Page 46 of Will You Stay Another Day?
‘I don’t want to cheer up. I’m suffering,’ she said dramatically.
Bobbin ignored her, did another jig and then started eating. Oh to lead the simple life of a garden bird. Yet they still faced predators. Still lost loved ones. Bobbin flew away and she brushed her hands together.
Scones baked, lounge set up, lunch eaten, make-up applied to hide dark under-eye bags, Lili glanced at the clock. It was almost two. Within the last six hours she’d deleted four texts unread. If Dylan tried to contact her again she would block his number. The doorbell rang and she walked into the hallway, followed by the smell of incense and the sound of soft instrumental music.
‘Hello, Elaine, come on in.’ Lili held out her hand and the woman put her rucksack on the floor and took off her anorak. She looked sprightly for a woman in her late seventies. Lili had met her once before and had also seen her walking around the harbour. She wore joggers and a sweat top. Elaine took off her trainers. Her short pure-white hair was brushed back.
‘Forgive me, I’m not very smart. I’ve come straight from lunch with the girls. We went swimming this morning.’
‘You look great. If you can face more water, can I get you a glass? I’ve baked scones for afterwards.’
‘Daff, one of my swimming pals, told me that’s what happened. You… you didn’t tell Meg I was coming, did you?’
‘I’m a woman of my word,’ said Lili.
Meg’s gran followed Lili into the lounge and sat on the sofa. She put her empty glass on the floor. ‘I don’t like keeping things from my granddaughter but I think, in this case, it’s best. Right.’ She exhaled. ‘I’m ready to get on with it.’
‘Would you like to stand up?’
Elaine nodded and went over to the window, rucksack on her shoulder. Lili hadn’t been able to meet her in person first to discuss the process, as this was late notice. But they’d had a video call on her day off, when Meg was in work. Lili had pushed a little, checking Elaine was really ready to let go of her object.
‘Thanks for fitting me in. It’s felt pressing, what I have to do. Meg has been so down this last week. Have you noticed?’
‘I can’t discuss Meg with you,’ Lili said gently.
A sheepish look appeared on Elaine’s face. ‘Of course, I understand. That’s why you are such a good friend to her. Loyal. Supportive. She’s lucky to have you as her boss as well.’
‘Thank you. And anyone can see how much she loves you.’
Elaine stood by the window. ‘I love her with all my heart. That’s why I had to come today.’ She let the rucksack slide to the floor, opened it and took out a doll. It was made from plastic and dressed in a faded yellow smock dress, with black shoes, a little scratched, and shiny blonde hair tied into bunches, threadbare in places.
‘My daughter loved this. We got it for her third birthday. I passed it on to Meg. She loved it as much as her mum had.’ Elaine ran a hand over one of the pigtails. ‘My daughter named her Tinker Bell and would pretend she could fly through the air. She always was chasing the impossible. Whereas Meg simply called her Annie and would beg me to make more clothes for her. I used to cut up items I was going to give to the charity shop.’
Lili gave Meg’s gran an encouraging nod.
Elaine cradled the doll in her arms and looked directly at the pale face. ‘You hold so many happy memories. Of my Lucy, before the drugs got her – she was the sweetest thing at primary school and used to make me and her granddad breakfast in bed. We loved our Lucy so much we’d happily drink down the fizzy cola and eat the thick Bovril on bread, at six in the morning. Then you…’ she nodded at the doll ‘…you belonged to Meg. She’d read you books and make up stories about animals that wore clothes.’ Elaine took a moment. A tear trickled down her cheek. ‘But those two girls are grown up now. One I never see and the other I see all the time. Both of those things cut deep into my emotions and you represent those feelings.’ Elaine hugged the doll to her chest and cried quietly for a moment. Lili passed her the box of tissues. Elaine pulled one out and dabbed her eyes.
‘This is no good,’ she said and stood up straighter. ‘I’ve a job to do here and scones are waiting.’ Elaine stared at the doll again. ‘You bring me treasured memories from the best times of my life, but I have to let go now. By saying goodbye to you, I’m freeing myself of two things. Firstly, the hope that Lucy will ever come back. I’ve known for a long time she won’t but the prospect of Meg moving out has made me realise that even healthy, loving family members leave eventually. And secondly… I need to free myself from the selfish hope Meg will change her mind and always live with me.’ A tear ran down her cheek again and she wiped it away.
‘You’re doing brilliantly,’ said Lili quietly. ‘Do you want to sit down for a minute?’
Elaine shook her head. ‘No. I need to get this done. For my sake. For Meg’s too. You see, what’s brought me here today,’ she said, talking to Lili now, ‘is Meg’s upset this last week, after that latest renting opportunity fell through. She tried to hide it but her eyes were blotchy for several days. It’s time for me to put my own feelings aside and help her look for her own place, to help her financially if she’ll let me. Meg has her own life to lead, just like I have done. I left home at eighteen and got married the next year. I know Mum missed me but she never once complained.’ Elaine turned back to the doll. ‘Thank you, thank you, Tinker Bell, Annie. You’ve been a wonderful addition to my family and meant so much to our two little girls. I hope you understand why you can’t live with me any more. I… I love you too. Beautiful, smiling, you were always there for Lucy and Meg. Often I’d go in to wake them up in the morning and you’d be in their arms.’ Elaine kissed the doll on one cheek.
‘Would you like a photo?’ asked Lili.
Elaine nodded. Lili sat the doll on the coffee table, next to the incense, and took a shot, passing the photo to Elaine. Then Lili sat the doll on the windowsill.
Elaine stayed for another hour. They ate scones, talked about swimming and chatted about the charity shop, laughing about how Meg should credit her gran for any career to do with clothes, due to Elaine making clothes for the doll all those years ago.
‘Thanks, Lili. Daff was right. I feel so much better. And I… I’m sorry about your friend, Em. It sounds like you’ve coped brilliantly. Loss affects us all in different ways. One of my friends used to swear she’d seen her husband often walking in the village for the first year after his death, and admits she still thinks that occasionally now. Yet take my Lucy, even though she’s alive I’ve finally accepted that I’ll never see her again.’
The women hugged and Lili saw her out before tidying up in the lounge and putting the doll in the cupboard under the stairs. Another text arrived from Dylan and she was about to block his number when the doorbell rang.
Elaine must have forgotten something. Lili hurried into the hallway and pulled open the door.
Tired face. A huge bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates in his hands.
‘Dad?’ said Lili, taken aback, winded, happy, and unable to stop herself from falling into his arms crying.
