‘Aw, our Brooke was always a character,’ Mum said tearfully. ‘I hope the two of them had fun that night. I hope it was worth it.’
As if any party would be worth it! But I didn’t point that out to her. She was just trying to get through a difficult experience and keep my spirits up. I understood that. I let her remove the rest of his clothes just so she could feel useful.
There wasn’t much left of Danny’s watch, which was badly broken.
‘I could try to get it repaired,’ Dad said doubtfully, but I shook my head. ‘Just get rid of it,’ I said, handing it to him.
Danny’s wallet was there of course. Black leather with the initials DJH in one corner. Daniel John Harrison. Inside was a photo of the two of us on our wedding day, and another one of me alone, smiling at the camera. It looked as if it had been taken not long after we started going out together. I must have been about sixteen or seventeen at the time.
‘He kept that all these years?’ Mum asked, taking the photo from my fingers and staring down at it. ‘Look how young you were!’
‘She’s only twenty-six now, love,’ Dad reminded her.
‘Twenty-seven come June,’ Mum said, as if it mattered.
‘A lot can happen in ten years,’ I murmured.
There was a credit card and a debit card in his wallet, along with twenty-five pounds cash.
‘Well, at least we know no one pinched his money,’ Mum said.
Dad and I turned to her in bemusement.
‘Just saying,’ she said. ‘You never know who works at these official buildings. And think of all the ruffians who must pass through.’
Dad gave me a look, and I smiled knowingly back at him. How Mum’s mind worked was often a mystery to us.
‘His phone’s here,’ I said, reaching to the bottom of the box and pulling out the last remaining item. I examined it carefully. The battery had died, of course, but it was surprisingly intact. Not so much as a dent on it.
‘Just shows you,’ Mum said. ‘Fancy it surviving an impact like that. I told you they were worth the money.’ She nodded towards Dad. ‘He won’t have one, you know. Says they’re an extravagance that no one needs. In this day and age!’ She sighed wistfully. ‘It’s a nice-looking phone. What is it?’
‘A Nokia,’ I said. ‘Same as mine. I got it for him last Christmas. It needs charging.’ I got up and carried the phone to the worktop, where my own charger had been left plugged in. I connected it and switched it on, then left it to charge.
‘Are you sure you’re all right, love?’ Mum asked as I sat back down next to her. ‘Would you like a cup of tea with lots of sugar? They say sugar’s good when you’re in shock.’
‘I’m not in shock,’ I said. ‘I’m just sad, that’s all.’
‘Well of course you are.’ Dad reached over and patted my hand. ‘You’re grieving. It’s going to take some time, but me and your mum will be with you every step of the way. You know that, don’t you?’
‘I know.’
‘And Danny’s mum and dad…’ Mum said hesitantly. ‘They want to be there for you, too.’
‘I know,’ I repeated. ‘And Auntie Mandy and Uncle Shane and our Cal. Everyone’s been lovely. But there are some things I have to do myself. No one can grieve for me, can they?’
‘No, they can’t.’ Dad shook his head sadly. ‘Unfortunately, the grieving process is something you’ll have to go through no matter what. But as long as you know that we’re here and ready to help you with whatever you need. You can shout at us, swear at us, rage at us, cry, scream, whatever you want. We won’t judge.’
‘It’s very kind of you,’ I said, ‘but I haven’t the urge to do any of those things.’
‘No, well, it’s still early days,’ Dad said. He exchanged worried looks with Mum. ‘Maybe you could look into joining a bereavement group? See a counsellor?’
‘I don’t need any of that,’ I said. ‘I just need time.’
‘What are you going to do with this?’ Mum asked, gently stroking the Adam Ant costume. ‘Are you going to donate it somewhere?’
‘Donate it? I don’t think so. It’s damaged for a start.’ I’d noticed a couple of tears in the jacket and the thought of how they’d got there made me feel sick. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to wear clothes that had been involved in such a horrible accident, even if they could be mended.
‘I’ll take it all to the tip if you like,’ Dad offered.
