Finding Love at Hedgehog Hollow. Jessica Redland

      I pushed open the back bedroom, planning to look out the window, and screamed.

      Wearing the same clothes as yesterday, Gramps was positioned against the headboard, opposite the collage of selfies. An invite to his seventy-fifth birthday rested on his knee and a half-eaten piece of birthday cake lay on a plate on the bedside table.

      ‘Oh, Gramps.’ My lip wobbled and tears pooled in my eyes as I stared at him.

      I slowly shuffled towards him and gently closed his eyes. There was no need to check his pulse. I’d seen death many times and he’d obviously joined Nanna last night.

      ‘Send my love to Nanna,’ I whispered before kissing his cool cheek and removing his glasses. ‘Give her a big hug from me and thank her for letting me keep you for another five years.’

      A shuddering sob shook my body and tears dripped down my cheeks. With shaking hands, I removed my phone from my pocket. I wanted Dad but I knew I needed to try Mum first. Gramps was, after all, her father. Mum barely ever answered the phone to me and today was no exception. I tried Dad.

      ‘Hi Sammie.’

      ‘Dad? Gramps is dead. I’m at Meadowcroft and he’s dead. Can you tell Mum and Auntie Louise?’ The words tumbled out between sobs.

      ‘No! Oh, Sammie. Are you okay?’

      ‘Not really. Can you drive over?’

      Losing Gramps was unbearable. I’d never known pain like it. Instead of uniting us in our loss, it drove a further wedge between Mum and me. She was understandably distraught at the loss of her remaining parent but she accused me of not trying to save him. Why hadn’t I called an ambulance sooner? Why hadn’t I attempted CPR? How dare I call myself a nurse? Even when the coroner confirmed that a massive heart attack had taken him the previous evening, there was no reasoning with her.

      At work, I couldn’t stop crying. Worried about my emotional state, my manager insisted I take some time off until after the funeral. While that was undoubtedly the right thing for my patients, it wasn’t ideal for me because it gave me too much time to think.

      Mum took bereavement leave and made it clear that she hated me being under her feet. I couldn’t say or do anything right. I offered to help organise the funeral or wake but was accused of interfering. I suggested going to Meadowcroft to feed the wildlife and keep on top of the weeding but was accused of trying to make it my home. Dad tried to keep the peace but it only resulted in more arguments so, not wanting to drag Auntie Louise, Uncle Simon and Chloe into our battle, I spent the next week or so between Hannah’s and James’s.

      James was brilliant. He let me cry, he let me vent and he had a ready supply of hugs and comforting words. I knew I had to end it but not right then; not when my heart was already broken.

      I returned to Whitsborough Bay on the Tuesday, a couple of days before the funeral. Mum had thankfully calmed down, her anger replaced by the silent treatment, which was mildly preferable.

      Chloe and I prepared a eulogy which Dad offered to read out on our behalf as we knew we wouldn’t be able to get beyond a few sentences without breaking down. The only way to get Mum’s buy-in was for Chloe to present it as her idea with a few contributions from me rather than the other way round. Not that it really mattered. The important thing was for that wonderful man to be appropriately remembered.

      At the funeral service, I huddled close to James but, as I listened to Dad reading out the words that Chloe and I had prepared, all I could think about was my final day with Gramps and his last request. I couldn’t keep putting it off. I’d focus on saying goodbye to Gramps but then I needed to say goodbye to James. Soon.

      I hadn’t expected ‘soon’ to be that very evening.

      7

       Present Day

      After the group photographs outside the church were complete, there was time to mingle while Chloe and James had some photos taken at the other end of the churchyard in front of a beautiful willow tree.

      Surveying the guests, I spotted Hannah sitting on a shady bench. She was eight months’ pregnant and probably relieved at the opportunity to escape the sunshine and rest her feet.

      I waved then picked up my skirts and started to make my way towards her when a cold hand on my arm froze me to the spot. Spindly fingers. Lily of the Valley eau de toilette. I shuddered.

      ‘Great-Aunt Agnes.’ Smile. Be nice. ‘How lovely to see you.’

      ‘And you, my dear,’ she said through gritted teeth. Such a lie.

      ‘Lovely service,’ I said when she showed no sign of moving away.

      ‘Indeed. It’s so wonderful to see our little Chloe so happy. But I’m somewhat confused. Wasn’t that young man your boyfriend, dear?’

      And there it was. The jugular. ‘Yes, he was, but it was never serious. James and Chloe make a much better couple than James and I ever did.’

      ‘Yes, well, I suppose beautiful people do tend to gravitate towards each other.’

      Ouch!

      She patted my arm again, making the hairs stand on end. ‘Still, there’s plenty more fish in the sea, as they say. I’m sure you’ll find someone more on your level eventually.’ I swear she was chuckling to herself when she sidled away.

      ‘Who was that?’ Hannah asked when I flung myself down beside her and released an exasperated growl.

      ‘My Great-Aunt Agnes,’ I muttered, curling my lip up and exaggerating a shudder.

      ‘Oh. I wondered if it might be her. I take it from your reaction that she was being her usual delightful self?’

      ‘Of course. Straight in there with a comment about James being my ex and out of my league.’

      Hannah winced. ‘I hope you ignored her.’

      ‘If only. She always seems to have some killer insult which she hurls at me like a grenade before walking off leaving me picking up the pieces. I wish I could think of a good comeback but I always go blank.’

      ‘You don’t need one. Rise above it. If she gets her kicks out of making other people feel small, that’s her problem, not yours. She’s clearly full of crap.’

      ‘I know she is, but she manages to get to me every time. It probably wouldn’t bother me if she was like that with everyone but she isn’t. Chloe’s always been the golden girl and I’ve been the one she can’t stand but I don’t know why.’

      ‘Families, eh?’ She rubbed her hands in circular motions over her baby bump as she rolled her eyes. ‘So, how are you holding up?’

      ‘I’m good. It was a lovely service.’

      ‘It was, but that’s not what I asked you.’ Her tone softened and she gave me a sympathetic look. ‘Your heart was breaking all the way through it, wasn’t it?’

      I looked down and brushed some imaginary fluff off my dress. ‘I’m fine. It’s ancient history and, like I said to you before, it was never serious anyway.’

      Hannah linked her arm through mine and gently pulled me to her side. ‘Don’t insult our friendship by pretending you were never in love with him and, if I’m not mistaken, still are.’

      I relaxed against her and sighed. ‘I’ve just had this conversation with my dad. Is it that obvious?’

      ‘Only to the people who love you as much as we do. I was never convinced by that friends having a bit of fun crap but you were so adamant that’s all it was that