BUTTERFLIES FLY AWAY (6 page)

Within seconds the reply. “Escape plan or join the
BBQ????”

“Escape plan!”

It frustrated her that her sister didn’t just come
out and say and remind her of the event instead of trying to shield her from
it.  Perpetually being the big sister she supposed.  But this was to
be a year of firsts.   The first valentines without him, their
birthdays, Wedding  anniversary, Christmas and the first anniversary of
his death.  All those epic firsts to get through. 

Last month she had her first birthday without
him.  A day that she was dreading.  Not that extra year older dread
but being without Rob.  He usually changed his schedule so that he was
home for her birthday so that she wouldn’t wake up alone.  He would
surprise her with a trip away or dinner in their favourite restaurant,
somewhere that she could dress to the nines. They would spend time with her
family too and she would feel cherished surrounded by those she loved and that
loved her.  This year, her year of firsts she woke up alone, but was
determined to go to work and treat it like any other day.  She made the bed,
smoothed the duvet cover like she always did and fluffed the pillow that didn’t
have any indent other than her own.  “Why can’t you give me a sign that
you are here?” she said aloud in frustration.  “I miss you so much.”

At work her colleagues had brought a cake and sang
Happy Birthday.  Again she tried to act normal.  Thanked them and
sliced the cake for everyone to tuck into.  She had said to Fiona that she
didn’t want a fuss and for once it appeared Fiona had listened to her.  As
a department for birthdays they would usually go out.  Lunch or cocktails
were the traditional birthday celebrations and make a day of it but she had
declined this offer.  Maybe next year was her reply.  There was
always a maybe. 

She had made an attempt at normality, went to her
Mums for a family meal instead of going out, had a couple of glasses of wine
but left early in a taxi.  Her first year without a
To My Wife
card.

After checking the lock on the front door, again,
she walked round the house checking windows were closed and turned off the
small table lamp.  Time for bed.  She was paranoid about making sure
the doors were locked and she could go safely upstairs.  Looking in the
mirror she felt like she was forty-eight not twenty-eight.  Grief had taken
its toll on her and it was a cycle that she didn’t think she could or would
want to break free from.  Her hair was dull needed cut and if she caught
the light she knew her roots would need coloured soon.  She carefully
removed her make up all part of her night-time routine, ran a bath, filling it
with bubbles the one luxury she allowed herself and soaked in the hot
water.  If she closed her eyes she could replay this same scenario a
thousand times but with a different outcome.  Rob would bring her a glass
of wine, she would ask him to scrub her back and it would all get very messy as
he would join her!  She opened her eyes and wiped the tears away that had
fallen without her even noticing.  Would this feeling of loss ever go
away?

As she dried off something caught her eye on the
floor.  A shiny penny.  Where had that come from?  She picked it
up and put it in a dish on top of the drawers.  If she didn’t pick it up
then it would surely end up being vacuumed away later when she did her house
work.  She couldn’t remember dropping any coins but then again she could
hardly remember what she did yesterday.  Fluffing the pillows and punching
them into a shape she was comfortable with she tried to sleep.  It seemed
tonight that sleep would be elusive.  The noises of the house as it settled
down for the night seemed to amplify.  Every creak and bang she could
place as in the months after Rob’s death when her mind was in overdrive she
methodically ruled out the source.  Click, click, and click the radiator
in her room would sound at night as it cooled down – even in summer.  Tap,
tap, and tap the sound of the roman blind tapping against the window pain in
the en suite.  She would leave the window open after the steam of her bath
to clear the air.  But could hear the familiar noise as the blind
moved.  There was always the sound of the creak on the stairway – this one
she couldn’t place but the noise had been there for years even when Rob was
still there.

Tonight the dream that came to her was the one she
feared.  In her dream she was in the car with Rob when it crashed. 
As was their habit if Rob was based in the office they would travel to work
together but more often than not he was working away.  That day she had
taken a holiday from work to go to the Spa but she should have been with Rob. 
The dream would play out like a movie.  They would leave the house, Carrie
forgetting her mobile as she usually did when it was still plugged in charging,
rushing back to get it.  Rob would be eating some toast, crumbs over his
suit and in the car.  Carrie chastising him for being messy.  Rob
chastising her for being forgetful.  The radio would be playing in the
back ground and they would chat about their day ahead, whose turn it was to
make dinner and their chances of getting away from the office at a reasonable
time.  Just a normal average day for them.  That’s where the dream
would deceive her and for a moment she would believe it to be real with the
normality of it.  She looked at him as he sang along to an old 1990’s song
from his ‘youth’.  “Oh that is soooo cheesy you still remember all the
words!” she would tease him.  His hair was spiked up a little at the back
at the crown of his head and the dark brown hair peppered more with grey. 
“You need a haircut Mr Davies!” He would turn and smile then BANG.  The
car would be hit with the lorry jack-knifing, spinning round and round until it
hit the barrier.  Until the car shuddered to a halt, then the car horn
would blast as Rob’s head rested on the steering wheel.  In the dream or
nightmare as it now became she would reach over and tilt his head towards her,
the blood trickling down his face from the cuts sustained from the glass. 
Then she screamed and screamed until she woke sitting upright on the bed. 
Just as well the neighbours couldn’t hear her.  She looked at the clock on
the nightstand 3.14am.

It would be impossible to go back to sleep so she
returned back downstairs to make some tea. Needing something to distract her
from the images replaying in her head.  She hadn’t seen any of the
accident pictures that were taken by the police as part of their enquiry. 
But that didn’t stop her visualising how awful it would have been.  When
she blinked she could almost see in her mind’s eye his face as in his final
moments.  She remembered seeing his body in the morgue and the cut on his
forehead.  Back on the sofa, a throw tucked around her legs and a cup of
tea the remedy for her ails.  She put the TV on but picked a digital radio
channel, muted music in the background.  The table lamp back on too as she
didn’t want to sit in the living room in darkness.  The tea soon finished
and she wasn’t aware of nodding off but no further dreams disturbed her.

“Ahhh” she yelped out as she rolled of the
sofa.  Cracked her leg of the coffee table.  Disorientated and
springing up off the floor surrounded by the scatter cushions from the
sofa.  At a glance the wall clock displaying it was 10.02am.  Oh no
late for work then a millisecond later relief as she realised it was Saturday
and no for work her.  Avoiding another bollocking for being late as it was
the week end. Phew!  Her body stiff from her sleep on the sofa she headed
for the shower. 

The remainder of the morning she spent cleaning the
house and doing her laundry.  Although with only one person in the house
she did wonder at times what there was to tidy.  After a look through her
fridge she knew a trip to the supermarket was in order.  She shook the
carton of orange juice and managed to pour half a glass before rinsing the
carton out for recycling.  Maybe today she should make that appointment
with her hair dresser?  Then she talked herself out of it.  It was
Saturday after all on a bank holiday weekend.  They were bound to be
full.  She would call them later through the week and make an
appointment.  Donna at Dazzle Me had been a good friend to Carrie through
the years and she felt bad that she hadn’t cancelled her last appointment in
time.  She knew if she called she would probably squeeze her in but she
didn’t want to do that.

HR had asked her again yesterday if she had Rob’s
laptop and she was losing patience with them.  When Claire had helped her
sort through Rob’s stuff they hadn’t found the laptop and she had told HR that
when she returned to work.  What was the big deal?  She told them she
would have another look this weekend and advise them on Monday.  Carrie
stood outside Rob’s study.  Her hand on the doorknob trying to pluck up
the courage to open the door.  She hadn’t been in the room for
months.  Avoided it like the plague.  But it needed to be done and
she took a deep breath and opened the door.  Standing in the doorway she
let the door hinge pull the door back as far as it would go.  The room
smelt musty and stale.  She opened the window to air the room. 
Pulled the blinds high and let the natural light flood in.  She pulled the
drawers open, shuffled paper around but no sign of the laptop.  It was
compact but not small enough to be hidden by papers but she still rummaged
around.  Sitting on the leather chair she leaned back, her hands on the
arm rests. The shelves looked bare where she had removed some of the trophies
and pictures for his parents.  The boxes still in the garage.  She
hadn’t contacted them to make any arrangements.  Didn’t want to be petty
but they hadn’t contacted her either.  What’s that old saying?  Two
wrongs don’t make a right?  She would write to them, that would be better
than a call plus she didn’t know if they were travelling or not.  There a
decision made.

Opening the top drawer she pulled out an envelope
with the logo of an Edinburgh restaurant, gasped in surprise as she had
completely forgotten.  Rob had bought the voucher and made the booking
months in advance for her parents wedding anniversary.  They were foodies
and had wanted to go to this up and coming restaurant for ages but the waiting
list was months long.  Ironically the restaurant called La Vie, translated
as the life.  A final gift from Rob.

It was too much.

She stared to cry again, great big wracking sobs
that shook her body tears flowing down her face.  Folding her arms she lay
her head down on the desk and cried and cried and cried. It felt like hours
later that she woke her eyes puffy and swollen from the tears.  The room
was cold from the open window.  Typical Rob to buy something and not tell
her, making a grand gesture or a surprize but this one took the wind from her
sails.

In the bathroom she avoided her reflection and
wetted a face towel.  Applying it to her closed eyes in an attempt to
soothe the puffiness her tears had brought.  Her plans now to go to the
supermarket abandoned.  Maybe tomorrow she would go.  The thought of
leaving the house brought panic to her stomach.  It was almost six months
since Rob had died but today it felt as though it was six hours that it was so
raw.  The grief would come in waves like the tide coming in gently lapping
against her.  Always there, reminding her of her loss, when she woke and
turned expecting to see his head on the pillow next to hers the wave would
crash. When she would set the dinner table for two, two dinner plates, table
mats in her hand, cutlery; another crash of the wave.  At the supermarket
picking up his favourite fruit juice or a packet of razor blades into the
shopping trolley; another crash of the wave.  The tide no longer gently lapping
it was ferocious against her the sand pulling her legs from under her; ready to
topple.  Sitting in her car after collecting dry cleaning the waves
finally pulled her under.  She grabbed frantically at the cellophane
covering the fabric that he would never wear again, tearing it open and pulling
it to her face.  But the suit no longer smelled of his aftershave, just
the chemical smell of the dry cleaners.  A suit that he had worn many
times, his lucky suit, the one he always wore when closing a deal.  The
suit now a crumpled mess wrapped in her arms.  That’s when she knew she
had to do something that her loss was unbearable and was manifesting in
everything she did.  Her doctor had referred her for counselling when the
grief overtook and she finally admitted that she couldn’t cope.  He
prescribed tablets as a temporary measure to ease her anxiety.   The
counsellor said she was grieving her loss and place in life.  She was
Rob’s wife but now she was his widow.  Survivors guilt.

Her head was pounding from the tears and she was
exhausted.  Retreating downstairs she closed the door of the study firmly
and searched for some painkillers hoping to dull the headache.

“No … me wanna up .. peese … tantie … peese ..” Harry
was pulling at Carrie’s legs, wanting her to pick up him.  Minutes before
she had put him back on the floor to play with his toys whilst she helped her
sister with Sunday lunch.  How could she resist his angelic pleading?

“Okay, trouble.  Up we go”

Resting him on her hip, he changed position and
tucked his little body into hers.  She kissed the top of his head and
blonde curls smelled his ‘baby’ smell of lotions and baby powder.  She
adored her nephew and felt a moment of guilt that she hadn’t spent much time
with him recently.  He had started to walk and Claire assured her he was
into ‘everything’ in the house.  They had to re baby-proof the flat. 
With a pang again she felt the loss of not having a baby with Rob.  That
she wouldn’t share this with him.  When she had the spread sheet plotted
out with days to conceive she was convinced that that she would have been
pregnant by now.  Another pang of loss, of a never could or would be with
Rob.

“How’s work?” Claire asked whilst she multitasked
the final food preparations for lunch.

“Mmm where do I begin? Pretty rubbish at the moment.
I feel like I just don’t fit in anymore. Not because of what happened with Rob.
It’s just not the same, maybe its time for a change of scene.  Oh I don’t
know!” Harry began to wriggle again in her arms. “Okay you, back to Gran. 
Mum can you take Harry whilst I help Claire finish up with lunch?”

With their Mum out of earshot. “I don’t want to
worry Mum and Dad .. well you know they worry anyway .. but I’m still in a sort
of limbo”

“How? What’s happened?”

Carrie explained a couple of incidents that had
occurred, the wrong order, being late and HR monitoring her.

“Don’t worry Carrie.  They don’t expect you to
perform miracles back in the office.  You just need to adjust, find your
feet again and it will all come together”

Food was ready to serve and they carried the dishes
through to the dining table. “And if that doesn’t work give that Tina a slap!
Or I will if she keeps up her bitching”

Harry’s highchair was pulled into the space where
normally Rob would have sat.  Carrie alternated with Claire feeding Harry
whilst he banged the little baby spoon on the tray. Mashed potatoes smeared all
over his face whilst he smiled his toothy grin, displaying his tiny two front
teeth.  The distraction of Harry had also helped her clear her own dinner
plate. She couldn’t remember when she had last finished a meal.   She
wasn’t sure if packets of hob nobs were considered nutritional!

No time like the present to give her parents ‘the
present’.

“Mum and Dad I’ve got something for you both from
Rob” Her parents looked at her quizzically and she carried on speaking “It’s a
voucher for La Vie, I found it in his study yesterday.”

“Oh Carrie” her Mum clutched at the envelope. “That was
so like Rob. So thoughtful.”

“I’ll take Harry for his bath” Carrie picked up her
nephew, couldn’t stand to stay in the room whilst everyone took in the enormity
of her bombshell.  That’s why she had waited until after dinner.  She
left the room as her Dad comforted her Mum as she too began to cry.

Carrie took solace in bath time with Harry.  He
was just like his Auntie and loved the bath full of bubbles.  Splashing
water everywhere he truly was a water baby.  She dodged the splashes his
hands were happily making.  Lost in the distraction of bath time and
getting Harry ready for bed the time soon passed.  She felt such a burst
of love for this baby as she stroked his soft cheek cuddling him in her
arms.  Her sister took over the final administrations and he was soon
cocooned in his cot, the nightlight shining a soft glow in the room.

“Fingers crossed that’s him asleep ‘til
morning.” 

Carrie was persuaded to stay the night but she
didn’t put up much resistance.  Her empty home held little attraction to rush
back to.  They opened another bottle of wine after their parents went
home.  For the first time in months Carrie relaxed and even managed to get
through the evening without thinking about Rob every waking moment.  A
duvet and pillows and she settled onto the sofa to sleep.  The guest
bedroom now occupied with Harry’s cot but Carrie didn’t mind sleeping on the
sofa.  That’s where she slept the most at home, preferred it to the empty
expanse of her bed.

It was a muffled thump, thump noise that woke her from
her slumber.  She sat up temporarily disorientated as to where she was,
her head feeling a bit achy from the effects of the wine, her mouth dry. 
Then she remembered she was at Claire’s house.  The noise was coming from
the neighbour’s house having yet another party.  Voices carrying in the
communal stairway, echoing through the old tenement building.  She looked
at her wristwatch it was 3am.  As quiet as she could she went to boil the
kettle and make some tea. 

“Jeez are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“I didn’t think anyone else was awake!”  Carrie
answered “Thought a cup of tea would help me get back to sleep”

“What’s sleep? Another
quiet
night in with
the neighbours! If it’s not party, party, party next door... then it’s Harry
teething”

Carrie took over from making the tea and they sat
back on the sofa.

“I’m so tired Carrie.  Harry is great and I
love being a
Mum
but I didn’t recon it would be so much hard work. 
This is the first night he’s slept through in ages and now the bloody neighbours
have started again.  If they wake him!  I will swing for
them.   I complained again to my landlord but they are useless!”

“Did you renew your lease?  Is there anything
else you can do?  What about complaining to the university?”

“Yeah, signed on for another year.  We just had
too much going on to look for anywhere else. That’s us stuck until next summer
unless we break the lease and lose our deposit.  We are stuck.” 
Carrie knew that ‘too much going on’ translated to Rob dying and everything
being up in the air.  They hadn’t spoken properly in months and Carrie
felt guilty that her sister was going through her own troubles supporting her
whilst she was stuck in her bubble.  She knew Claire was trying to shield
her and not add to her burden.

“Have things picked up in work for Ryan?”  Her
brother-in-law was a bricklayer and with the whole country, no never mind that,
with the world coming to an economic halt work had dried up.  People were
struggling to keep a hold of the houses they had and the building of new
estates were postponed.

“It’s patchy, a shift here and shift there. 
But Mike – you know from our wedding” she didn’t but nodded her head “There’s
word of an estate that’s due to begin next week and he’s put Ryan forward for a
job there; just waiting now to hear if he will get the thumbs up or not and to
be honest we could do with a break.  I’m thinking about going back to
work.  Mum’s offered to help with childcare.  I don’t want to but I
might need to look for something if this job doesn’t work out for Ryan”

A half an hour later they were still chatting, the
tea finished and the neighbours had finally finished their party.

“Okay sis, time to try and get some sleep, again!
Thanks for listening to my grumbles”

“Hey, thanks for listening to mine over the last six
months I couldn’t have gotten through it without you Claire”

“Carrie, I wish I had the right words to say, to
make things better for you, but just know that I care.  We all care for
you”