Epilogue - Chen
I hear them and feel them, you know, every word of thanks, every silent kiss, every quiet prayer of gratitude.
I remember Benjamin Stokes-Rattigan asking, so what’s in it for you?
Truthfully?
It’s these messages of thanks – that’s what’s in it for me.
To know I chose wisely, made a difference.
Thank you for journeying with me, for letting me give you a little insight, a glimpse into the world of time regifted. And yes, it’s sad, but also wonderful that those summoned never know that this is their extra time.
Fifteen minutes, give or take.
The impossible made possible!
I see how most people find life hard, sweating the small stuff, not realising that everything is the small stuff!
Because sooner than you’d like to think, you’ll be forgotten, your possessions discarded, your home someone else’s, and all that will remain is the lingering essence of you for as long as someone dare speak your name.
But even to them, the details of your face, the exact pitch of your voice, the shape of you, all of it will fade until it’s gone altogether.
And as for time – when you wake and look at the person laying with their head on the pillow next to you – ask yourself this, ‘How do you know where in time this falls?
Is it now, right now, the present, or could it be in golden moments between time; their time or yours?
A moment when the person you are looking at has called it back, chasing one final glimpse of you.
The answer is, you don’t know, how could you? But if I can offer you some wise counsel, I would say this: treat that moment as if it could be either, and you won’t go far wrong.
Don’t fear death.
Don’t be afraid.
It isn’t always the neat goodbye you think it is, because in the future at one hour to midnight, someone might choose you.
I expect you’re wondering what happened to the people you have read about. Well, it would go against every code of ethics and each agreed and heavily protected working practice for me to have taken a peep into the future and checked up on them.
I can’t help anyone to travel forward, no one can do that, but peep at what lies ahead? It’s possible.
Oh, what the hell, we’ve come this far, here’s what I saw:
Violet Katherine Drummond passed away aged ninety-nine, surrounded by her family. Her granddaughter, Natalie, swears her nan reached past her and said, ‘Here he is! Hello, my love!’ just before she died. She believes it was Harry come to take her home.
I think she might be right.
Lewis Mark Noble never remarried. But he did learn how to make a meal out of nothing, mastered laundry, and somehow managed to keep track of all the cards that needed sending to his family.
He figured out how to make the house feel cosy and even grew plants.
He remembered most of the names of their neighbours, and could get stains out of the rug, even duck shit.
He made a fair attempt at making Christmas special, and he learned to live a good life.
A life steeped in grief, but a good life, nevertheless.
He ate dinner with his mother-in-law every single Sunday until she passed away.
Sadly, he never mastered how to plump a cushion.
Ruby Jade Brown went on to do great, great things! She gained her doctorate and became a celebrated activist, advocating for young women who found themselves in need of guidance and support when pregnant.
She married Leyton and went on to have three daughters, seven grandchildren (four girls, three boys!) and two great-grandchildren (two girls!).
She lived a full life, a life that made a difference. She kept her promise and did it for her – and Sahara, who never got the chance.
Verity Louise Clarke married her Patrick and lived happily. The two returned to the Highlands with their young twins and set up their own rural practice. Sadly, there was still a need for an infernal computer.
Her father, Dr Rodney, passed away only weeks after the high-profile court case that saw Jon Morton sentenced to life imprisonment for the murder of Grace Rosemary Clarke.
During the trial – a new photograph of Gracie was circulated, one showing her laughing, her inner light shining for all to see.
Oh, and Janice finally quit smoking.
Benjamin Stokes-Rattigan never stopped travelling. He grew his hair, wore sandals, and answered only to ‘Ben,’ as he hopped from country to country, working in bars, and doing manual labour when he ran out of beer money.
He lost his fancy watch, but, by the time he realised it was missing, had no idea where it had gone. Ah, yes, that fancy watch, a decade old at least, owned by a man who knew what he wanted out of life and how to live it.
A man who found peace by stepping out of his father’s shadow, a dark, cold place where his brother, Marcus, lived out his days.
Ben’s inheritance sat in a bank account for decades, until he finally, having found his sealegs, dipped into it and bought a sailboat, which he and his partner, Matthew, sailed into the sunset. He did so without a hint of sea sickness.
Occasionally, he sent postcards to his stepmother, Allegra, and of course his lovely, lovely mother whom he always adored and who adored him in return.
Mikey Charles Frewin became a rare example of a contented man. Someone who took joy in the smallest things and woke each day thankful to be alive. He and Gemma were married for nearly seven decades and, in their latter years, doted on their grandson, Mikey Jnr, who became a footballer!
The fact he played for the Blues and not the Reds was rarely mentioned.
Aaron married a woman called Wendy Salmon – which always made his dad laugh, knowing he and Gemma had given their adored son good advice when they told him there were plenty more fish in the sea!
Wendy was a remarkable woman, a mental health nurse who knew enough about depression to help Aaron through the dark days, which were infrequent but still there, lurking like a trap door.
Mikey, over the years, managed to convince himself that losing Aaron had been a nightmare, the very worst kind of dream. It was how he made sense of it.
At least that’s what he said, and yet still I heard him, every night before he went to sleep, whispering, ‘Thank you, Chen, thank you.’
Goodness, will you look at the clock!
I really must be going.
I have people to visit.
Until the next time…
Chen