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‘Darling, you’re in shock.’ He looked at Flora, his eyes red-rimmed. ‘And you’re exhausted. Let’s get home and you can get some rest. I’ll talk to your father now, see if there’s anything more we can do before we go.’ Johnny kissed her hand and slipped out of the pew.
Flora slowly raised her head, her eyes drawn to the light streaming through the enormous stained-glass window at the front of the church, the sun lighting up the bright blues and deep reds from behind. She looked to the walls on either side, covered in plaques and memorials. Declarations of love and devotion to people she’d never know, their memories reduced to stone. This was how she felt, like stone. Suddenly, she wanted to sleep. To close her eyes, curl up on the seat and drift off to a place where Billy was still very much alive, waiting for her.
* * *
‘Darling, time to go.’ Kate gently placed a hand on Flora’s shoulder.
Flora opened her eyes, the smell of wood and polish and the sight of the flagstone floor signalling unfamiliar territory. She sat up, putting the heel of her hands to her eyes. ‘Oh, Mum…’
Kate looked at Flora. She went to say something, then closed her mouth again before standing up and walking towards the door through which they’d come in.
Flora looked around for Johnny, seeing him talking to her father just outside. She stood up and went slowly towards them.
Stepping out into the sunlight again felt like rejoining a world Flora wasn’t ready for.
‘Right, Flo. We’re going to head home. Your parents are, too. There’s nothing more we can do here for now, but your parents will let us know what… happens next.’ Johnny tried to make this sound normal, even though the words were anything but, and were the last thing Flora wanted to hear.
Her father appeared beside Johnny. ‘I think we all need to get some rest. We can get together again tomorrow.’ Robin gently kissed his daughter on the cheek.
‘Where’s Mum?’ Flora looked around for her.
‘She’s just gone ahead to the car. She said to say goodbye.’
‘We’ll come over first thing tomorrow, then?’ said Johnny.
‘Yes, do. Take care, you two.’ Robin hugged his daughter, then Johnny.
In the car on the way home, Flora lay with her cheek on the cold window. The journey they’d taken just hours earlier that day felt like a lifetime ago. How she wished she could go back to the day before. Perhaps if she’d really insisted on Billy coming to the party, he wouldn’t have gone on that work trip. Or if she’d called him when he was on the road he might have slowed down (she always told him off for driving too fast) and then he would have been just a few more cars behind. More thoughts flooded her head: ‘if only’, ‘I wish’, ‘why didn’t he…?’ She screwed her eyes up, willing the thoughts to stop. But still they kept coming.
‘You OK?’
‘I’m fine.’ She’d never been so far from fine in her life and yet this seemed like the easiest thing to say. She knew she should perhaps be asking questions about the accident, about who the other driver was, about what was going to happen to him. But the truth was she didn’t care. It seemed pointless knowing anything about it because it didn’t make any difference, as far as she was concerned. Most of all, saying next to nothing meant she didn’t have to say what she was really feeling, an emptiness so deep it terrified her.
* * *
The next few days passed in a fog. Flora spent much of it at her parents’ house, and together, round the table, they planned a small family-only funeral. The shock of losing Billy so suddenly had left them reeling, and organising this seemed, for all of them, the only thing that mattered. Music was chosen, Flora asked to read from one of their favourite childhood poems and Kate insisted on picking flowers from the garden for the small chapel. Johnny kept their whisky glasses topped up and took care of the children.
The day before the funeral, as they sat around the table, Robin brought up the subject of the police report after the accident.
‘Dad, I’m sorry but I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know his name, or anything about him.’ Flora put her hand up to stop him talking. ‘I don’t expect you to understand but, honestly, I don’t want anything about it in my head, at all.’
Kate looked at Robin. ‘It’s fine, darling,’ she said gently. ‘If she doesn’t want to know, that’s up to her. We can talk about it later.’
Silence fell again. Flora thought of Ruby. They’d never even met, but Billy had clearly been far fonder of her than he’d let on. ‘What about Ruby? How is she? Do we know?’ Flora felt terrible; she’d barely given her a thought until now.
Robin cleared his throat. ‘Well, obviously we’ve never met her but I told the police about her when we were at the hospital. They were going to get in touch and tell her what happened.’
‘Can I contact her? I want to see if she’s OK, let her know we’re thinking of her… or something.’ Flora thought of the poor girl, sure she would be in pieces, too.
‘Yes, of course. I asked the police to give her our contact details so she can reach us if she wants to. I thought it was better that way. I’m sure she’ll want to come to the memorial service. I’ll let you know when she gets in touch.’
The funeral was held at a small crematorium, a boxy, ugly building just outside the nearest town from Flora’s parents’ house. The rain hadn’t stopped all morning, but when they pulled up at the allotted time that afternoon, the clouds had lifted, replaced with a pale blue sky. Together with their local vicar, a man who’d known Billy all his life, they got through the short service as best they could. Flora squeezed Johnny’s hand throughout, feeling as if she was there in body only. It was the saddest day of her life.
Billy’s memorial service took place a few weeks later on a bright, sunny day. After the intense, sombre experience of the crematorium, this felt more like a celebration of his life, the church packed with Billy’s numerous friends. Songs were sung with gusto, the contributions of friends bringing ripples of laughter with some of the stories. The eulogy, read by Robin, brought both gentle laughter and silent tears to many in the assembled crowd. It was as if a surprise party was being thrown, only for the guest of honour not to show up.
At the drinks in the church hall afterwards, Flora greeted people with a smile. She listened whilst they told her their memories of Billy, how sorry they were for her loss, doing her best to make them feel at ease, knowing they in turn were doing their best to make her feel better. Flora had contacted Ruby just before the funeral, a tearful phone call she’d never forget. Ruby had said she didn’t feel it was right to come to the funeral but she did come to the memorial service with her parents. With her blond hair drawn off her pale face, Ruby clearly looked shattered by what had happened.
‘I’m so sorry.’ It was all Flora could think of to say.
