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Every single hair stood on end waiting for something to go wrong. In a semi-conscious state, Elda gotinto the car. She stared at the coffin through the windscreen. The sight of it dug at something inside her, and she held in her sobs with her hand.
A few minutes later, they approached the familiar church. This building had punctuated every big moment in Elda’s life. It was the source of life and death. There was a collection of slight figures, hunched and cloaked in black coats.
“They look like a Lowry painting,” she said to no one in particular.
A smile flickered at Charlie’s lips.
“This is Father Andrew.” Elda nodded towards the tall priest waiting to receive them into the church. “He’s a good guy.”
They filled just two benches in the cold, empty building.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Elda.” A kind old lady took Elda’s hands. “Nancy devoted herself to you and your mother.”
That was the sad truth. She’d given her life for them both, sacrificing friendship, maybe even love, for the sake of their safety. There was much crossing and kneeling. Elda opened her mouth to sing, but nothing came out. Charlie gripped her shoulders, and she leaned against her.
When it was over, they drove to a nearby cemetery, and her nan was laid to rest. The sun was shining on her and warming the ground. Tears soaked Elda’s collar, and she fought to keep her frame from shaking.
She turned away from the open grave, and Jack approached. “How’re you doing, Elderflower?”
“Thank you for coming.” She knew that was what she should say to people.
“I know you must miss her so much; she was everything.” Jack wiped his eyes. “She was the kindest person I ever knew.”
They walked a few paces to the shade beneath an oak tree.
“It’ll take some time to figure all of this out,” Jack said.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“We’ll work it out. Be careful with your mum. Don’t let her take your life too.”
Elda looked up at Jack. His face was serious, and she could see new frown lines. She trusted him. He’d been by her side through good times and bad. She thought that Charlie would be there for her but doubted whether she’d ever come before work or someone else’s problems. Her gut wrenched at the question, but it had been churning for the last few days, and she’d been powerless to stop it. Was Jack the only person she could rely on?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Charlie stood for a few moments at the door, shuffling from side to side. The name on the intercom was fading, but still there. A.J. Hartwheel. She’d always thought it was a made-up name. When she went through the door, it was like entering a fantasy world where she could be someone else for an hour. She pressed the button and noticed her skin peeling at the side of her short nail, betraying her anxieties.
Her boots clicked across the tiled floor, and she slowed down. She wasn’t ready to face her old therapist yet. She raised her phone’s camera screen to her face and examined the dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her lips were turned down, so she plucked at her cheeks and tried to make a smile. The face looking back was drained of blood and had a yellow and grey hue.
Charlie made her way to the familiar office, following the smell of aromatherapy oils floating through the air.
“Charlotte, it’s good to see you.” A.J. stood and held out her arms.
“Thank you for seeing me at such short notice.” Charlie exhaled. This was a safe space.
“Of course. My door is always open to you.”
The lamp on the side table was on despite it being light outside, and two sofas sat at either end of the room. Cushions were scattered on each, and as Charlie reached behind to adjust them, she remembered how they were too soft and offered no support. It was typical of a place that was supposed to make you at ease to be so uncomfortable. She sat opposite A.J. and sank further into the sofa to reach the floor with her toes.
“It’s been a while. How are you today?”
A.J. was old enough to be Charlie’s mum. She had a short bob, dyed brown with grey at the roots. Her round face was soft, creased,and kind.
Charlie’s throat closed.
“It’s okay. Take your time.” A.J. held still. “Let’s start with today. What’s brought you here?”
They knew each other well enough for this opening number not to last too long. But it had been more than two years since Charlie had seen her therapist, and she was out of practice.
