Page 85 of How Much Wine Will Fix My Broken Heart?
‘What would you wear?’ I say to the photo. ‘If I was the dead one?’ He’d lovingly dust off the velvet suit. I’d hope that under the jacket he’d be wearing a T-shirt with my face on. He would actively avoid black, that’s for sure.
How are you? Are you OK? One of us can come over and help if you want. I’d say all of us but if we all come round then that might be more trouble than it’s worth. I could come? Maybe Ems? Let us know.
Babes, Farah and I love you so much. Let us know if you need us xx
Grace, I am back in Bristol. Do you need me to pick anything up? What do I wear? X
Stupid question and sorry to disturb but is there parking at the school?
My messages are full of conversations like this, telling people just come along, dress casual, bring an umbrella as we’re outside, and don’t eat lunch because Joyce pressed the wrong button and we have five hundred sausage rolls coming instead of a hundred.
‘Mama, are you OK?’ Cleo says, peeking her head around the door. She’s dressed in a polka-dot shift with leggings. I marvel at how her hair never moves or changes shape and falls beautifully around her face. I usher her in the room and hold her close to me.
‘Mama, you’re dripping on me…’ she says, matter-of-factly.
I laugh, sitting back. ‘Sorry. I just can’t figure out what to wear. You look smart. I like this dress on you.’
‘It’s because it’s a shift. Shift styles suit every body type.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Aunty Emma.’
Of course she did. Cleo studies my eyes and puts a hand to my cheek. She has a wonderful habit of being able to read my thoughts, of knowing when she has to snap me out of them. She walks over to my wardrobe and runs a finger through my clothes, pulling out a Christmas jumper and some leggings.
‘Wear this.’
‘Or not?’
‘People said Uncle Tom was fun. He’d find this really funny.’
‘I could wear those antlers on my head too.’
She swings her head back and giggles.
‘Or you could wear your disco dress? I like the disco dress.’
The disco dress was an online sale purchase. I didn’t see the thumbnail properly and thought I was buying a lampshade. I’ve never quite had the heart to give it away as the girls like to wear it on occasion and have dance parties in the living room.
‘I could get Aunty Lucy to turn on her phone and you could shimmy. You could play that song you like to play for us… the ha-ha-ha-ha one.’
‘“Stayin’ Alive”?’
‘Yes.’
The irony is lost on her but it makes me chuckle uncontrollably. This could be a fitting way to eulogise Tom, through the power of disco.
‘Or what about this?’
It’s a grey jumpsuit. I used to dress in that thing all the time, my go-to outfit for dinner or drinks, the ultimate dress-down and dress-up outfit. Needless to say, I haven’t worn it in a while, looking at the dust that seems to have gathered on the shoulders. It’s because it was a Tom outfit. Let’s go grab a drink, on it went with a denim jacket and trainers, let’s go to dinner, let’s get out the statement earrings and a trusty ankle boot.
‘Grey goes with yellow. I think it would look nice,’ Cleo says sweetly.
‘I think you might be right.’
She looks excited she may have helped and jumps on the bed to join me again. I take in her face. She would have been two when her parents died and she never mentions them any more. Not with sadness at least. We talk about her memories of them, and Linh is good at providing stories. We try and piece together a vision of them so the girls can learn about their foundations. It’s not a fairy tale, it’s not a lie, it’s a story that led us both here, to this moment.You helped me learn to live, to love again. You will never underestimate how much I keep that close. Cleo stares at me, knowing I’m still deep in thought.
‘Do you want me to do your hair?’ she says, putting her hand to mine and raking her fingers through my knots. ‘I could put clips in it? And my glittery Alice band?’
