Twenty-eight
Hooking her arm through her grandfather’s, Bree escorted Charlie, with Ryder following, down the deserted corridor, in the far forgotten corner of the small bush hospital, that ended at a glass door. There, Bree pressed the buzzer.
‘Hi, Romie.’ She waved at the middle-aged man in a lab coat, working inside the sterile room filled with steel benches. It was the morgue that doubled-up as the funeral home in this small town.
‘Hey, Bree.’ Romie opened the door. ‘Are you here about Harry?’
‘We are.’
‘Come on through.’
‘Do I have to?’ Charlie hesitated at the doorway.
‘We won’t be long, Pop.’
‘Are you comin’ in too, son?’ Charlie squeezed his hat, looking to Ryder to help him escape.
‘I’ll be right beside you.’ Ryder was a cool customer who looked like he’d seen a few dead bodies in his time.
Even though she was dying to know about his meeting with Marcus, Bree was here for Charlie. Family always came first.
Romie rustled through the paperwork on his desk and pulled out a file. Flicking it open, he grabbed a pen. ‘So, what are you planning for Harry? Cremation?’
‘We’re gonna bury him next to our father, with the rest of the Splint family up at the local cemetery.’ Charlie rolled his shoulders, clearing his throat. ‘Take note, kid. I want the same. Don’t forget, my plot is between my wife and daughter. Your…’
‘I know, Pop.’ Even if she’d known about his funeral plans for years, it still didn’t stop Bree’s stomach from spiralling at the horror of what her grandfather was saying. Sure, Charlie was an old man, with a heart condition, but she liked living under the fantasy that her grandfather was going to outlive her.
Bree needed to change this conversation. ‘Romie, what’s happening with Penelope Price?’
Romie flicked open another folder, dragging his finger down the page. ‘Says here she’s getting shipped out tomorrow. Why?’
‘It’s flamin’ wrong what they’re doing.’
Bree put her hand on Charlie’s shoulder to silence him as she opened her bag and pulled out a bottle of her special homemade gin and put it on the table.
‘Is that the cucumber-rose flavoured gin? My wife likes that one.’
‘So you said.’ And it was.
‘How big is your handbag?’ Ryder’s eyebrows knitted together as he gawked at her large leather bag. ‘No wonder Dex calls it the witchy sack.’
‘Do you mind? Pop and I are negotiating here.’
‘I wish you’d tell me what we’re negotiating about, kid,’ mumbled Charlie.
‘Romie, I want you to swap wedding fingers on the skeletons.’
‘Excuse me?’ Romie blinked as Charlie’s jaw dropped.
Ryder massaged one of his eyebrows, sharing a deep chuckle. It was rare to hear Ryder laugh.
‘I’m serious.’ Sure, it sounded ridiculous now she’d voiced her request, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. ‘Penelope and Harry were lovers, who were going to get married, and they were buried together in a cave for over sixty years. Now they’re going to be separated—it’s wrong.’
‘I agree, kid, but a finger?’
‘I don’t have a set of wedding rings on me, and I bet they took off all her jewellery. Amirite, Romie?’
‘They had to. Its evidence.’ Romie peered at the paperwork. ‘Says here that Penelope Price wasn’t wearing a wedding ring when they found her. But wasn’t she married to that other fella, Jack Price?’
‘It’s complicated.’ Boy, was it ever!
‘Eh?’
‘Look, they were going to get a sort of…’ She shrugged, at a loss for the right word.
‘Annulment,’ said Ryder.
‘That.’ She gave the dark and broody male a nod of thanks. ‘An annulment would have allowed Penelope Price to marry my Great-Uncle Harry, making her Charlie’s sister-in-law.’
‘Too right.’ Charlie’s head bobbed up and down eagerly.
‘That’s why I’m suggesting we swap their finger bones, where they would have worn their wedding bands as a symbol of their love—because they never got that chance to get married.’ Was she making sense? ‘Look, it might not be the most romantic gesture, but if Harry is going to be buried here, and Penelope is going to be shipped down south to be buried in some shoe box next to the pet cemetery—’
‘I bloody well hope not!’ Charlie’s nostrils flared.
‘Okay, Pop, this is the plan I’m proposing.’ Bree held up her naked ring finger. ‘If we swap Harry’s wedding finger with Penelope’s, her family won’t know any different. It’ll just be us and the departed lovers. That way they’ll still have a piece of each other with them no matter where they go. They’ll still be together forever . Just like the words they carved into that cave’s wall.’
‘I get it.’ Charlie nodded. ‘And I like it.’
Romie jabbed his pointer finger at his wrinkled forehead as if wrestling with what was right in the eyes of the law. ‘I can’t allow anyone to tamper with the bodies.’
‘They’re skeletons. How is anyone going to know that it didn’t happen in that cave?’
‘I could lose my job, Bree.’
‘Fine. I’ll give you a case of gin and swear to never tell a soul.’ She looked at the others for confirmation.
Ryder dragged out his wallet and pulled out five crisp hundred-dollar bills. ‘Here, Romie, why don’t you go buy Charlie a coffee or something?’
It didn’t take long for Romie to snatch up the cash. ‘For the record, I know nothing.’
‘You’re a good man, Romie,’ said Charlie, hooking his arm over Romie’s shoulder. ‘Why don’t you show me where that smancy water fountain is?’ asked Charlie, escorting Romie down the corridor. ‘Did you see the footy on the tellie the other night? Didn’t the Saints cop a hiding…’
Ryder closed the door wearing a smug expression.
‘You didn’t have to flash the cash. Romie would have taken the gin.’ She snatched a pair of gloves from the box on the nearby shelf.
‘Done this before, have we?’
‘No. And if you’d told me this morning, I’d be doing this, I would have laughed in your face.’
‘You are unpredictable, I’ll give you that.’
She looked over the paperwork to find the right locker. ‘Please, no icky stuff.’
‘I’ve got you.’ Ryder gently pushed her aside to open the cold storage locker.
Sliding on the plastic gloves, she took a steady breath as if bracing herself. Death wasn’t new to her—come on, she’d grown up on a cattle station and had seen her fair share of it in the harsh outback. Still, this was different. ‘You aren’t afraid of dead bodies, are you?’
‘Nope. You?’ Ryder rolled out the large tray holding a long black bag.
‘I’ve seen way more than I care to. But these were my first human skeletons. I’ve seen plenty of cattle bones in my times.’ And the body on the tray was just that, bones. ‘Which one is this?’
‘Harry.’ Ryder opened the next refrigerated locker and pulled out the other tray to read the tag on the black bag. ‘This is Penelope.’
‘At least they kept them side by side in the same freezer.’ She unzipped Harry’s black bag. ‘You know, this should feel wrong.’
‘It doesn’t?’ His tone was sarcastic as he unzipped Penelope’s bag.
‘No. It feels right.’ Over time they’d just been left with a series of bones, allowing her to grab the bones of Harry’s fourth finger. She then turned to Penelope. Her bones were smaller. Without clothing, or jewellery, it looked like a skeleton you’d see in any school science lab.
‘For the record…’
‘Hmmm…’ Penelope’s bone was so frail and light.
‘I think this is a good idea.’
She gazed up at the stern stockman. ‘I had to do something. They’ve been together for so long, it’s not fair to separate them now.’
‘But why the wedding finger?’
‘Legend says there’s a vein that runs from the heart to the fourth finger of the left hand.’ She held up her gloved hand to trace along the finger. ‘The Romans called it vena amoris —the vein of love. That’s why most people wear their wedding rings there: to show their hearts have been claimed.’
‘I don’t see any rings on your fingers.’
She spread her fingers in the glove. ‘I can’t wear them. Working with hot metals means rings heat up and burn me. Pop’s the same. He’ll wear his wedding band if he went out, to show he belonged to someone.’ Her voice softened as she glanced at the couple. ‘I bet you don’t believe in soulmates.’
He leaned closer, tucking one of her curls aside. ‘I can see you do.’
‘As much as I hate to admit it, I am a romantic.’ She smiled faintly, thinking of her pile of romance books and all the times she’d helped Cap and Ash plan romantic gestures for their partners. ‘I know this might not be the most romantic thing, but at least they’ll have a part of each other, no matter where they end up.’
She placed the finger bones in their new spots. ‘What do you think?’
Ryder stood beside her with his head tilted, his masculine aroma divine against the sterile room. ‘No one will be able to tell what you’ve done. There’s only a slight difference in the colour and bone length. Other than that, they look undisturbed.’
‘But we’ll know, and Charlie will know. Harry was family, and if Harry had married Penelope, she would be family too.’ And it stopped part of that guilt for having ever thought wrong of Harry. Even if Harry may be accused of murder, his letter and his love for Penelope suggested otherwise.
‘Harry and Penelope were going to elope. They were planning their happily-ever-after, it just got taken from them too soon—it’s not fair.’ Bree might not believe in love, but this couple did. And by doing this, maybe she would begin to believe in the beauty and power of love, too.
She went to zip up their bags and paused. ‘I feel like we should say something.’
‘What?’
‘I don’t know. It’s not like I moonlight as a bone collector.’
‘What’s that prayer you say when you’re about to eat cupcakes? That sounds like a wedding vow.’
‘Hmm…’ But was it right? ‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join these two people in the act of matrimony…’ Her voice bounced off the walls. ‘It sounds lame.’
‘Keep going.’ Ryder nodded at her in encouragement.
‘Fine.’
She took a deep breath, searching for some sort of inspiration for a couple who deserved so much better.
‘Penelope, I may not have known you, but I learned about you in Harry’s letter, and I could hear the love he had for you in his words. When I first saw you in that cave, after my initial surprise, I saw a man and a woman. I saw a man sheltering his loved one, where you held on to each other, to comfort each other through the darkness, the way all those love stories say it should be. That even in death, you still never parted.’
‘Harry, Penelope, in the short time you were together, you showed an enormous amount of love for each other. You showed love is about sharing fears and finding comfort in each other. You showed love for each other by working through the many challenges you faced, the painful times, and the hopes that had you planning your future together. You started your journey through life apart, and through the threads of time, you finally found each other to end your days together. I wish it had been different for you, but in the end, you chose each other because of love, because it was that once-in-a-lifetime kind of love.’
Placing her hands over their ring fingers she said, ‘They say love is felt in the bones, where you truly become a part of each other, and I believe your love story will continue. Maybe you’ll meet again in the afterlife, or in a new life where you’ll meet for the first time, but know you were together to the end in this one. Rest in peace, Mrs Penelope Splint . Rest in peace Mr Harry Splint. May your souls be forever entwined. For you are his. She is yours. Always together forever .’
Ryder slid his arms around Bree’s shoulders, and tenderly wiped the single tear trickling down her cheek. ‘Together. Forever.’
It sounded like a promise that silkily glided over her skin to shift something inside her chest, spilling a gentle warmth from deep within her stone-cold soul. Was the fortress of granite guarding her heart, once reduced to ash, now stirring to life for Ryder?