Nevertheless, there was something that prevented her from moving forward; it was something that bound her to the bed, to the hospital room, and to the world that she was leaving behind.
Lily.
Where is she? Is she still around?Violet’s eyelids opened with a flutter, and the harsh fluorescent lights came back into focus for a brief time. The weight of the hospital bed pressing in around her caused her to feel chilled, and the place was too bright and too sterile for her convenience. It became increasingly difficult for her to breathe as the agony in her chest became more intense. It was a heavy, persistent pressure.
‘Gran. I’m here.’
Even though it seemed like it was coming from a vast distance, Violet was drawn back to the present moment by the voice, though only for a brief moment.
When Violet slowly turned her head, her eyes were having trouble focusing, but she was able to see her granddaughter sitting by the bedside. Her granddaughter’s face was pale, and her eyes were red from sobbing. The hand that Lily was clutching was warm and steady, and it was gripping hers. On the other side her son, such a good man, so much like his father.
The words ‘I’m here, Gran’ were spoken softly by Lily as she wrapped her fingers more tightly around Violet’s fragile hand. ‘Look, I’m right here.’
Violet felt a flood of warmth sweep over her as she heard the sound of her voice, which was so reassuring.
A brief moment later, she found herself back in the garden. Lily was there. She was young, laughing, singing, her curls tangled in the wind. She could hear her voice, no older than ten.
*
‘Gran! Listen to me sing.’
Violet flashed a grin in response to the recollection, but it was short and disappeared just as fast as it had appeared. In its stead, the cottage vanished, and the hospital room was brought back into existence. Now, the ache in her chest was intolerable, and her breathing was shallow, making it difficult for her to take a breath.
She needed something, and then she heard it.
Lily was singing once more, the final time. She listened, feeling her breathing slow down and the pain began to go. It was sweet relief, both the pain going and Lily’s singing.
The hospital room began to fade. She wasn’t there anymore. She was back at the cottage once more. Martin was standing at the window, and she was indeed at home. His hand was extended ahead of him, and his grin was filled with love and patience. He was getting closer.
‘It’s time to go,’ he said, his voice quiet but insistent to get his point across. ‘You’ve been here so long. You must be so tired.’
Violet smiled. ‘I am a little weary,’ she said and took his hand, and they opened the back door and walked out together.
39
Lily felt the air change as soon as she left Pippin Cottage. As if nature herself was grieving Gran’s death. The clear, brilliant days of summer were gone and it hadn’t stopped raining in the four days since she passed.
Just days earlier, the trees that had been a riot of reds and golds now stood naked, their skeletal branches pointing towards a leaden sky. A stinging wind carrying the promise of cold murmured through the village. Feeling the cold sink into her bones, Lily tightened her cardigan around her as she sat looking at Gran’s empty armchair.
The funeral had to be organised and everyone in the village wanted to come, and Gran, never one for religion, would have wanted everyone to be welcome and have some of Mrs Douglas’s shortbread and a cup of tea, so it was agreed with Peter and Denise it was to be held in the village hall.
But now she felt so alone. Even though the heater was on and Mr Mistoffelees was sitting on Gran’s chair, purring happily, the cottage, once so vibrant and cosy, now seemed empty and chilly.
That morning her phone buzzed for the umpteenth time. Lily turned it over, as she had been doing for the preceding few days. She grudgingly grabbed it when it started ringing, though, seeing Paul’s name on the screen. She had been avoiding his calls but she knew she had to answer now.
‘Hello?’ Even to her own ears her speech sounded hollow.
‘Lily! At last!’ Paul’s speech seemed way too cheerful for her present state of mind. ‘I’ve tried to get in touch to you. Listen, we should discuss the auditions.’
Lily closed her eyes, feeling like a headache was developing. ‘Paul, my grandmother passed away and I have the funeral, so I won’t be able to come next week. I know it’s inconvenient but it’s important.’
There was a pause. ‘Was that the old lady at the show? With the oxygen tank?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ Lily said rolling her eyes at how rude he was.
‘How old was she?’ he asked.
‘Ninety-seven.’
