procession that seemed to take an eternity.
Tom’s arms were outstretched, his forearms bent upwards and his fingers clasped around the small coffin that contained his little girl. A single large daisy sat on top, her favourite flower. He walked slowly, wanting the moment to last for as long as possible, wanting to hold onto her and savour this contact for the last time ever. He knew that what was coming next should be delayed. Stalling, he tried to avoid the inevitable. He spoke to her in his head. ‘It’s all right, my darling, you go to sleep now, baby. Go to sleep now. I am right here, Chlo. Your daddy’s got you…’
Grace kept her eyes fixed on the angel.
As the car pulled up to the house, Grace let her gaze rove over the many vehicles that were parked on the verges, crowding the lane and filling the drive.
‘I don’t want to see anyone. I just want to go to bed,’ she murmured.
Tom nodded. This he understood. ‘I don’t think anyone will mind,’ he whispered as he rubbed at his stubble.
She stepped from the car and pushed the front door, which was ajar. Jayney was standing by the stairs, hovering. She rushed forward, crushing her friend to her in a hug. ‘Grace! Oh my God. I am so sorry. If there is anything I can do. Anything you need, anything at all, just shout.’ Jayney started to cry. ‘It’s the worst day in the world.’
Grace nodded. Every day is now the worst day in the world. Every single day. She spied one of their neighbours, a sweet lady who she was on nodding terms with. They used to wave enthusiastically as their cars passed and would exchange snippets about current and future weather when collecting their bins from the top of the lane on a Tuesday evening. The woman stepped forward and handed her a white envelope, then left. Grace turned it over in her hand. She noticed Ruthie across the floor, too tearful and emotional to speak. Grace looked from person to person, room to room and felt as though she were watching everything in slow motion. Kicking off her shoes, she gathered them into her hand and in her stockinged feet trod the stairs, caring little about the eyes and comments that followed her stumbling progress to her room.
Closing the bedroom door behind her, she shrugged off her jacket and unzipped her skirt, letting them both fall to the floor where she stood. She unbuttoned her shirt, pulled on her nightshirt and pyjama bottoms and crawled under the duvet. Closing her eyes, she welcomed the escape that the soft space offered.
There was a knock on the door as it opened. Olive came in with a cup of tea. ‘Here you are, darling, thought you might like a drink.’ She placed it on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed. Her weight pushed the mattress down and Grace listed towards her. Olive’s words were delivered slowly in barely more than a whisper. ‘I can’t tell you that it will get better, because I’m not sure it does and I have never lied to you, Gracie, but I can tell you that you are a strong woman who will find a way through this. God will—’
‘Don’t you mention God to me,’ Gracie snapped. ‘Don’t you dare! There is no God!’
‘Darling, don’t—’ Olive began.
‘I mean it. There isn’t. What kind of God gives a germ to a baby girl who didn’t stand a chance?’
‘I don’t know how to answer that.’ Olive knotted her fingers in her lap and swallowed her tears.
‘Well, I don’t know either.’
They sat in silence for some minutes, both trying to erase the image of the little girl’s coffin being lowered into the soil on that sun-bright winter’s day.
‘I promised her it would all be okay. I told her we’d get ice cream and that she could watch Frozen . That’s what I told her. And she was hungry, Mum…’ Grace’s face crumpled as, open-mouthed, her tears flowed again. ‘She was hungry and I didn’t give her any breakfast and she was hungry and I ate a bun. I ate a bun and laughed while she was lying
Tom’s arms were outstretched, his forearms bent upwards and his fingers clasped around the small coffin that contained his little girl. A single large daisy sat on top, her favourite flower. He walked slowly, wanting the moment to last for as long as possible, wanting to hold onto her and savour this contact for the last time ever. He knew that what was coming next should be delayed. Stalling, he tried to avoid the inevitable. He spoke to her in his head. ‘It’s all right, my darling, you go to sleep now, baby. Go to sleep now. I am right here, Chlo. Your daddy’s got you…’
Grace kept her eyes fixed on the angel.
As the car pulled up to the house, Grace let her gaze rove over the many vehicles that were parked on the verges, crowding the lane and filling the drive.
‘I don’t want to see anyone. I just want to go to bed,’ she murmured.
Tom nodded. This he understood. ‘I don’t think anyone will mind,’ he whispered as he rubbed at his stubble.
She stepped from the car and pushed the front door, which was ajar. Jayney was standing by the stairs, hovering. She rushed forward, crushing her friend to her in a hug. ‘Grace! Oh my God. I am so sorry. If there is anything I can do. Anything you need, anything at all, just shout.’ Jayney started to cry. ‘It’s the worst day in the world.’
Grace nodded. Every day is now the worst day in the world. Every single day. She spied one of their neighbours, a sweet lady who she was on nodding terms with. They used to wave enthusiastically as their cars passed and would exchange snippets about current and future weather when collecting their bins from the top of the lane on a Tuesday evening. The woman stepped forward and handed her a white envelope, then left. Grace turned it over in her hand. She noticed Ruthie across the floor, too tearful and emotional to speak. Grace looked from person to person, room to room and felt as though she were watching everything in slow motion. Kicking off her shoes, she gathered them into her hand and in her stockinged feet trod the stairs, caring little about the eyes and comments that followed her stumbling progress to her room.
Closing the bedroom door behind her, she shrugged off her jacket and unzipped her skirt, letting them both fall to the floor where she stood. She unbuttoned her shirt, pulled on her nightshirt and pyjama bottoms and crawled under the duvet. Closing her eyes, she welcomed the escape that the soft space offered.
There was a knock on the door as it opened. Olive came in with a cup of tea. ‘Here you are, darling, thought you might like a drink.’ She placed it on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed. Her weight pushed the mattress down and Grace listed towards her. Olive’s words were delivered slowly in barely more than a whisper. ‘I can’t tell you that it will get better, because I’m not sure it does and I have never lied to you, Gracie, but I can tell you that you are a strong woman who will find a way through this. God will—’
‘Don’t you mention God to me,’ Gracie snapped. ‘Don’t you dare! There is no God!’
‘Darling, don’t—’ Olive began.
‘I mean it. There isn’t. What kind of God gives a germ to a baby girl who didn’t stand a chance?’
‘I don’t know how to answer that.’ Olive knotted her fingers in her lap and swallowed her tears.
‘Well, I don’t know either.’
They sat in silence for some minutes, both trying to erase the image of the little girl’s coffin being lowered into the soil on that sun-bright winter’s day.
‘I promised her it would all be okay. I told her we’d get ice cream and that she could watch Frozen . That’s what I told her. And she was hungry, Mum…’ Grace’s face crumpled as, open-mouthed, her tears flowed again. ‘She was hungry and I didn’t give her any breakfast and she was hungry and I ate a bun. I ate a bun and laughed while she was lying
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