16 February 1914
HOW IS IT that tragedy can strike so suddenly, without a warning? Perhaps, after what happened to Mummy and Daddy, I should have learned this lesson already; but how could I have ever imagined that such a thing would happen to us again?
One moment Rex was here, puffing at one of his awful Mexican cigars as he strode up and down the driveway, telling Mr Bruce off for raking it unevenly.
I was sitting out in a lawn chair with a book, trying to make the most of the surprise bout of winter sunshine.
I remember thinking that I wished he would keep the noise down so that I could concentrate.
Then he did fall silent, and I was pleased. God, I am so ashamed to have felt that.
It was not until Mr Bruce said something or other that I looked up, and saw that Rex had come to a halt and was swaying slightly, one palm pressed against his chest. He had dropped the cigar.
‘What is it, Rex?’ I asked, standing. As I drew closer, I saw that he was sweating profusely.
‘Do you not see him?’ he asked. His voice rattled, as if he could not catch his breath.
There was terror on his face. His gaze was fixed on a point further down the driveway, but there was nobody there.
‘He’s waiting for me.’ At that, he fell to the ground.
He was dead long before the doctor arrived.
It was a sudden heart failure, I am told. But Rex was so young for it; only thirty-two. Where is the sense in that?
Later, I told the others about what Rex had said before he collapsed.
Charlie thinks he must have been talking about Daddy – his ghost returned to guide Rex to the other side.
But then why had my brother looked so scared?
I can’t help but wonder if he was instead remembering …
Sorry, I must put my pen down here before I start to cry again.