How Laura Lewis Met Richard Brown

Chapter Thirty-One

Richard rubbed his eyes and stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. What greeted him was a man with red-rimmed eyes and pale, blotchy skin. He barely recognised himself. He hadn’t slept well. He’d tossed and turned all night, and at just before five he had woken from a vivid dream which had made his heart stutter and his palms sweat. Gertie had appeared in the bedroom, had sat on the edge of his bed. She had touched his cheek and then whispered in his ear. Her words had been crystal clear.

Don’t be sad, my love. I’ve had a good life. Now it’s time to live yours again.

Richard had sat bolt upright. Eyes wide, convinced that Gertie was in the room. It had taken him a minute or so to realise that he had been dreaming. But the experience had rattled him and so he had shuffled quietly out of bed and gone downstairs for coffee.

Now it was nearly six, so he grabbed a quick shower before making his way to Henry’s room. Henry needed at least twenty minutes to fully wake up and it took him half an hour to eat his breakfast and get dressed, ready for his day at nursery.

Richard was about to open Henry’s bedroom door when he heard his mobile ringing downstairs. He had left it on the kitchen table.

His heart thudded against his ribcage as he ran down the stairs two at a time.

He grabbed the phone, answered the call. It was the home.

‘Hello, Richard.’

It was Linda.

His throat was dry and he swallowed. ‘Hello.’

‘I’m sorry to call so early,’ she said. ‘Listen, are you sitting down?’

He closed his eyes and grabbed the back of the kitchen chair to steady himself. He could hear a faint buzzing noise in his ears. ‘Yes,’ he said, lying.

‘Richard, I am so sorry, love. We have just done our usual morning checks and when we checked on Gertie . . . I’m so sorry, but she passed away in her sleep. When we checked in on her at four a.m., she was fast asleep.’

Richard gripped the phone tighter, pulled the chair out and lowered himself down. Linda’s voice faded away.

All he could think about was the dream and that Gertie was gone.

‘Do you want to come and see her? We’ll give her a little wash, change her clothes.’

Richard concentrated on his breathing, sucking in the air. He felt sick.

‘Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can. I just need to . . .’ He paused. What was he going to say? Henry. What would he do about Henry? ‘I’ll need to sort out Henry.’

‘There’s no rush. Just give me a buzz when you’re on your way and I’ll look out for you.’

He ended the call.

He shivered. The room suddenly felt cold. He rubbed his face. He needed to phone Tracey, ask if she could come over and watch Henry. He’d need to phone school.

He squeezed his eyes shut and resting his head on the kitchen table, he wept. His heart was breaking all over again.

* * *

Tracey arrived twenty minutes later. She radiated efficiency and structure, telling Richard what to do. She woke Henry and sorted him out with breakfast. She sat next to Richard while he told his son that Nana Gertie had died. He used the word died . He knew the importance of saying the right words, that he needed to be clear from the very beginning. His voice cracked as he spoke.

Henry stared at him, confusion in his eyes. ‘Where is Nana Gertie?’ he asked. ‘Is she in heaven?’ His face crumpled and he started to cry.

Richard swallowed, pulled Henry towards him and enveloped him in a hug.

‘Yes, mate. She’s in heaven now.’

Richard had made a snap decision before Henry woke up. He would not let his son see Gertie. Not in the home. He wouldn’t understand. He would assume that she was asleep, and he knew that seeing her would only confuse him.

Tracey had agreed with him.

Richard wanted Henry to remember his nana as a woman who had been full of love and life. The nana who had given him biscuits and cuddles and told him stories of boys who had wonderful adventures.

He didn’t want his son to remember his nana as she was now — still and lifeless.

Richard hugged Henry tighter to his chest. Kissed the top of his head. ‘Listen, I need to go to the home and sort out a few things. So Nana Tracey is going to look after you. That okay?’ Richard asked, his face buried in his son’s hair.

Henry nodded. ‘Can I stay at home?’ he asked.

Richard sat up and looked over at Tracey, perched on the edge of the armchair. She nodded, then mouthed, ‘I’ll stay here with him.’

‘Yes, mate, you can have the day off nursery,’ Richard said.

‘Will I get into trouble?’ Henry asked.

Richard shook his head and ruffled Henry’s hair. ‘No, you won’t get into trouble. It’s a sad day, isn’t it?’

Henry looked down at his feet swinging in mid-air. ‘I am sad, Daddy.’

‘Me too,’ Richard said. ‘Me too.’

* * *

Laura received the phone call at 6.15 a.m. Linda apologised profusely for calling her at such an early hour on her day off, but she thought that Laura should know what had happened.

Laura asked how Linda was feeling. The woman had cared for Gertie for years.

‘I’m fine. You know how it is — you just cope, don’t you? But I feel so sad that she died all alone. We did our usual checks at two and four, and she was fast asleep. So she must have died some time between four and when we checked in on her at six.’

All Laura could see in her mind’s eye was Gertie, all alone in her room. Had she been frightened? Had it been a peaceful death? God, Laura hoped so. She couldn’t bear the thought of Gertie being in pain. Why hadn’t she been there for Gertie? She should have been there. Gertie should have been surrounded by those who loved her.

‘You okay, love?’ Linda asked gently.

‘I’m fine.’ Laura forced the words out. ‘Just thinking of her all alone.’

‘I know, but maybe it’s what she wanted,’ Linda said. ‘She didn’t want a fuss. Didn’t want anyone to see her in pain.’

Laura hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps Linda was right. That Gertie had wanted to go quietly from the world. But it still made her feel sad. No one should die alone. ‘I take it you’ve phoned Richard?’

‘Yes, just got off the phone to him. Poor man. He’s already been through enough. First his wife, and now Gertie.’

‘Was he okay?’ Laura asked. Her heart ached for him, for his loss, despite how angry she still felt. She’d deal with her anger later.

‘He was cut up. I could hear it in his voice. He’ll be calling in soon, once he’s sorted out childcare for Henry.’

Henry. Laura had forgotten about him and about how Gertie’s death would affect the bright little boy.

‘Listen, I shouldn’t really be asking you this, but there was another reason why I called,’ Linda said.

‘You want me to come in and work an extra shift?’ Laura asked, already wondering if she had an ironed uniform at hand.

‘No, we’re fine. We’re not short-staffed,’ Linda said. ‘You enjoy your day off.

‘Thanks for letting me know,’ Laura said, before ending the call. She thought about what was happening right now in Richard’s home. Was he making Henry breakfast? Had he called Tracey, or Megan to look after Henry? Or, would he take Henry to the home with him? Laura didn’t think that he would.

She stared at the clock. It was only twenty past six. So much had already happened and the day had only just begun. She willed herself to be brave. She wasn’t sure if she would ever forgive Richard for going behind her back, but right now she needed to do the right thing and help him any way she could. She picked up the phone.

* * *

As promised, Richard phoned Linda when he set off on the short walk to the home. He could have taken the car, but he needed to clear his head, and, if he was being truly honest, he needed a little more time. He had seen dead bodies before, the last being Sally. Although she had looked peaceful and no longer in pain, the woman who he’d seen laid out in the hospital bed had no longer been his wife. He had touched her skin. It had been so cold. Sally had hated the cold and he had wanted to put an extra blanket over her, to keep her warm. That image had lingered in his memory for a long time and it still woke him up in the middle of the night.

He was scared of what would greet him. He wasn’t scared of death itself, or of dying, but he was scared of what was left behind. Of what you left behind.

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he had forgotten all about Laura, who was walking alongside him, until she spoke.

‘How are you?’ she asked. ‘Sorry, that’s a stupid question,’ she said with an apologetic shrug. ‘You don’t need to talk.’

Richard shook his head. ‘Sorry, miles away. Just thinking, you know.’

‘I know,’ Laura replied as she looked ahead and matched his step.

Richard was glad that she wasn’t trying to make small talk with him. To fill the silence with endless chatter.

They carried on their way, side by side in silence.

* * *

Linda greeted them at the door with a hug for both of them. Without a word she led them up the stairs towards Gertie’s room.

Richard climbed the steps, legs like lead, his heart heavy with unshed grief.

Laura followed, her footsteps echoing on each step.

Richard’s heart thumped against his ribcage as he attempted to control his rising anxiety. He’d be okay. It would all be okay. She was at peace now. She’d had a good life. Just think of that.

Linda reached the door and paused for a moment, waiting for him to catch up with them. She stepped to one side to allow Richard to enter the room.

He cleared his throat and reached out to touch the handle of the door, the same way he had done hundreds of times before. But his hand shook. He couldn’t do it.

‘Do you want me to go in first, Richard?’ Laura asked, her voice gentle, radiating calm.

He nodded and moved away from the door.

Laura pushed open the door and he followed her in.

‘I’ll be outside if you need anything,’ Linda said.

But Richard didn’t hear her. His gaze, his entire focus, was on the woman who lay motionless on the bed.

He could smell death in the room. That smell that cannot be described, that doesn’t really have an odour, but a heavy presence that fills the empty space.

He stopped by the end of the bed.

Gertie looked as if she was asleep.

He told himself that she was asleep.

She looked at peace.

He took another step towards the bed. And then another.

Laura had moved over to the corner to sit on the chair.

Another chair had been placed by the side of the bed. Linda most probably had put it there. She was thoughtful like that.

Richard crumpled onto the chair and stared at his gran. The woman who had brought him up, who had never complained, who had taught him to be a man. To be kind and thoughtful and creative and loving.

He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he was scared. Her skin would be cold and he wanted her to be warm.

He took a deep breath and reached out to hold her hand.

He felt the shock in his core that her fingers did not grasp his.

He choked on his tears, bent his head and cried.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat and wept. Seconds and minutes passed by, but for him time stood still. He was no longer afraid. He wasn’t alone in the room.

Laura sat silently in her chair.

Richard thought of all the good times he’d had with his gran. She would not want him to wallow in grief. If she saw him now, she would be telling him off.

What are you doing, Richard? Why aren’t you asking Laura to join you for a coffee?

The thought made him smile. That’s what Gertie would want for him.

It was with a heavy heart that he stood and planted a kiss on her forehead. ‘I love you, Gran,’ he said.

Richard stood and surveyed the room. He would have to arrange to come back and sort out her things. Her books. But that could wait. For now, it didn’t matter.

His eyes lingered on the chest of drawers where he spotted a small cardboard box. He didn’t recognise it. In fact, he was sure he’d never seen it before.

Laura noticed what he was looking at and went over to it.

On top of the box was a handwritten letter. Gertie’s handwriting, which simply said: Laura, keep his memory alive.

Richard raised an eyebrow at her. ‘What’s in the box?’ he asked.

Laura hesitated before she answered. Her fingers touched the box gently, stroking the lid.

‘They are letters,’ Laura said slowly. ‘Letters that she wanted me to keep for her. I hope that’s okay and—’

Richard cut her off with a shake of his head. ‘If it’s what she wanted then that’s fine with me,’ he said. ‘We all have our secrets, don’t we.’

Laura opened her mouth to say something but closed it again.

Richard could see two envelopes sticking out from under the box. He pulled them free and looked at the writing.

‘This one’s for you,’ he said, handing over the one with Laura printed on it.

She took it without a word and shoved it in her bag.

Richard slipped the letter that was addressed to him into his jacket pocket to read when he was alone. ‘I’m ready now,’ he said. ‘To go.’

Laura went to pick up the cardboard box. ‘Okay.’

‘Please, let me,’ Richard said.

She moved aside and he lifted up the box. It was heavier than it looked.

He stood by the end of the bed and looked at his gran once more. A feeling of comfort swept over him and he wasn’t sure why.

‘I saw her,’ he said. His words were directed towards Laura, although he didn’t look at her.

‘Saw who?’ she asked.

‘Gertie,’ he said. ‘Listen, can we talk once we get outside?’

Laura looked at him with a strange expression on her face, but she nodded and followed him out of the room.