Page 19 of Will You Stay Another Day?
Lili stared at the tissue.
Hi Mario. Wahoo! It’s-a-me, Lili! Thanks for a fun evening. Bye Bye! x
No. Stupid, stupid, basing a message on a video game! And what was with the kiss? She hardly knew him – although Dylan had known just what she liked, as if they’d been together her whole life. She stuffed the tissue into her pocket and took out another.
Hi Dylan. Thanks for an enjoyable time. Look after yourself. Lili.
Gah! That sounded as if they’d spent the night playing Scrabble. Why did she care? It was a goodbye note, after… the best sex she’d ever had.
Lili gritted her teeth. Come on, get on with it.
Good to meet you, Dylan. Take care.
She left the tissue on the pillow next to his and put one of the autumn leaves she’d brought next to it, a beautiful orange field maple one. Then she packed up everything, crept out of the room and closed the door behind her.
12
Lili sat in the back garden, a throw around her shoulders. The sun shone and warmed her cheeks, even though the air was crisp with a chill that had set in the last couple of days and now embraced the first of November. She sipped her coffee and a smile spread across her lips at the memory of Dylan with those gummy vampire fangs in his mouth, last night.
Bobbin appeared on the garden table next to her and tilted its little head.
‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ said Lili, and she put down her coffee. Bobbin hopped a few steps nearer, no doubt recognising the special Tupperware bowl that was full of its favourites. Now and then Lili made up the bird food herself. She’d never been able to face feeding her garden friend mealworms, instead offering a mix of chopped peanuts, raisins, suet and a little cheese. Lili poured some into her hand and stretched out her arm. Bobbin hopped over and two small feet landed in her palm. Lili’s heart lifted as Bobbin began to sing. The bird had only done that once before, so close to her. A robin’s song was utterly joyous, a melodic, rapid tune built up of cheerful whistles and perfect high notes. It soothed the crushing realisation that had set in, that Em was gone for good. There would be no reunion. Lili focused on the bird’s beautiful red feathers and how they matched autumn leaves on the ground. Small details that cheered the soul.
‘You’re so clever,’ she said as Bobbin pecked at a raisin. ‘Whenever I sing, I sound as if I’ve been eating toothpicks… Dylan had really nice teeth.’
The bird stopped dead and stared into her face. Lili couldn’t help laughing.
‘I know… One night only with Mr Cool. Sounds like a West End show, doesn’t it? And between us… my God, it was right up there with any blockbuster. He was totally my type. I’ll tell you all the important deets I’d have shared with Em, because you’re as good as she was at keeping secrets.’
Bobbin waited patiently.
‘When I think about last night, even now, hours later, a zing runs through my entire body. Everything was so easy – the talk, the laughs, his moves, mine. That’s why I absolutely can’t see him again…’ Bobbin accidentally pecked her hand. Or was the robin trying to tell her something? Em’s voice came into Lili’s head. For God’s sake, stop being so uptight! Go for it! Sweet and sexy – that’s a killer combination!
No. Lili didn’t need a man in her life, especially at the moment.
‘He works in house clearance,’ she continued. ‘And his attitude to clearing clutter couldn’t be more different to mine. But then Japan changed me; it’s why I set up my freedom ceremonies.’
Bobbin leant forwards.
‘Okay. I’ll tell you. But don’t laugh like most people do when I explain. You see, Em and I loved Japan – the gentle manner of its people, the ornate traditional buildings contrasting super-modern ones, the cuteness overload in shops regarding clothes, plushies, food; oh, and the cherry blossom! Everything! We rented a little house for a few days in Kyoto and the woman who owned it told us how a nearby temple… well, it held funerals for inanimate objects.’
Bobbin squawked and Lili chuckled. ‘I know, right? It sounds bonkers.’
At first this idea had struck Lili and Em as utterly ridiculous. But the landlady had explained about Shintoism, a belief that everything has a spirit, even things made of metal or plastic.
‘I researched and discovered ceremonies held in Japan for dolls and gaming machines about to be discarded, can you believe? When we moved to Cornwall and I carried on working in a charity shop, the idea of such funerals began to make sense. Although the ceremonies in Japan are about gratitude and appreciation, whereas I had an idea that resonated deeper with me, that would address an issue I’d seen through my work and?—’
Was that a stare of disbelief from Bobbin? Lili almost chuckled again. No. Surely not. ‘I know, it’s hard to get your head around. Let’s just say, sometimes it’s not as easy as we think to throw away old objects. One day, a customer broke down. I took him out the back, made tea and listened to why he felt so conflicted about donating the vase he was clutching.’ Lili’s eyes crinkled. ‘It was Em who finally pushed me into turning my ambition into a reality. She told me to stop messing around and follow my heart; to plan out my Sunday afternoons, to create my own style of funerals, and help people move on from their past.’
Lili sighed. I miss that straight-talking. Miss Em so much. Her phone bleeped and carefully she moved her arm to the table. Bobbin hopped off and she emptied the contents of her hand into a pile next to the bird. It dived into the cheese – cheddar always went down well.
‘Bye bye, Bobbin, see you later.’ Lili pulled the throw tighter as she made her way through the cottage. She dropped onto the sofa and looked at the message.
A punch to the stomach. Em’s old number had sent a message.
And breathe. No. It wasn’t Em’s number any more. Lili clicked into Dylan’s text to see a photo of her sock, followed by a vampire emoji. She burst out laughing.
Laughter was a precious commodity. Em had always laughed a lot, at least until the split with Sean. She lifted people, like a shot of coffee, sweet and syrupy but with an edge. Cheeky banter was her currency and she spent it often. In between her friend’s death and the funeral, Lili had taken time off work and laid in bed staring at the ceiling, missing the sound of Em’s giggle, the cheeky one-liners, the witty comebacks. Lili had texted her mum and dad saying to only come down to Cornwall for the service; that she was coping okay. But Meg and Tommo called round one day and saw the aftermath of Em’s death. They didn’t fuss; didn’t ask too many questions, just tidied up and made mugs of tea. But from that point on, they took it in turns to drop off food. She’d even been grateful for Tommo’s blow-your-socks-off curry. And over time she’d picked up the reins of her life again, a life that had begun to trot along nicely again, with working hard, with no meaningful romantic commitments. They said grief changed you, but Em wouldn’t have wanted that.
