Morgan’s smile lit up her face as she walked into the lounge. She dropped the tea towel onto the coffee table and lay down on the settee, pulling the crocheted blanket draped over the back of the settee down onto her. The blanket had been lovingly made by her mother and Morgan felt as if she were receivinga heavenly hug from her mother. Closing her eyes, she sighed withy contentment and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
HOT BREATH ON THE NAPEof her neck woke her. Morgan turned over onto her back and looked up into green eyes. She stretched and smiled. ‘You’re back at last. Have you eaten your supper? Shall we watch that film now?’
Bren sat on the edge of the bed and reached for her hand, lifting it to his mouth. He kissed it softly. Morgan frowned. The skin on her hand looked different. It wasn’t as smooth and plump as it usually was—and where was her wedding ring? Bren placed her hand down onto the duvet cover. It was her favourite, it had wildflowers covering the bottom section, starting with strong vibrant colours and fading as the higher they went. How had she come to bed? She couldn’t remember waking up to come upstairs to bed.
Bren reached out and his fingers grazed the side of her face. ‘We never got to watch that film together...remember?’
Morgan’s frown deepened as decades old memories suddenly rushed into her mind, the memories that that came after she fell asleep on the settee. She remembered the intense knocking on the front door that had snapped her out of her deep sleep, causing her to jolt upright, and sending the crotched blanket tumbling onto the floor. She remembered the way her heart had accelerated, kicking into the fight or flight mode. The knot in her stomach when she’d realised it was dark outside...except for the flash of blue lights, which were illuminating the sitting room, making everything feel so surreal.
But most of all, she remembered the sickness she’d felt back then which came back in a rush as she looked up at the shadowy figure of her beloved husband who had passed away three decades ago.
He nodded with a knowing smile. ‘Yes, it’s me love, but don’t worry, you’re dreaming. I wanted to show you how happy you used to be.’ He leaned down and kissed her forehead. ‘But I’m gone. I’ve been gone a long, long time. You need to stop holding onto me. Stop grieving my loss. You’ve grieved for too long. We’ll see each other again someday—but remember, life is short. It’s time you thought about opening your heart again and letting someone else in. I can’t be there for you in later years, but I want someone to be. I want someone to love you and ook after you the way I used to look after you.’
Morgan felt something tickling her cheeks. She reached up to feel what it was. They were wet. She was crying. She shook her head. ‘But I’ve only ever wanted you Bren.’
‘You’ll always have me, love. I’m always in your heart. Just promise me you’ll be open to receiving someone else's love.’
Morgan’s face crumpled. ‘I-I can’t. You are my husband.’
‘Until death us do part. I’m gone my love. I’ve been gone a long time. Don’t feel guilty for opening your heart to someone else. You have more than enough love to share. I’ll always love you, no matter what.’
Bren began to fade. ‘Bren! Don’t go...please don’t go.’ A sod hacked up from Morgan’s chest and tumbled out of her mouth.
‘Promise me, Morgan.’ Bren’s brown eyes got dimer.
‘I-I promise...I promise my love.’
Morgan sat up in bed. It was still dark outside, the wind still howling against the window panes. ‘It-it was a dream—just a dream.’ Her hand lifted to her face. Her cheeks were wet with tears. Another sob came, and then another. Her hands flew to her face, and she sobbed into them. ‘Oh Bren. I miss you so much.’ Her heart ached, but the dream had felt so real.
She pulled back the covers and reached for her dressing gown draped over the chair next to her bed. Quickly pulling it on, she slipped her feet into her slippers and pushed herself up ontouncertain feet. Her cane was resting against the chair. She took it and leaned onto it hard. Her legs felt wobbly and weak. She was trembling and her heart was still racing.
Going out onto the landing she switched on the light and made her way to the kitchen. Clicking on that light as well, she ambled over to the kettle. Her limbs now as heavy as her heart. She flicked the switch on the kettle and sat down heavily into a chair by the small kitchen table as she waited for it to boil.
Brett suddenly appeared at the doorway rubbing his eyes. He peered at Morgan. ‘Is it time to wake up? I feel as though I haven’t slept.’
Morgan smiled up at her brother-in-law. She was glad to see him. It used to be her sister Marie who would wake up and come and check on her if she woke in the night. Marie and Brett had been so good to her over the years since Bren’s shocked passing, insisting she spent more and more time living with them in the large flat above the pub. At the time she lost Bren, none of them knew she’d end up permanently living there. How strange life was. They had been there for her when she needed it most, and then she was they had been there for each other when they’d lost Marie, and since his dementia diagnosis, Morgan was here to watch over Brett with Pippa and Oliver’s help.
‘Sorry Brett. It’s still night. I-I had a dream. I dreamt about Bren. It was so lovely to see him again.’
Brett stumbled into the kitchen half asleep and sat down in the chair opposite Morgan. He smiled across the table to her. ‘I love it when I dream of Marie. It feels as so real. She always looks so beautiful.’
Morgan reached across the table and patted Brett’s hand. ‘That’s because she was always beautiful, inside and out. The angels of earth aren’t with us long, but they leave a lasting impression on us, don’t they?’ Brett smiled nodded. ‘Want a hot chocolate? I’ve just boiled the kettle.’
Brett looked across the table at Morgan and nodded again, a smile tugging up the edges of his mouth. ‘I’d love one sis.’
‘Okay. Two milky hot chocolates coming up, then we better get back to bed.’ Morgan looked at the time on the cooker’s digital clock. ‘Oh my goodness. It’s only 3:33.’
‘I hope the wind stops soon. The fishermen will be going out anytime now.’
Morgan nodded in agreement. ‘And me. I hate to think of them out there in rough seas. Their families must be frantic with worry this time of the year.’
‘Anytime of the year,’ Brett added. ‘The weather is temperamental at the best of times.’
Morgan had a flash back of the night she lost Bren. The sun had been setting after a hot sunny day when she’d settled into the settee for a nap, but within the hour there had been a summer storm. ‘I know Brett...I know.’
She got up and busied herself getting two mugs out of the cupboard to hide her brimming tears. She didn’t want to be melancholy in front of Brett. He was still half-asleep happily gazing into the distance, she hoped he was reliving happy memories of his wife, her sister.
After making the mugs of hot chocolate, she placed one down in front of Brett. ‘How about we have some lunch together in the pub tomorrow and bring some photographs of Marie and Bren along? We can share our happy memories together.’
