Sixty-one
It was quiet in the Garden of Roses. Although Pat and Don had offered for Beth to visit at the same time as them, she’d chosen instead to come alone. Only Lisa accompanied her.
‘It’s nice and peaceful, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. Very calm,’ Lisa agreed.
‘I think Nanna would be pleased she’s here.’
‘Hmm … maybe.’
‘Why only “maybe”?’
‘I think she would prefer to have been scattered somewhere a little more … lively.’
Beth laughed. ‘I take your point. She was a busy bee.’
‘She lived her life to the full. That’s for sure.’
‘But still, I think she’d be happy here. This is where Malcolm was scattered too. Right over there.’ Beth pointed to a large yellow rose bush. ‘Before we were even born. She used to come here a lot when she was younger.’
‘Do you think they’re together again?’ Lisa wondered.
‘I don’t know. This whole heaven, and life after death thing is tricky.’
‘I think we have a slightly more skewed take on it than most.’
Beth agreed. ‘We certainly have. But even we can’t explain our own situation.’
‘And … what about Hamish? What do you think happened to him?’ Lisa obviously had a vested interest in the demise of Malcolm’s vanishing twin.
Beth shrugged. ‘I don’t have a clue. Sorry.’ She reached into her bag and took out a photo of Nanna. It was taken many years before.
‘I love that photo of her.’ Lisa sounded emotional.
‘Yes, she looks very young.’
‘And happy. That red dress suits her.’
‘I remember when she went with Winnie to see a colour therapist, or something like that, the silly woman told her she was a “Spring Person” and must always wear pale colours. She was not happy about that.’
‘What was it she said?’ Lisa asked.
‘She said, I’m not a bloody watercolour painting and I refuse to be dressed like a baby in pale blue from head to foot.’
‘Daft of Winnie to have asked her to go really!’
‘Yes. She was never going to change her choice of outfits. She looked brilliant in bold colours.’ Glancing at the photo, Beth continued, ‘I prefer to think of her like this, rather than …you know?’ For one awful second, she was reminded of how Nanna had looked in the hospital, just after she’d passed away. Frail and as if she were made of wax. ‘I try not to remember her that way. I like to picture her just like this.’
‘Imagine if she was alive today, you know what she’d say, don’t you?’
‘Is this a dig about me still being with James?’
‘NO.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. I wasn’t going to mention him at all.’
Beth sighed. ‘To be honest, she would be mad as hell that I’m still with him. She’d probably give me a right telling off.’
‘Maybe. But it wasn’t that she didn’t like him. It was just ‒’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I know what it was. I’ve never been more ashamed than the day I had to admit to her all her money was gone.’
‘She certainly had the measure of him. She tried to warn you not to let him get his hands on it.’
‘Yes, she did.’ With a shiver, Beth got to her feet. Wrapping her coat around her, she began slowly making her way around the garden, reading the plaques as she went.
‘I’m sure that’s why she left her house to Dad, you know?’
‘Why wouldn’t she leave it to him?’ Beth asked. ‘He’s her only son.’
‘I know … but …’
‘Look, this man died the same day as Nanna.’ Beth pointed to a faded plaque. ‘The same day, but nearly fifty years earlier. Time’s funny, isn’t it? They both have the same date of remembrance, 28th February. It was the last day for both of them.’ Returning to Lisa’s comment, she asked, ‘Tell me, then, why wouldn’t she leave her house to Dad?’
‘He already has a house. A nice house. I think she should’ve left it to you.’
‘But I have a house too.’
‘Yeah, but … yours is a piddly little thing. Nanna’s house would be way better for you.’
‘Well, it was up to her who she left it to.’
‘Of course. I just think … well, I think she didn’t want James to have it. I’m sure if you’d not been with him, she’d have left it to you.’
‘Maybe. I can tell you one thing, though, I’m glad she didn’t leave it to us. James would be taking out extra mortgages on it left, right and centre. It would break my heart if we lost Nanna’s house. At least now Dad owns it, it’s safe.’
‘And the people who are renting it seem nice.’
‘They are.’
‘James was pissed off. Wasn’t he?’
‘You mean when we found out she’d left us nothing?’
‘Yeah. The idiot was absolutely fuming.’
‘I suppose he was. It was too soon after Nanna died, I don’t think I took it all in.’ Beth tried to think back to the day they’d read the will, but almost all that time was shrouded in grief.
‘You must remember the annoying little hissy fit he had when you got back home. All his protests that she ought to have left you something.’
Beth shrugged. ‘Now you say it, I do remember. But I didn’t care at that point. I was just desperately sad that we’d lost Nanna.’
‘Plus of course you were still heartbroken, because “Dickhead” had stolen the money.’
‘Yes, I was. I should’ve taken your advice and left him then.’
Lisa gave a hollow laugh. ‘Of course you should. There was nothing left of your marriage. The minute he took that four grand, he was essentially saying “divorce me”. But you didn’t.’
‘I didn’t have the strength. You don’t know how I felt.’
‘I felt it too. I missed her as well.’
‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t assume that because you don’t taste and hear things the way I do, that you feel emotions less too.’
‘Look, it’s not a competition to see who loved her more. I know you were the apple of her eye. And I know she didn’t even know of my existence until just before she died. But I did grieve for her, I still do.’
‘I’m just trying to explain why I couldn’t walk out on James back then. Mum and Dad were upset. We were all pulling together as a family, it just seemed like the wrong time to stand up and announce – I’m leaving my husband!’
‘And now?’
‘What?’
‘It’s a year since she died.’
‘That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?’
‘What I mean is, why not leave him now?’
‘The moment has passed. The anger that gripped me that day when I realised what he’d done, it’s … well, it’s not there any more.’
‘Do you love him?’
‘I feel sorry for him.’
‘For goodness’ sake, that’s no basis for a marriage.’
‘I honestly think, if I left him, he’d be dead in a year. He needs me to keep him out of trouble.’
‘How can you do that, when he’s so fucking secretive?’
‘Lisa don’t swear here, not when we’re surrounded by the dead.’
‘What the hell do they care?’
‘I don’t know. It just seems disrespectful.’
‘OK, fine. But tell me, how can you keep him out of trouble when he’s sneaking around behind your back?’
‘I do my best. I try to stop him gambling as much as possible.’
‘He’s a gambler, you will never stop him.’
‘Well, I have to at least attempt to keep him from harm.’
‘And what about a baby? Can you live your whole life without children?’
Beth stopped by a bench and sat down. Rubbing her forehead, she replied, ‘We’re still trying. You know we are. We tried this morning before he headed off to work on the coast.’
‘Oh yes, boring, clockwork sex, every time your temperature goes up or down or whatever the stupid rules are.’
‘According to my chart, today was a very good day to have sex.’
‘How romantic.’
‘And he’ll be gone for two nights, it made sense. I don’t see the harm in trying. It’s better than giving up.’
‘Can you hear yourself? Sometimes I wonder which one of us is living the half life.’
‘All right, enough now. Can’t you tell I’m getting a headache?’ Standing, Beth continued her journey around the Garden of Roses.
‘You know, I don’t really experience pain the way you do. By the time it reaches me, back here, it’s very faint.’
‘That would explain why you always wanted me to drink tequila. No hangover for you.’
‘It’s hardly compensation for all the things I miss out on, is it?’ Lisa replied, petulantly.
‘No. You’re right.’ Beth instantly felt guilty again.
With a sigh, Lisa asked, ‘Anyway, can we just go back and look at Nanna’s rose bush once more, before we head off?’
Keen to oblige, Beth agreed. ‘Of course. Just … please, remember my headache, no more nagging?’
‘I never nag.’ Lisa sounded wounded.
‘You never do anything but.’
‘Don’t be daft.’
‘By the way, what would she have said?’
‘Who?’
‘Nanna. You said, “Imagine if she were alive today, you know what she’d say, don’t you?” But I don’t know.’
‘That was ages ago, you idiot.’
‘Still, tell me? What would she say?’
‘She’d say we all need to get over it. It’s been a year now. She’d say life is for the living. And she’d say we ought to stop moping around in this friggin’ cold Rose Garden and go to the pub.’