Page 16 of My Kind of Happy

‘Don’t care.’ She dipped the edge of the biscuit into the hot tea and closed her eyes with pleasure as she bit into it. ‘It’s you I’m concerned about. Still watching films of other people having adventures, are you?’

The night before her accident, I’d called around with provisions and showed her the DVD I’d bought about a woman who sets off on a dangerous journey to find herself.

‘I wish I’d never told you about that. Besides, I can’t swan off having adventures now, can I?’ I said playfully. ‘I’m busy looking after your dog.’

Ethel’s face fell. ‘If you don’t want to have him any more then just say the word, I’ll make other arrangements.’

‘No way!’ The thought horrified me. ‘I love having him.’

A shadow passed briefly across her face before she turned it into a smile of relief.

‘That’s a nice thing to hear, you are a kind girl.’ She squeezed my fingers, slid her hand from mine and picked up another biscuit. ‘Now that’s enough about me, I want to hear what you’ve been up to. You look thinner.’

‘And you look plumper,’ I replied, watching the biscuit descend into Ethel’s tea. ‘I can’t think why.’

‘I’m ninety-four,’ she said briskly. ‘If I want to stuff my face I shall. You should see some of the old dears in there.’ She jerked her head towards the day room. I bit back a laugh, wondering how many of the residents were older than Ethel. ‘Like skeletons, they are. I eat like a horse these days. The dinners might be a bit on the mushy side but it beats having to cook for yourself.’ Her smile faded. ‘Cooking for one gets a bit boring.’

‘It does.’ I nodded as my chest tightened with recognition.

Freddie and I had shared the cooking; either chatting over our day together in the kitchen or taking it in turns when one of us was going to be late in. And there had always been a dish of something leftover in the fridge or extra portions stuck in the freezer. Recently, I’d become over-reliant on ready meals or something to simply fill me up like cheese on toast. It wasn’t good enough, I thought. It was time to take myself in hand.

‘Fearne.’ Ethel’s voice was hesitant. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if The Beeches was the last stop on my life’s journey.’

‘Rubbish,’ I protested. ‘A few more weeks to gather your strength and you’ll be back in Pineapple Road.’

‘And if it is, I won’t be sorry,’ she continued. ‘And I don’t want you to be sad either. I’ve no regrets, there’s nothing left on my to-do list. Really there isn’t.’

I felt my eyes grow hot with the effort of holding back tears. ‘I’m glad. And you are an inspiration. There’s plenty left on my to-do list.’

‘Good!’ Ethel cried, waking Scamp up from his nap. ‘That’s as it should be! I’ve been waiting for this. So go on, tell me, what adventures does the future hold?’

‘Not sure yet.’ I pulled a face. ‘I spent most of last night asking myself the same question.’

‘Oh, my dear.’ She nodded wisely. ‘I knew there was something on your mind. Come on, spit it out.’

I don’t know who was more surprised, her or me when I did just that. She sat as quiet as a mouse while I told her about the fiasco at the spa, and then about my boss’s ultimatum. She gasped in surprise when I told her Hamish and Laura were now an item and how hard that was to deal with. And finally I shared the unexpected pearls of wisdom I’d found in Freddie’s letter to me and how much his words had affected me.

‘The things Freddie wrote,’ I began, ‘it made me realise something. He set out at twenty-two to focus on doing the things he loved and he succeeded. Freddie’s life might have been short, but he loved every second of it. I don’t think if he had his time again, that he’d do anything different.’

Ethel smiled softly. ‘And there’s comfort to be had from that, dear.’

‘I am comforted. But …’ I groaned. ‘I still can’t accept his death. I can’t move on. The crystal healing lady was right. I’ve forgotten how to be happy. Now I’m moody and antisocial, I pushed my boyfriend away and I’m even in danger of losing my best friend. I used to be such a happy, sunny person. Good at my job. And I was actually nice to people. But that Fearne has gone.’

‘You are still all of those things,’ Ethel said, brushing biscuit crumbs from the front of her dress. ‘And that’s the most you’ve ever said to me about your grief, take heart from that small step. I saw the spark in your eyes dim when you lost your brother. In my long life, it has happened to me many a time when I’ve lost people I’ve loved. But the good news is that the spark doesn’t go forever. And grief isn’t a bad thing.’

I looked at her surprised. ‘Isn’t it?’

‘Oh no, not at all,’ she exclaimed, her voice as warm as sunshine. ‘Grief is … well, it’s just love with nowhere to go.’

Love with nowhere to go.

I nodded slowly, taking in her words. ‘That’s a wonderful way of putting it.’

‘Grief never truly leaves you, it changes you. And at the moment I think you are stuck in a rut. Find that love somewhere to go: put it into new places, new adventures and let new people into your life and into your heart.’

Freddie had asked me in his letter to promise that I’d choose happiness over habit. He’d be all in favour of Ethel’s advice.

‘But what do I do?’ I murmured. ‘Where do I start?’