the pull of anything wanting me back, only the last memory pushing me away.’
‘Do you not even want to visit? See if that brings back any happy memories?’
‘I have to admit, I’m afraid that it’ll make that scene play in my head even more fiercely. Look, don’t ever say this to anyone else will you? Especially not Keisha.’ Clive glanced round to make sure no one else was about to join them.
‘Cross my heart.’
‘What happened made me want to end my life. I was so utterly convinced Nancy had been killed.’ Even saying her name caused his heart to fluctuate. ‘I wanted to go and meet my maker as well. Life didn’t seem worth continuing with. I wanted to go and be with her. Daft as it may sound, I’m not sure what hurt more… Seeing my wife dead or being told I didn’t have a wife at all. The love I felt for her was so real. Even now I find it hard to accept that it only ever existed because of a having a high temperature.’ Everything about her had seemed so certain, until he’d been told it wasn’t.
‘Wow. When you put it like that I think I understand. Whatever memories that house holds, it’s not worth the possibility of your heart breaking all over again, right?’
‘Precisely. Given how poorly it’s coped recently it might finish this old bugger off.’
‘And we don’t want that.’
Clive nodded. ‘I’m glad to say, I agree. We don’t want that. If love exists like the one I imagined, it’s worth staying on the planet a bit longer. Keisha and you have shown me that maybe life isn’t all that bad… You two have helped me from the kindness of your own hearts.’
‘Let’s hope it does exist.’
‘It will for one of us at least. I’m well past it, but you’re not.’ Clive gave George a mischievous grin, recalling the way the lad always got misty-eyed over Keisha.
‘If you don’t mind me asking, what do you want us to do about the house?’
Clive paused in thought, rubbing his chin for a moment. ‘Selling it seems like the wisest thing to do.’
‘What about your things? Won’t you want them for your new place?’
‘Some, perhaps.’
‘Do you know what you’d like to keep?’
‘My chair. The dining table. My kettle and toaster.’
‘We’ll write a list. I can make sure anything you want to keep gets delivered here.’
They were talking as if they’d viewed the flat already. Just then a tall, suited chap came in as if the wind were carrying him.
‘Sorry about the delay.’ He shook both their hands, neglecting the formality of introductions. ‘Shall we go and have a look? Preference was for ground floor, correct?’
‘I thought that would be sensible. What do you think, Clive?’
‘That does seem sensible. Save some energy for the allotment.’
‘You’re lucky, we have one left. Let me show you.’
The gentleman rushed them as if there were only five spare minutes in his day to give them the tour. It seemed an odd way to go about trying to sell a place.
‘Communal access, but only one entrance on the ground floor so the corridor is almost an extension of the flat.’ He rattled off facts about the place so quickly that Clive was through the kitchen, lounge and bedroom, and being shown the walk-in shower before actually comprehending any of the features.
‘I hope you’re keeping up with this,’ he whispered to George.
‘Just about.’
By the time they were at the end of their whistle-stop tour, Clive found he was verging on being breathless. The space was small, but it was enough to wear a man his age out when being motored around it.
‘So, what are your thoughts? You’ll have to decide today if you do want it. There are others wanting the ground-floor apartment. It’s a prized position for retirement flats in my experience.’
‘I need to check out one very important thing.’
‘What’s that, sir?’
‘I need to see how long it’ll take me to walk to my allotment. Young George and I will go for a stroll and check to see if the distance is agreeable.’
‘And if it is?’
‘You’ll have your sale. Now if you could wait here patiently like a good boy.’ Clive didn’t mind talking to someone like that when they’d not even bothered to give him their name. George stifled a grin like an excellent co-conspirator as they made their way out.
‘What do you think of the place?’ George asked, when they were beyond the manicured forecourt and on the path.