Fall of Hope (Book 1): Real Heroes Don't Wear Capes (42 page)

“
Be
careful with her,” a voice calls from behind as a wheel crashes
into the steps above. Mrs Colby comes out with her calm face hidden
inside the black bag.

Finding
no comfort in that, Bobby turns away. When he looks across the street
again, the cloaked enigma is gone.

He
unravels the poem he wrote for Mrs Colby, but when he glares at the
words, they make no sense to him. So, he scrunches the paper up and
places it in his trouser pocket.

How
did that happen?
It
was nothing to do with me, it can't have been. It isn't possible.

Mrs
Colby asked for a poem about bluebells and being able to see her
family again. She never saw their faces after what fate befell her
daughter. She told Bobby she could die a happy woman if she could see
the face of the granddaughter just once. That is why she sat at the
window everyday—in the hope that one day she would come walking
up those steps.

They
were her bluebells.

People
tell him his poems change their lives, but he has never believed he
has a hand in their lifestyle changes. Perhaps his words give them a
subconscious kick in the backside, or the faith they need. He doesn't
know.

After
all these years though, what are the chances of her granddaughter
turning up days after I gave Mrs Colby the poem she requested?

He
wonders what Danny will make of this, but decides he doesn't want to
know after earlier.

He
thinks I'm crazy, so telling him this will just stir the pot further.

Bypassing
strangers, Bobby wonders if he made that happen, despite how
ridiculous it sounds. But if he had, does that also make him
responsible for Mrs Colby's death?

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

Bobby
stands on his front path in the suit that's too long in the leg and
sleeves. When the hearse pulls up at the curb, he follows the reef he
didn't pick out so not to acknowledge the coffin.

With
his reddened eyes, he attempts to keep his tears at bay as he closes
his hands into fists. As he digs his nails into his palms, he spots
his card through the glass and tries to swallow the lump in his
throat.

He
cannot help thinking this is what Gage wanted—his emotions
striped back to their rawest form. Despite the sadness, an anger for
that guy creeps inside him.

The
hand caressing his shoulder doesn't jolt him, but the warmth of
somebody's touch is a surprise.

“
Are
you okay, love?”

He
flinches away from the words Miss Summers speaks. Those words are
like a dagger to his heart. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep
the grief from pouring out in a stream of hopeless devastation, but
it almost fails. There are no words he can say to convey how not okay
he is, even if he could open his mouth and say anything more than
mumbled sobbing.

Why
do people ask that question?
I'm
not okay, are you blind? Nothing will ever be okay again.

Despite
his need to push her away, he allows her to pull him into a brief
embrace. He drops his face into her shoulder and smells her sweet
perfume as he grits down on his emotions.

This
is going to be one long day.

•

The
service goes by without a hitch, and he realises how grateful he is
to Danny's mother for arranging the whole thing.

Faces
are behind pews—neighbours and old friends she has not seen in
years. But no family turn up. His concentration breaks apart as he
waits for his father to come through the church doors and show
remorse, but he doesn't.

All
the people look disheartened by why they have to be here, but there
is little emotion. Knowing that pulls on Bobby's heart strings.

She
deserves to cried over. She was a genuine woman who got ground down
by my dad's actions. She became estranged with those in her life, but
there are memories before then that are worth upset. Why does no one
see that?

Yet,
no one looks all that moved by her loss. He wonders if he is
expecting something more because of the emotions he is concealing
inside. Or is he imagining them to be uncaring through anger?

He
turns and faces Danny's polished shoes on his own feet.

The
only input Bobby submitted was the poem, 'The road not taken' by
Robert Frost
and the song playing as the coffin disappears
behind the curtains. The song 'Don't let the sun go down on me' by
Elton John
and
George Michael
was her favourite,
therefore, the only song fitting to accompany her on that final
journey. He longs to see her dancing around the kitchen to the song
again, but supposes that will elude him even in his sleep.

As
he leaves without looking back, he follows Danny out and curses
himself for not having gotten up to speak. He wrote a eulogy, but
after glancing around at the people waiting to go to the free bar, he
opted out. They didn't care about her, so the words would be going to
waste on them.

Instead,
he drops it on the coffin as his mother disappears into the ground.
He is the only one who will know the words because, wherever his
mother is now, she is not here. If that glow was her spirit—something
he still cannot bring himself to believe—then she has gone to
another place. He hopes it is somewhere beautiful and filled with
bluebells.

Maybe
she is now with Benji.

That
is the only thought he can find comfort in now.

•

He
whispers his last goodbyes and tosses the bluebells atop the wood and
dirt. After considering the flowers Danny brought around, Bobby
thought of a better idea. He drifted into the garden to uproot his
mother's pride and joy in the middle of the night. Sure, she would
have preferred them to live and grow, but she wouldn't be around to
tend to them. Besides, he wanted her buried with something she cared
for.

Following
the flowers, the letter and poem fall against the wood with a hollow
thud. The hymns he hadn't bothered miming go round inside his head,
along with the sound of his mother weeping. He wishes that sound
could be her laughter. Yet, although he knows she laughed frequently
within his youth, he cannot recall the sound. That disheartens him.

Why
can I not remember?

Danny
stands silent beside him until everyone else heads for the pub. After
listening to him opening his mouth numerous times to say something,
only to swallow the words back down, Bobby requests he leave.

“
I'm
sorry I didn't do anything. I should have put a stop to this. I know
Benji would have, but I guess you're with him now and that is good.
He will keep you safe. Everything will be okay now, I promise.”
He isn't sure whether he is saying that to comfort her or himself.
“I'll miss you and cherish every memory I have of you. I
promise, I'll make you proud. I love you.”

Staring
at the wooden cross, he scowls. 'Devoted wife' is written on the
plaque. Yes, she devoted her life to him even when she should have
walked away. He swallows the anger down, for now it is overrun by the
sadness that's building to bursting point.

“
Go
on your journey in safety,” he whispers. He plants a kiss on
his hand and places it on the stone before leaving.

•

Danny's
mum is waiting for him in the car when he comes back around the side
of the church. With patience, she sits with the door open, talking to
his mate.

“
You
okay, bud?”

Bobby
replies to Danny's concerned words by nodding and jumping onto the
back seat without a word.

“
It
was a nice service, your mum would have loved it.”

Yeah,
if the flowers were blue she would have, he thinks and hates himself
for.

“
Thanks
for everything, Miss Summers. I don't know what I would have—”

“
It's
okay, love. There's no need, honestly.”

As
Danny jumps in next to him, Bobby doesn't miss the look he exchanges
with his mother in the mirror.

Miss
Summers starts the car and winds the window down. As they drive away,
the breeze rolls through his hair. It relieves him of the clammy
forehead he hadn't noticed before.

“
Listen,
Bobby, we've been thinking.”

And
here we go
.

It
isn't a funeral until somebody is crying, and he is so close now he
can almost taste the tears. The peace was beautiful with only the
wind whipping past, but now it fills with a thick static he cannot
escape.

“
I
was talking to Danny, and we both think that it's best if you come
and stay with us for a while. There's plenty of room—you can
bunk in with Danny until I clean the study out.”

“
I'm
fine, Miss Summers.”

“
But
it must be lonely there all by yourself.”

It
always was lonely without Benji.

“
I'm
fine, really,” Bobby insists.

“
Danny
told me about the dreams.”

“
Mum!”
Danny pitches in from beside him in a high-pitched squeal.
“
I
just think maybe you're not coping, mate. I wouldn't either if I'd
lost what you have,” he tries to explain. When he meets Bobby's
gaze though, he reverts his attention to the window.

“
Grief
does strange things to people, Bobby. I should know. When I lost my
father I had a nervous breakdown. I went a little crazy, I tell—”

“
What,
so I'm crazy now?”

“
Bobby,
I didn't mean—”

“
I'm
not crazy! I was having the dreams before, wasn't I?” He turns
to Danny and awaits confirmation.

“
Yeah,
but you were kind of scary yesterday, mate.”

“
Crazy
and scary? Wow." He props his elbow on the door as he watches
the garage down the road from his house drift by.

“
We're
not saying that, mate.”

“
Well,
what are you saying?”

“
Just
that maybe you'd benefit from talking to somebody. Being around
people will help instead of being all alone.”

“
Somebody
like who?”

“
I
don't know, us, or a bereavement counsellor? A psychiatrist?”

Bobby
whips the seat belt off and tells Miss Summers to stop the car. When
she tries to reason with him, he screams at her to Danny's horror.

“
Stop
the fucking car now!”