Undertaking Love Page 0,84
half expected her to be on his doorstep at 6.00 a.m. in a mac and trilby.
As the clock inched slowly towards half past, Gabe stopped looking out for her and started to worry instead. Had something happened to her on the way here? Dora and Ivan’s cottage was barely a five-minute skip and hop away from the High Street, but still …
He locked the front door and set off at a jog.
The lounge curtains of Dora’s cottage were still closed when he arrived. Gabe sagged with relief. She’d just overslept. Lord knows the woman was entitled to at her age. He leant on the gate for a second to get his puff back; he’d gathered pace into a panicky sprint as he’d neared the cottage.
He glanced up again, and it struck him that although the lounge curtains were closed, the bedroom ones had been opened.
Maybe she had got up, after all.
He nipped up the path and let himself in through the unlocked side gate. Dora would no doubt be in the kitchen in a flap because she was running late.
He’d just let her know that there was no need to rush anymore.
A quick glance through the kitchen window showed it to be empty, but the kettle on the lit gas stove was screaming for attention. Gabe tried the door and found it open, so stepped inside and flicked off the shrill noise.
‘Dora?’
He called out just loud enough to be heard, but not so loud that he’d startle her.
Silence answered him, and the ball of unease returned tenfold to his gut.
‘Dora?’
He tried again. A little louder, a little more urgent.
Still no answer.
He went through into the hallway, not certain of the unfamiliar layout of the quiet cottage. He stuck his head around the first of the two doorways, and found a small, neat-as-a-pin dining room, but no Dora.
He moved along and stepped just inside the doorway of the little front room.
To the untrained eye, Dora might have been sleeping in her cheery yellow chintz armchair.
But Gabe knew different.
He crossed the room and dropped down on his haunches in front of her, then reached out and held her cool hands for a few moments.
Dora wasn’t snoozing.
She had died.
Chapter Thirty-Six
‘Would you drop these over to the funeral parlour please, Em?’
Emily took the little blue jewel box and the garment bag that Marla held out and peered through the plastic at the primrose-yellow material.
‘What is it?’
Marla smoothed back the plastic to show Emily the dress inside.
‘It was Dora’s. Ivan brought it down when I went to see him last night. Her mum made it for her in the war.’
Tears sprang into Emily’s eyes as she touched the delicate silk of the skirt.
‘Oh.’
Emily nodded sadly and smoothed the cover carefully back over the dress.
‘I know what's in here,’ Emily said, stroking her thumb over the worn velvet of the jewel box. ‘It's her brooch, isn't it?’
Marla smiled gently. ‘Of course. It seems strange to see it without her.’
Emily eased the lid open on the jewel box, and they both sighed as a little diamond lighthouse glinted up at them. It was such an integral part of their memories of Dora. She'd worn it every day, whether she was dressed in her Sunday best or in her pinny to scrub the chapel floor.
Marla squeezed her friend’s arm. ‘Ivan thought Dora would have liked to have these with her. In her … well, you know.’
Marla tried, but the word coffin wouldn’t come out.
Emily nodded quickly. ‘That’s so sweet. Poor Ivan.’
Emily looked out of the window to watch Ivan as he weeded the chapel gardens, and then after a final sniff, gathered herself together. The idea of going over to the funeral parlour terrified her in case Dan was around, but delivering Dora’s special things took precedence over her fears.
‘Right. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’
Marla laced two mugs of tea with liberal splashes of whisky and headed out to find Ivan. He’d insisted on coming to tend to the chapel gardens, despite the fact that Dora’s funeral was less than twenty-four hours away. It had been little over a week since Gabe had discovered Dora’s lifeless body, and her husband had handled it in the quiet, stoic way that only an old war hero could hope to.
‘Tea, Ivan.’
Marla sat down on the low wall along the path and waited for Ivan to put down his shovel and make his way over the lawns towards her. He nodded his thanks and eased himself slowly down next to