Page 62 of In Just One Day

‘Of course, you go. And don’t worry, I can pick up the kids.’ Johnny looked at Mack, who nodded back with a thumbs up.

‘Thank you. I’ll text you when I’m leaving.’

‘Drive carefully.’

Johnny put the phone down.

‘Is she all right?’ asked Mack, concerned.

‘It’s her parents. It’s not great news. They’re, well, separating.’

‘Oh, poor girl, I’m sure that’s the last thing she needs.’

‘I know. It’s so sad. They were always such a close family, but Billy’s death has really knocked them all sideways.’ Johnny shrugged, shaking his head. ‘Anyway, I’ll do the deliveries now, if that’s OK with you. Then I can get the children.’

‘Yes, of course. We’re good here. It’s not going to be busy today, looking at that weather.’ Outside, fat drops of rain splashed onto the pavement at the front of the shop.

‘We can go through the accounts list tomorrow. There are some new leads I need to follow up but could do with your help on wine suggestions to get them to agree to a tasting.’

‘Sounds good. Now go, or you’ll run out of time.’ He shooed Johnny away. ‘Go on.’

‘Thanks, Mack.’ Johnny drained his coffee cup. ‘Catch up later.’

* * *

Flora drove the familiar route away from the coast and across the gorse-covered heath towards the village not too far from her parents’ house. It was usually no more than half an hour’s journey but the rain had slowed everyone down. As she made the last few turns into the village and back out the other side towards the church, the rain eased. Flora got out of the car, gave the door a shove and paused to take in the view of the top of the river behind her, before turning and walking up the long path towards the church. Even though she’d seen that view countless times – so familiar and yet always changing with the seasons and the tides – it never failed to take her breath away. Best of all, there didn’t seem to be another soul around, just as she’d hoped.

She’d never really taken any notice of the headstones in the graveyard until Billy’s was one of them. Now, as she passed, she read each name, thinking of the stories behind them, the families they’d left behind. She turned off the path and headed across the grass towards the spot where a cremation headstone marked Billy’s grave. As she got closer, she looked ahead at the tree and the bench beneath it. Her heart sank. Someone was already sitting there.

All she’d wanted to do was sit there a while and tell Billy how furious she was with their parents. Now she couldn’t, at least not alone.

Flora walked across to the stone and laid down the small bunch of garish flowers she’d bought on the way. ‘I’m sorry, it’s all they had at the garage.’ She shrugged, speaking quietly.

She looked at his name, carved into the pale stone, the date of his birth and death painfully close together. She looked up at the sky, then back to the stone. ‘I know you’re not exactly here,’ she tapped her foot on the headstone, ‘but I know you’re here.’ She looked around. ‘And I really need to talk to you.’

Before she could stop them, tears began to roll down her cheeks. ‘Mum says she’s leaving Dad and, Billy, I feel terrible because I know he’s having an affair. And I don’t know if Mum does. I can’t say anything. Well, I could, but I’m worried that’ll make it worse, although I don’t know how it could get much worse.’ She wiped at her face. ‘God, Billy, I really wish you were here. I miss you so much.’

Suddenly conscious she’d been speaking out loud, she looked around. She could see the figure she’d spotted before, a woman sitting at the bench, wrapped in a thick black coat, a yellow scarf around her neck. Her grey hair was short, her cheeks pink with cold. Flora smiled.

The woman hesitated, then smiled briefly back. Then she stood and turned quickly, walking away towards the car park.

Why did she look familiar? Flora couldn’t place her but felt sure she’d seen her somewhere. Maybe she had seen her visiting the graveyard before? Flora looked back towards the stone in the ground. ‘Who was that?’ She looked around again, but the woman was gone.

27

‘Flo?’ Johnny called out as Flora came through the door.

‘Hi, how is everyone?’ She walked into the kitchen just as the children scraped the last bit of ice cream from their bowls. ‘On a Tuesday?’ She put her head to one side.

‘Hey, my tea, my rules. That’s all they’ve had: their body weight in ice cream.’

‘Johnny!’

‘I’m kidding. Sausages.’

‘Slightly burnt sausages,’ Pip laughed.

‘All right, no need to give me away.’ Johnny ruffled the top of his daughter’s hair. ‘So, everything OK?’