Page 39 of The Art of Loving You

My heart sank. ‘I forgot we’d arranged appointments for tradesmen to have a look around and give us quotes.’

‘Well he looks classy,’ Alice said of the man who was kicking gravel with the toe of his DM. He wore faded ripped jeans and a too-small black T-shirt which showed the podge of his hairy belly. She raised her eyebrows as she read the side of the van. Someone had written ‘I wish my wife was this dirty’ into the grime.

‘I can’t deal with this.’ It was too much. Too soon.

‘I’ll speak to him,’ Alice said as we climbed out of the car. ‘So sorry,’ she called over. ‘We don’t need any quotes right now after all.’

‘What the fuck?’ He glowered.

‘Please don’t swear at me—’

‘I’ve driven nearly an hour to find this place. I’ve plenty of other customers I could be with—’

‘If you’d listen—’

‘I’m going to bill you for my time.’

‘Don’t you dare try billing my sister.’ Alice placed her hands on her hips. ‘She’s had some terrible news and—’

‘I’ll give you some more shall I? If you don’t fix that roof, next time it rains it’ll be pissing down indoors.’

I scanned the tiles. Was he right? They did look patchy but they could have been like that before. I hadn’t paid that much attention.

‘I can start today. Now,’ he said.

‘I thought you had plenty of other customers?’ Alice said. ‘What part of “no” don’t you understand? We’re not in a position right now—’

‘The only position you’ll be in is with your arm above your head while you hold an umbrella as you watch the telly.’ He strode back to his vehicle. ‘If you don’t get it fixed pretty pronto you’ll have bigger problems further down the line.’

‘Dick!’ Alice muttered as he screeched down the driveway.

‘Is he right?’ I asked. ‘Could the storm last night have dislodged some tiles?’

‘I don’t know. Don’t worry,’ she said, but it was impossible not to. If I took that worry and stacked it with all my others I’d have enough to build a wall, a house, a city.

A new roof at the very least.

Another smaller van pulled up, this time with ‘Electrician’ plastered across the side.

‘Go inside.’ Alice patted my arm. ‘I’ll deal with them all.’

And she did.

Funeral day dawned dank and dismal. Thunderous clouds squatted over the house lashing rain against the windows, obscuring my view to the world which still turned, turned, turned for some people. Not for me. This next chapter in mine and Jack’s life was incomplete. My life was on pause; I’d been so focused on today, I hadn’t really thought about the after.

I wasn’t ready.

I just wasn’t.

For a few seconds I toyed with the idea of running away and there was one rash moment when my legs were ready to carry me far from here. Instead, my trembling hands pulled my black shift dress from the hanger. It used to fit snuggly but now it zipped up easily, hanging loose at the waist. My stomach was a clenched fist of regret that our story would remain half told as I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, trying to find myself in my own reflection. My heart skipped a beat as I caught a glimpse of Jack behind me. It was so real I turned around.

I was alone.

Turning back to the mirror I ran a light fingertip across the glass, willing his face to appear.

It didn’t, of course.

I needed to hold it together today.

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