have wanted.
‘Right,’ I say, once I can speak again. ‘I think it’s movie time. Poppy, clear a space, and we’ll roll the dice …’
Once the plates have been taken away to the kitchen, along with Betty, who is following the trail of leftover gravy, we all stand up in preparation. I hand Lewis the dice, and indicate that he should do the honours.
There are six movies listed on there –X-Men;The X-Filesfilm; something calledXiu Xiuthat I assume is Chinese; that xXx film with Vin Diesel in it;X-Men: First Class, which I think is a bit of a cheat, but does have the added bonus of James McAvoy, andXanadu. I’m really hoping it’s notXanadu. I don’t think I could endure Olivia Newton-John in a roller disco – it’s more than my fragile mind could take.
Lewis makes a fine performance of blowing on the dice like they do in gambling movies, which results in him smearing glitter all over his mouth, and rolls it across the tablecloth. It leaves a shining trail, as though a disco snail has crawled past, and eventually bumps its way to a standstill. We all peer at the result that’s left face-side up.
Fuck. It’s bloodyXanadu.
We all look at each other in disgust, and Lewis finally breaks the silence.
‘Best out of three?’ he asks.
‘Definitely,’ replies Poppy. ‘It’s what she would have wanted.’
Chapter 68
Poppy
‘Y,’ I say, reading from the now almost-disintegrated A–Z index, ‘is for Yesterday. And it’s a letter, together with some diaries.’
‘Okay,’ replies Rose, frowning at me. ‘Do you really think we need to do it today? I spoke to Joe earlier, and he’s fine. In fact he sounded brilliant. I thought … I thought we could have a bit more time, and that then perhaps he could get the train down for the last bit of the hols. If that’s all right with you.’
‘Of course it’s all right with me. That’d be brilliant. But … well, we’ve been putting this off for two days now, haven’t we? And I think we both know why.’
She nods, and twists her hair around her fingers, and looks sad.
‘It’s because we’re getting near the end,’ she says. ‘And neither of us wants to get to the end. Because when we get to the end, it’s all over, and we go our separate ways, and everything goes back to normal.’
Hard as it is to believe, she’s right. At the beginning of all of this, we couldn’t stand the sight of each other. Rose preferred to tear the flesh from the side of her nails than to look me in the eye, and I acted like the world’s biggest bitch just to hide how vulnerable I felt.
Since then, the A–Z has stripped us bare. It’s knocked us down, trampled on us, and built us back up. Our mother has guided us over so many hurdles, dragged us out of pitfalls, pulled us from the clifftops of our self-destruction. And along the way, she’s made us laugh, and cry, and eat, and play, and get to know each other, and ourselves.
The thought of it all ending – of reaching the dreaded Z – is almost too much for us to bear. Because after that, it’s up to us, isn’t it? Then, we have to play our own roles, without Mum there to direct us.
‘I know,’ I say, reaching out to hold her hand. She is physically trembling, and I squeeze her fingers. ‘It’s a horrible thought. While we’ve been doing this, it’s like she was still with us in a way. All those photos, and videos, and everything else she left behind – it’s been like she’s not actually gone. But she wanted us to do this, and I don’t think we should chicken out at Y, do you?’
Rose looks as though she wants to disagree with me, but reluctantly nods, sinking down on to the sofa in defeat.
I smile, trying to make it look more encouraging than I feel, and pull the note out of the A–Z box. It is accompanied by a hefty package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, like a parcel in a black-and-white movie.
I open the envelope marked Y, and together, sitting side by side, we read.
Chapter 69
