Chapter 38 #2
“Alright,” Jerry strains, “an utter shit.” He steps closer, limiting the space between us. “I’ve been a prick, but I’m hoping you can forgive me, Morgan. I was just scared.”
“He was, curly fries,” Paddy says against my ear, slipping his hand in the one I hadn’t realised I’d curled tight. “Even wet himself a little when we got the call that you were coming home.”
My hand covers my smile.
“I didn’t piss myself,” Jerry replies, his body sagging. “I spilt my drink when Mum screamed.”
“He’s lying,” Paddy whispers, and Jerry goes to turn around, blowing out a forlorn breath.
I reach out and take his hand, pulling him back to me. My arms envelop him, and eventually, he slowly wraps me up, giving me a hug worthy of big brother status.
“Welcome home,” he says tenderly.
I pull away and smile up at him, seeing the graveyard in the corner of my eye. Waiting for me. “Missed you, Jer,” I tell him honestly, not just meaning in the past few months.
“Me too.”
Once I’ve said hello to Paddy’s family, minus Kevin, Paddy hands me some fresh flowers and walks me to the graveyard where he found me.
I know how terrifying that must have been for him, but I can’t remember a single moment of it.
He’s told me the story twice, but nothing comes to me.
No image of me driving the car. No recollection of making my way up the road.
No flashback of lying down by her grave and crying the first tears I had in years because I’d just learned that my best friend wasn’t actually here with me.
Taking a deep breath, we walk through the gate, my feet grinding to a halt when I see two people standing, looking down at Holly’s headstone.
“Did you know they were coming?” My heart jackhammers behind my ribs.
Any sense of composure I had leading up to this moment, leaves me in the blink of an eye.
“They didn’t reply when I invited them.”
My hands shake.
My legs begin to buckle.
However, I’m caught by the man who’s not going to let me go. “Steady,” he gently warns with some concern in his voice as he waits for me to find my feet. “Shall I go talk to them?”
Before he can move, I press my palm flat to his chest. “No. I can go.”
“Alone?” he asks uncertainly.
I nod back, seeing Christine looking over at us. Pete spins, wiping under his eye when he stares at me for the longest of moments.
“I’ll wait right here,” Paddy says.
Pulling my gaze off Paddy, he quickly kisses my cheek, and I make the slow walk along the path until I’m close enough to read the dates on Holly’s headstone.
The blank date from my diary three years ago.
Here lies Holly Danford.
Beloved daughter and friend.
Taken too soon.
August 15th 2004 – August 1st 2022
“Hi.” I tear my gaze off the writing.
“Morgan,” Pete says. “How are you?”
“Pete,” Christine scolds him, looking at me nervously.
“It’s okay, Mrs Danford. I’m okay.”
Christine sniffs and Pete shifts uncomfortably on his feet. “That’s so good to hear.”
Smiling at me with sorrow in her eyes, I look down at the headstone. “May I?”
They both take a step to each side.
In my hand are some sunflowers. “These are my favourite.”
I hear Pete choke back a sob. “Holly’s too.”
I know, I think to myself, laying the flowers next to the bright bunch of daisies Pete and Christine presumably have just laid. I then rest my hand flat to the cold stone, reading the inscription over again in my head. “Can I ask you both something?” A lone tear hits my cheek.
“Anything,” Christine tells me.
I sniff but leave the tear exactly where it is. “How did she die?” I swallow harshly, unable to remember.
My family have told me that Holly simply didn’t come into school one day. No one knew what had happened to her, only that her illness was untreatable.
I stand, taking Christine’s hand in mine when I see her sobbing.
Pete comes to her other side to console her, and she leans into him, still holding my hand as she tells me how I lost my best friend.
“Holly was one of the unlucky ones,” she starts by saying, trying her best to smile at me. “She caught meningitis which wasn’t treated in time.”
“Meningitis?” My voice cracks.
Christine nods, her lips rolling in on each other.
“She had life-threatening sepsis which caused damage to her brain.” She sucks in a breath before continuing.
“We didn’t notice the signs until it was too late.
By the time the ambulance came, she was in shock.
They couldn’t resuscitate her. One day, she was with us. The next, she was gone.”
No.
Life is incredibly unfair.
Choking on my sob, Christine pulls me into her arms.
Pete remains close but steps back a little, giving us room to embrace. Deep in my heart, I know she’ll be missing her daughter. Her touch. Her smell. The way she laughed.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell them both, hoping more than anything that they accept my apology. That they know how truly sad I am that their pain was dragged out because of me.
I was so ill I couldn’t let any of those things go. And until my medication begins to be lowered, if it ever will, I’ll never know what damage the loss of my beloved friend has truly caused.
The pain. The anger. The ache in my chest. They’re all still there. All still present. But lately, when I think of Holly, I don’t think of her as here with me. I think of her as I should. Gone, but absolutely never forgotten.
Giving my back a rub, Christine lets go of me, eyes running from my head to my feet. “You have nothing to apologise for.” She then dries both her eyes with a tissue hidden up her sleeve. “You look well.”
Checking my attire, I’d say I was presentable, but in no way dressed to properly say goodbye to someone like they do at funerals. “I’m not sure about that.”
Given I didn’t attend her actual service, Paddy arranged this small gathering for me as a token of the fight I’ve had, and the one I know is still to come. The one where I’ll have to live each day with a piece of me missing. The person I miss the most.
“He’s a good man,” Christine says, looking over my shoulder. “We should have told him we were coming. We just… We didn’t know how.”
I follow her gaze to Paddy who’s standing watching us in his winter coat and boots. “Yeah, he is a good man,” I reply, turning back to her.
“I always thought Holly had a thing for him. That was until she started seeing Callum West—”
“Callum West,” we both say at the same time, laughing comfortably with one another. “God, I miss her,” she then says, inhaling deeply.
“Me too.”
“You remind me so much of her, Morgan.”
My heart warms. “I do?”
Looking to her husband, Christine nods. “And we’re so unbelievably sorry that we didn’t say anything to you. We watched as the world whirred by you, all because we envied you.”
Her words have me angling my head slightly, looking between the two of them. “Envied me?” I check I heard her correctly.
With lips pressed tight together, Christine then explains, “We envied the extra time you had with her. Hearing you talking to her… It was like our daughter had never left us. She was alive and living through you. We’re as much to blame for everything that happened as the next person. But now’s the time to let her go.”
My tears flow like a river, running down both sides of my face to my chin. “I’m ready.” I may not look it, but I am. I have to finally be brave and let her go.
Christine and I turn and look down at Holly’s grave. Her final resting place.
I don’t give a speech or say any words; I simply bask in the knowledge that my beautiful friend has been, and always will be, my guide. The person who roots for me when I can’t take it anymore. The person who I’ll call upon for help because God only knows I’m going to need it.
After a few minutes of tranquil silence, only the sound of the distant birds can be heard. The chilly air doesn’t get under my skin like it usually does, due to the small beams of sunlight daring to break through the clouds.
Tilting my head back, I keep my eyes closed, hearing the iron gate open and close. “May we come over?” Paddy’s soft voice asks.
I smile, the sun still kissing my cheeks.
When I finally turn to look at Paddy, his troubled eyes scan my face.
“She’s gone.” I can still feel the tears streaming from my eyes, but with every fresh wave of emotion that leaves me, the weight I’ve been bearing lightens.
Paddy’s arms come up and wrap around my waist. I hug him back before we move to one side, allowing everyone to place their own flowers. I know they’ve already done this in the past, but being a part of this today is how it was meant to be. And for that, I’m so grateful to every single one of them.
“Is that what I think it is?” I ask Paddy, seeing Evie step up beside Siobhan. “Is that the swear jar?”
Paddy nods with an endearing smile. “She wanted to do something nice for Holly.”
Just as my tears had begun subsiding, a fresh wave floods me like a tsunami. “She did?” My voice croaks.
Evie places her beloved jar down next to the sunflowers.
“It’s bursting,” I point out, my tone surprised.
Not missing a trick, Evie turns to look at me. “Uncle Paddy did lots of swearing while you were away. But don’t worry,” she grins, “Grandma Siobhan whooped his arse every time.”
There are audible gasps before everyone erupts with laughter.
I wipe fresh tears off my face, knowing that it would of course be the youngest out of all of us who would so easily sweep away all the pain.
Laughter at her graveside.
It’s what Holly would have wanted. Not tears.
“And now we celebrate her life back at ours,” Paddy’s mum announces gently. “There’s plenty of food and drink for everyone.”
Pete and Christine exchange a nervous look.
I smile, nodding for them to join us if they can.
They both smile back and begin following both my parents and Jerry, who are heading towards the gate.
“Shall we go?” Paddy asks me.
I look at the grave one final time. “Yeah.”
He holds his hand out for me, and I slip my fingers into his. “So, you did lots of swearing while I was away?”
Paddy shrugs nonchalantly. “Couldn’t let the kid down, could I?”
“What is it she’s saving up for?”
Paddy’s fingers flex against mine. “A plaque for Holly’s head stone, to remember this day.”
“That’s sweet.”
“And extortionate,” he adds, his smile infectious. “The swear charge went up to five pounds a word.”
“Oh no,” I chuckle. “You must be broke.”
“Can’t put a price on love, curly fries.”
My heart warms as he holds open the gate for me. “No, I guess you can’t. Hey, I think we should do this every year.” I stop and face him.
“A memorial party?”
“Yeah.” Paddy waits for me to catch up. “Right, you already do.”
Rubbing his hands up and down my arms, he smiles at me. “You still have the serial shitter to walk everyday if you’re up for it?”
“What’s that got to do with a memorial party?” I ask, watching him closely.
“It doesn’t.” He shakes his head. “But we walk through here every day, right, so why does celebrating Holly’s life have to be limited to one day? We can take her fresh flowers every day if you like.”
Butterflies dance in my stomach. “You’re right.” I move and wrap my arms around him. It’s so wonderfully perfect, that in this moment, I know I’m going to be okay. “I love you, Paddy O’Keefe.”
He kisses my head. “I love you, curly fries.”
I take one last look over my shoulder. “Goodbye, Holly.”
Putting his arm over my shoulder, Paddy turns us, and for once, the future doesn’t feel like a question.
It feels like a promise.