going to do, leave her in there? But by that time I’d seen her big beautiful grey eyes and how she got dimples in her cheeks when she smiled.
We got married in 1943, which was the next time I put in to port – just a quick wedding, me in my uniform, her in a coat she borrowed from a friend and wearing the beautiful blue scarf, lent by her mother.
Vi died the year before we would have had our diamond wedding. We were planning a big party, with our daughter Susan and all her family coming over from Australia, but by the spring both of us knew she wasn’t going to last that long. She fought so hard, but in the end it took her the way we knew it would. She died with me holding her hand on a rainy day in March.
I kissed her goodbye and went home.
You want to know about my story, don’t you? Well, my story ended on that day I left my Vi behind in the hospital. Things happened after that but they weren’t important. Nothing was important any more.
Susan came over from Australia for the funeral. She stayed two weeks and then went back again. I knew she wouldn’t come back to England again until it was my funeral, and maybe not even then – after all, I wasn’t to know about it either way, was I?
Annabel
Mum’s funeral took place eleven days after I left hospital. Sam had helped with the arrangements. He’d asked for quotes from other funeral directors and then got on with the organising, once I was able to start making decisions again. He hadn’t wanted me to go back to the Co-operative Funeralcare on my own once I’d worked out that that was where it had happened… where I’d met him, the angel, whoever he was really.
Irene helped me get ready. She let me borrow a black skirt and a nice cashmere sweater; I didn’t think it would fit me, but to my surprise it was quite loose.
‘What about a bit of make-up?’ she asked me. ‘Brighten up that beautiful face of yours? Hmm?’
‘I don’t usually bother,’ I said.
‘Come with me.’
I was starting to realise that there was no point arguing with Irene. She took me into the bedroom at the front of the house, sat me on the edge of the double bed and fussed around with my face while I kept my eyes closed.
‘Always makes me feel better when I’ve got my lippy on,’ she said.
Whenever I’d worn make-up in the past it had made me feel grubby, but I didn’t tell her that. It was easier to just let her do whatever she wanted to.
‘You’re very kind,’ I said, ‘taking me in like this. What did you think, when Sam told you I was coming to stay?’
She laughed. ‘I wasn’t surprised. He talked about you a lot. He was really worried when you were in the hospital, you know.’
‘Was he?’
‘Of course.’
‘I don’t understand why he takes such trouble.’
Irene was rattling through her make-up bag. I looked at it curiously – how could one person need so much make-up? What was it all even for?
‘I think he sees a lot of himself in you, Annabel. He was very depressed when his mum died, you know. He loved her very much. It took him a long, long time to get over losing her.’
‘I thought he just wanted to get to the bottom of the story.’
A frown creased her forehead. She was pretty, I thought. Younger than Brian. I wondered how old she was.
‘No, that’s not our Sam at all. He’s a good journalist but he’s also a very moral person. He thinks he can help you, so that’s what he’s decided he’s going to do. He’s one in a million, Sam is.’
She moved out of the way and let me see myself in the mirror. I looked very different. Not like me at all. I smiled at myself experimentally.
When I went back into my room I found a small white feather on the floor by the bed. It was from my mum, a message to say that she was there, she was with me. Maybe she even liked the fact that Irene was taking care of me. I felt a sense of relief. There had been moments when I wasn’t sure if I still believed in angels, and perhaps I’d been hoping for a sign without expecting it. And here it was.