The Day She Came Back(14)

‘Oh, Victoria!’ He attempted a tight-lipped smile, in defiance of the sadness that misted his eyes. ‘How are you?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. I feel like the world is spinning.’

He looked at her knowingly. ‘I don’t want to keep you or intrude, but I heard the terrible news from Joan at the Over Sixties Club. And then I saw I had a missed call from you and heard your message. I guess that’s why you were calling?’

She nodded.

‘I can’t believe it.’ He paused. ‘I just wanted to come and say . . .’ He paused, and his sadness was hard to witness. ‘That the world – my world certainly – is less bright today, less fun.’

‘Thank you, Gerald.’ She barely knew what to say, but understood completely, as her world too was going to be less bright, quieter.

‘I got a card.’ He handed her a small, pale blue envelope. ‘None of them were appropriate, they were all maudlin and embossed in gold; Prim would have hated them all. I settled on a scene of the Lake District, which was left blank for my own message – I thought it was the least worst.’

‘Thank you,’ she repeated.

Daksha looked on. ‘Would you like a cup of tea or something, Gerald?’

‘No, no dear.’ He shook his head and raised his hand. ‘I need to get on, and I am sure you two need nothing less than visitors right now.’

Victoria did nothing to correct him, watching as he made for the door.

‘I am so very sad. I was extremely fond of her.’ He spoke over his shoulder.

‘I know she was very fond of you too.’ Victoria wasn’t sure if it was her place to speak this way to the older man but thought it important to say so. She felt his beaming smile more than justified her forwardness.

He closed his eyes briefly. ‘She made me laugh, always coming up with some rather bonkers scheme or idea; I never knew what she was going to suggest next,’ he smiled.

‘Like your zip-wire trip?’ she remembered.

‘Like our zip-wire trip,’ he confirmed. ‘Not that we would have actually done it, but part of the fun was talking about zip wires or shark diving in South Africa or going to a full-moon party in Thailand – those discussions kept us young! We lived the adventures through our chat and I shall miss them very, very much.’ He bowed his head.

‘See you soon, Gerald. And thank you.’ She held the envelope to her chest, knowing that she too was going to miss Prim’s wonderful ability to plant a picture in her mind, whilst encouraging her to go and see the world!

‘Let me know if there is anything I can do, and when the funeral is, of course.’ He spoke matter-of-factly as he left. His words were like bolts, fired casually yet pinning her to the reality of the situation.

A funeral! I have to organise a funeral! And not just any funeral, but Prim’s . . . I need to call her solicitor too. Who is it? I know she told me . . . I don’t know what to do, as the person I would usually ask for the details is Prim . . .

‘I need to organise the funeral. Can you help me?’

Daksha squeezed her arm. ‘Of course I will. Don’t worry about that right now. Would you like a cup of—’

‘Don’t. Even.’ Victoria held up her hand, cutting her off mid-question.

In the rather grand drawing room she sat back on the pale green dupioni-covered sofa, pulling the pink, cobweb-wool blanket from the arm and placing it over her legs. She thought of all the incredible and extraordinary things that Gerald would miss about Prim, but for her it was quite the opposite: she was already missing the very ordinary things. The bustle as she dusted, her scent lingering in the hallway and the sound of her warbling alto shattering the peace of any day. This recollection alone was enough to invite a fresh batch of hot tears.

Having wiped her fingers down the front of her dressing gown, she peeled the sticky flap of the envelope, pulled out the rather dull card and read:

Victoria,

What a rotten gap there now is in the world.

Gerald

It made her smile, the utterly perfect summary of the situation. Victoria read it twice before letting out an almost primal yell. She wasn’t fully aware of how loudly she had shouted, but Daksha came running in.

‘What’s the matter? Are you okay?’ She dropped to the floor at the side of the sofa and placed her hands on Victoria’s knees.

‘I can’t stand it! I miss her, Daks! I need her here. I don’t have anyone else. I’m all on my own!’

‘I know. I know.’ Her friend patted her back and kissed her head. ‘It will get easier, I promise.’

‘I have never done anything without her; she has been there every day of my life when I wake up and when I go to sleep, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without her!’

‘You’ve got me. And right now you should come to the kitchen. I am eating all the ice cream.’

Victoria managed a small laugh, grateful as ever for the presence of her friend.

‘I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the thought of not seeing her again.’ She howled again, until her voice fell silent. ‘Sorry, Daks, not quite sure where that came from.’

‘It’s good to let it out.’

Victoria laughed a little at the banality of her condolence. ‘Will you come to see the solicitor with me and help me organise the funeral?’