Chapter 20

The buzz of my phone on the nightstand woke me the following morning. Simon mumbled in his sleep, and I leant over, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

“Answer it, Duke.” He turned over, taking the covers with him, leaving me mostly exposed to the cool morning air.

I grabbed a hoodie, answering my phone as I tried to step into a pair of sleep shorts.

“Hi, Barbara. What’s up?”

It was early even for her, being an hour ahead.

“Duke, my boy. It’s Cyril.” I stopped dead in my tracks, forgetting the clothes in my hand.

“What’s happened?” A spear of dread pierced my stomach, my heart fluttering in my chest. This was the call I’d been dreading since we saw her last in France.

I knew then she was unwell, but she’d insisted nothing was wrong.

I should have listened to my gut, but instead, I’d trusted her. She’d given me no reason to do otherwise.

He tried to speak, his voice breaking up. “She’s gone. My sweet Barbara has gone.”

“No.” I sank into the chair, not wanting to believe what he was telling me. I shook my head. “She can’t be.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and I choked back a sob, hearing Cyril do the same.

“When? How?” Simon’s warm hand touched my shoulder, and I reached up to hold it.

“She passed away peacefully in her sleep last night. She didn’t suffer, I don’t think, although the morphine may have helped with that.”

“Why was she taking morphine?” I knew deep down why. I’d just refused to see it.

“She had cancer but had decided not to treat it. She said she’d already lived a good life and was ready to go.”

Tears coursed down my face. How could she be gone?

“Why didn’t she tell me?” I didn’t understand.

“She didn’t tell anyone. Only the doctor and I knew the seriousness of her condition. I think a lot of people guessed there was something wrong, but she always denied it.”

She’d done that to me, and I was so fucking cross I’d not had the chance to say goodbye to her. I’d fled that night in France with my tail between my legs.

She was a wonderful woman, one I was proud to call my friend.

Cyril continued. “She wanted to die with grace, to keep her hair, to not have to endure the endless rounds of chemotherapy that promised nothing but a 40 percent chance of survival. To her, the odds weren’t good enough, and she chose death over life. I wasn’t happy about it, I can tell you, but it was her choice and I would never have gone against her wishes.”

I heard the words he was saying, but nothing was sinking in. I refused to believe I’d never see her again.

“So, what’s next?”

“There’ll be a quiet funeral over here. She didn’t want a fuss, so it’ll just be me probably and a few friends.”

“I want to come. When is it?”

“You don’t have to.” His voice was barely a whisper. He must be heartbroken.

“I want to.”

I looked up at Simon, his eyes filled with unshed tears.

“We’ll go,” he mouthed. I was sure neither of us wanted to miss our chance to say au revoir.

“I’ll send you the details when I have them.”

“Promise me?” I couldn’t miss it.

“I promise, Duke. I’m just sorry I had to be the bearer of bad news.”

“I’m sorry too, Cyril. I know you were together a long time. How are you holding up?”

“It’s hard without my Babs. The world has lost one of its brightest stars, but I know she’ll be shining down on me from the skies. She didn’t believe in heaven or hell, God or the Devil, but she did believe in spiritual reincarnation. I know that she’ll find me in another lifetime.”

How he was keeping it together as well as he was, I didn’t know.

I was a blubbering mess, my face full of tears and snot.

“If you need anything…”

“I know where you are. I want you to know she thought the world of you, Duke. She was never able to have children, but if she could have had anyone as a son, she would have chosen you. You were often in her thoughts.”

I handed the phone to Simon, unable to continue.

I walked over to the window overlooking the city and pounded my fists on it, so fucking angry at the loss of her beautiful soul.

Strong arms wrapped around me, and I turned, burying my head in his shoulder. His hands stroked my back, and I sagged against him, barely able to hold my own weight.

“It’s okay, baby. Let it all out.”

“Why, Simon? Why?”

“Sometimes it’s our time to go. Fate has a plan. It was her time. Come on, let’s get you back to bed. Can I get you anything?”

I shook my head. I didn’t want anything but to be comforted.

He led me back to the bedroom and laid me on the bed, covering me with the duvet. I shivered.

Climbing in behind me, he pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I cried until there was nothing left, just dry heaves and a wet pillow.

Death made us selfish. Of course I was sad that she was no longer here, but my tears were for me and Simon and Cyril, knowing that none of us would see her again.

We’d never have to endure her terrible driving again or listen any longer to her subtle flirts, the innuendoes that sometimes even made me blush.

I would miss her…dreadfully.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Forgetting that Simon had only heard my side of the conversation, I relayed to him what Cyril had said. How she’d wanted to die with grace and dignity. I cried all over again, and he held me, not letting me go.

Tired with grief, I fell asleep in his arms, waking again a few hours later. I’d dreamt of nothing, or nothing I could remember, but the realisation of her passing hit me again.

Barbara had been a good friend, and I remembered with fondness her giggle as she’d joked about something Cyril had said. Life would go on for me as normal, but poor Cyril would have to endure the rest of his life without her.

How would he cope?

Simon was no longer in bed, but I could hear him clattering away in the kitchen.

I needed to pee and slowly made my way to the bathroom. I looked at my red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes in the mirror. I looked terrible.

Not having the strength to stand, I sat down to piss, feeling drained of all energy.

I had the headache from hell too and badly needed painkillers.

Wearily, I headed for the kitchen and sat at the breakfast bar, dropping my head to the worktop.

“Here. You might want to take these.”

A glass of water and two paracetamol were placed in front of me. He must have read my mind.

I smiled gratefully and swallowed them down.

“I cancelled your one o’clock,” he said, handing me my phone. “It showed up when you were sleeping. I hope you don’t mind.”

Shit. I’d forgotten all about that.

“No, I don’t mind at all, and thanks.”

I had no lock on my phone, having nothing to hide. I knew that was unusual, but I never saw the point. There was nothing on there of any interest, just my work calendar and contacts. All my important stuff—socials, banking apps, and photographs—were all kept on my iPad, secured with a PIN. Everything on my phone were transferred to the cloud. I’d have hated to lose anything.

“I said you’d had a bereavement and would call back to reschedule. She was fine with it and sent her condolences.”

He slid another drink in front of me. This time it was hot tea. I hugged the mug, trying to draw warmth from it.

“How are you feeling now?” He sat next to me, his hand on my bare thigh. “It was a shock, I know, even for me and I didn’t know her that well.”

“I’m okay, a bit drained and tired.”

“That’ll be the crying. We need to get some liquid back into you. Are you hungry? Can I get you some food?”

“I’m not that hungry. I might just go back to bed. Will you come with me?”

“Of course. I’ve nothing to do today. I was only going to take a trip to the beach, get some pictures. The lighting is about perfect.”

“Can we do that? I think I’d like to do that now instead of sleeping. I’ll just go get dressed.”

Once dressed, we headed to Crosby Beach. The sun shone, but a cool breeze made it feel colder than it actually was.

The tide was out, the statues completely visible. Coming here today reminded me of Ziggy and especially Beau. He’d almost lost his life here. If it hadn’t been for Kwan, we’d have lost him. The thought of him dying with how young he was made me think of how precious life was. Barbara, I knew, had lived a full one and had no regrets.

She’d said as much during our many massage sessions over the years, and I was happy she’d left this earth on her terms.

I watched as Simon took out his camera and started snapping. He’d gaze around him before lifting the camera to his eye and twiddling the lens. I was no expert, content with the few photos I took on my phone.

I wandered along the beach, my hands deep in my pockets. The last beach I’d walked on was in France with Simon. It had been our last evening there, and we’d strolled along, shoulder to shoulder, having finally given in to the undeniable attraction between us.

Had it always been there? I knew for me, I’d been infatuated when we were younger, and as I’d caught up with him after all that time, where fate had continually thrown us together, it had grown until I couldn’t imagine being without him.

Once we’d reconnected at Barbara and Cyril’s place and returned to Liverpool, those first few days were full of sorrow. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again, let alone speak to him. Seeing him at Robbie’s, hearing him say the words I’d wanted him to had been a turning point, and we’d rarely been apart since. He’d stay at my place, or I’d stay with him. I’d never known what it was like to depend on anyone like I had him, and I could admit sometimes it was scary as fuck.

I found a dry patch of sand and sat, my arms resting on my bent legs. Simon eventually joined me, and I rested my head on his shoulder, watching as time passed us by. It stood still in my grief-stricken world, but I knew it wouldn’t last forever.

I’d get my chance to say goodbye, and that would need to be enough.

Several days passed, and I’d heard nothing from Cyril. I’d tried calling Barbara’s number, but to no avail. I guessed it was busy for him. He had his own grief to deal with, add in funeral arrangements, and it was no wonder he had no time to take my call.

I’d gone back to work the next day, occasionally feeling sad, but slowly things returned to normal.

“I have a surprise,” Simon said one night over dinner. “It’s something I’ve been working on, something I’ve wanted to do for ages. I think I’ve finally found the right place.”

“For what?” The pasta meal he’d cooked was delicious. I couldn’t do it half as well, which was why he did most of the cooking.

“The gallery. I found the perfect place for it. I went to see it yesterday and put a deposit down to secure it.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“Didn’t I? It must have slipped my mind. Anyway, you know I’ve always wanted to show my own photographs in a gallery. I’ve been building up my portfolio for the past few years and finally found somewhere to show them. Here, look at these.”

He brought his laptop over to the table and opened a few files.

So many pictures: landscapes, people, nature. You name it, they were all there.

“I even have some of you.” He opened a file simply called Duke. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but when I saw the photographs, I was stunned by their beauty.

Not mine, but the composure, the sheer brilliance of each shot. Some were in colour, taken at the villa in France. Pictures of me laughing and joking, and some from the yacht. I remembered I’d fallen asleep, and he’d taken some candid shots of me as I slept and as we ate our lunch. Barbara was in one of the shots, and I recognised now how ill she must have been.

She was half the woman I’d met a few years earlier.

Lastly, there were shots of me at Crosby Beach. The day we’d found out about her passing. Black-and-white shots that conveyed the grief I’d felt that day.

“These are amazing, Simon. Who knew you were so talented?”

“Hey,” he said. “I’m not sure if I should be insulted by that comment.”

“God, no. That’s not what I meant. These are truly…staggering.”

Bless him, but he blushed. “I just take some pictures and hope they turn out all right.”

“These are more than all right. I’m so proud of you.”

I leant across the table and kissed his lips, licking a drop of sauce from them.

“I won’t sell the ones of you. They’re for me, and I definitely won’t sell the few I have of Barbara.”

His eyes lit up, and I knew he’d had an idea.

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing bad, I promise. Now eat up, you need it.”

A moment later, the phone rang.

“Cyril, how are you?”

“You know, good and bad. I’ve been busy with the arrangements. I still don’t think it’s sunk in yet that she’s not here. It’s like she’s gone away for a while and she’ll be coming back soon with her sunny smile and saucy comments. You know what she’s like.”

I didn’t miss the slip of the tongue and knew from experience it would take a while for him to realise she was no longer here.

“I do, but time is a great healer as they always say.”

“Hmmm. I wonder how much time I have left myself now she’s gone.”

“Don’t talk like that. You have years left in you.”

“Maybe I don’t want those years now. She’s my world.” He paused, and I heard him sniffle. I couldn’t imagine how hard it was for him.

“Do you have an update?”

“What? Oh, yes. Of course. The funeral will be on Tuesday.” It was Friday now. We could make it there in time, no problem at all.

I told him we’d be there. He told us not to wear black, that Barbara hadn’t wanted that, and I agreed. I had little black anyway, preferring lighter colours.

I ended the call and wearily turned to Simon.

“The funeral is Tuesday. I’ll cancel my appointments.”

“And I’ll book us a hotel. It wouldn’t be right to stay with Cyril. He’ll have enough to contend with without having a load more guests to deal with.”

I felt numb still. Even my grandparents’ passing hadn’t affected me this much.

“Why don’t you head to bed? I’ve a few things to finish up here. I’ll be with you soon.”

Three more days and I’d have to say goodbye to one of the most wonderful people I’d known. Life could be cruel, but death was crueller.