‘It might be better face to face. Johnnie’ll be at work already and I can’t bear the thought of her being all upset while she’s got a baby and a toddler to care for. But that means abandoning Dad.’
‘Don’t you worry about that. I’ll let Rosie and Oliver know what’s happening and I’ll stay here.’
Georgia carried Dad’s drink through to the lounge and told him she was going to see Keira but would be back later.
‘Keira’s not going to take it well,’ Dad said, shaking his head when Georgia had left in his car. ‘Your mum was close to all her grandchildren but, after Astrid was born, she formed an extra-special bond with Keira. When she was on maternity leave, she’d often pop round and June was looking forward to her doing the same with Arlo.’
I couldn’t think of anything helpful to say to that, so I sipped on my tea. It was probably best for Dad if I remained silent, giving him a chance to say what he wanted when he wanted.
‘She loved her family so much, you know,’ he said after a while. ‘She often said how lucky we were that everyone had settled round here and, even though you had your time in Newcastle, she never doubted that you’d return one day.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Took a bit longer than we’d have hoped, but she was right.’
‘If I’d have known this was going to happen?—’
Dad raised his hand to stop me. ‘Don’t even go there. None of us can see into the future and you going down a tunnel of regrets isn’t going to help anyone. The important thing is you did return and everything was right in the world again. She was so happy to have you back. Tuesday lunches with you were the highlight of her week.’
‘Were they really?’
‘They were. She loves… loved… Sunday lunch with the whole family but she could find it a bit exhausting having everyone together. She preferred spending time with you all individually, properly talking without all the distractions and interruptions.’
‘I loved our Tuesday lunches too. I know things are going to be up in the air for the next couple of weeks but I think we should keep them going if that’s okay with you.’
Dad’s eyes clouded with tears and he nodded and gulped. ‘I’d like that.’
* * *
By the time Georgia returned to Derwent Rise, it was late morning. Between us, Dad and I had made most of the phone calls to friends and relatives to let them know about Mum. A couple of their closest friends offered to phone other villagers which was helpful.
As anticipated, Keira had taken the news very badly, especially as she felt she’d had some part to play in it by getting Mum and Dad to care for Astrid yesterday. No matter what Georgia said, she couldn’t seem to bring her round. Dad decided she needed to hear it from him so he and Georgia went to Keira’s while I nipped back to Willowdale Hall to shower and change. Once I’d done that, I emptied the contents of my evening clutch bag onto my bed, intending to swap them into my regular bag. With everything that had happened, I’d completely forgotten about Dad printing those photos from our alpaca meet and greet. I studied the one of Mum with Georgia, Dad and me. She’d been in her element that day and this photo perfectly captured that.
Thinking about the photos reminded me of the one I’d spotted of Flynn with Mum. It struck me that he hadn’t been on the list Dad and I had compiled of people to ring, but he’d want to know. It was possible that Dad hadn’t added Flynn to the list for my sake and might have called him this morning but, if he hadn’t, maybe Mark could do that. It wouldn’t feel right coming from me.Hi, it’s me. You gave me your contact details for if and when I was ready to talk. Well, I’ve decided I don’t want to talk but I thought you should know that my mum died last night.
Flynn would presumably want to come to the funeral. That would make an already difficult day even harder but this was about my parents, not me. They’d loved him and he clearly still felt the same way about them to have stayed in touch. I kicked myself that I hadn’t taken him up on his offer to talk after all. If I had, I wouldn’t be in this predicament, but the truth was I hadn’t and still didn’t want to meet up with him. For me, that wound had never healed and I didn’t want to deepen it. I didn’t want to cause Flynn further damage either.
When I returned to Derwent Rise, Dad was on the phone. From what I could hear of the conversation, my guess was that it was someone from the village who’d heard the news third hand and wanted to pass on their condolences. I spotted Georgia in the back garden hanging out the load of washing I’d put on this morning in between phone calls so I indicated to Dad that I was going out to her. She had her back to the house and, as I approached, I realised she wasn’t actually hanging anything up – just staring at the clothes she’d already put on the line.
‘Georgia?’ I said gently, not wanting to scare her by suddenly appearing by her side.
She turned round, tears streaming down her cheeks once more. ‘Hanging up Mum’s clothes,’ she said, her voice breaking, ‘knowing we won’t…’
There was no need for her to finish that sentence. The cream top flapping in the wind in front of us was Mum’s go-to top – one of her favourites which she said she could dress up or down and never seemed to age no matter how many times she washed it.
‘It felt weird putting them in the machine,’ I admitted, drawing her into a hug. ‘But I didn’t want to leave them in the basket for Dad to see to later.’
‘You did the right thing. It’s just… I can’t believe she’s gone.’
I hung up the last of the clothes while Georgia wiped her cheeks and blew her nose. What must she think of me for not crying? Hopefully she hadn’t noticed.
‘How’s Dad been?’ I asked.
‘He’s been on the phone most of the time. Putting on a brave face, I think.’
We went back inside just as Dad was ending his call.
‘Anything you need us to do?’ I asked.
Dad shook his head. ‘You don’t need to stay with me, you know. I appreciated your help with the calls and will appreciate it again when we have a date for the funeral, but I’m conscious I’m keeping you both from your jobs.’
‘I’d booked today off with going away for the weekend,’ Georgia said. ‘So I’m free all day.’
