Chapter Two Continues…

Part Two

Utterly confused by the morning’s events Judi returned to bed, a fresh cup of coffee in hand that she had had to make for herself.   She was so angry with her husband right now.  The morning routine gave her a deep sense of security and it was how she knew, thought she knew, that he loved her.  The little kiss on the cheek was the only intimacy they had these days, but it made her smile on the inside.  And today he had taken all of that away from her.

She picked up her phone and pressed the speed dial button to call her husband.

Less than two metres away his mobile vibrated on his bedside cabinet.

“For F…”

——————————————————————————————————————————

In a cerise knitted jumper and a black A-line skirt, Phillip sat in his car.  He was back to his original spot now and once again staring out to the sea.

It was still early so there weren’t many people around.  A few dog walkers and a couple of joggers was all he could see.

More people running for the bus he thought.  Maybe they’ll catch it today too.

He realised his breathing had gotten a bit faster, his heart was racing.  Twenty-threes in that relationship and he’s just walked out of it.  Was this it?  This wasn’t him, or maybe it was.  He didn’t know right now.  He should call her.  She’d be worried.  He didn’t want to.  It felt like the right thing to do.

He hadn’t picked up his phone.  Shit!

His breathing got even faster.  Tears came to his eyes, and in one moment, like a volcano losing the battle against the rising magma, he erupted.  All of his pain, all of his sadness, his last twenty-three years of lying made their way out of his body.  The noise was unlike anything he had ever heard himself make before.  It was out of his control.  Was this a wail?  He wasn’t sure.  It shook his whole body.  It shook the whole car.

After what felt like an eternity, but was in reality less than 8 minutes he had stopped.  He was able to release his grip on the steering wheel and slump back in to the chair.  Silent again. He caught sight of himself in the rear view mirror.  His eyes looked like he had bled in to them, and the skin around them was so puffy.  

The last time Phillip cried anything like this he was just 17.  

He was leaving for work.  His first job, and he was driving there in his first car having recently passed his test.  He was a proper grown up now.   As he unlocked the car door two men turned from the street and approached him.

“Morning” the taller one spoke.  It was a gentle morning, not in anyway aggressive and Phillip relaxed.

“Hi” he said back.   Before he could say anything more the men introduced themselves, held out their I.D. cards and began to talk to him.  Phillip listened intently. 

His parents were away on holiday for the week and had hired his grandparents to come and babysit him whilst they were out of town.  Unlike most teenagers, he didn’t mind.  He loved his grandparents.  He also knew it wasn’t to babysit, it was to ensure he didn’t have any parties or trash the house.  

From behind the net curtain his Gran was watching.  She dunked her Rich Tea biscuit in to her morning brew and devoured it quickly before it got the chance to ruin her cardigan. She was preparing to call her husband incase these men were going to cause trouble.  But then something happened, and her maternal instinct kicked in.  She placed her cup down and watched as Phillip staggered backwards from his car, just a couple of small steps.  

One of the men reached out a hand, but Phillip turned to walk away.  She saw his face.  His eyes.  She would never unsee that look on his face.  His knees gave way under him and he fell to the ground.

One of the men stepped forward and crouched down towards him, the other was already on his way to the house.  By the time he had reached it the door was already open and Phillip’s Gran was storming down the path.  Within seconds he felt the coarseness her burgundy cardigan against his face as she enveloped him in her bosom.   “I’ve got you”. She said. “I’ve got you.”

She looked over at the man opposite, she saw his police badge.  She could see in his eyes he was a kind man and clearly worried about her grandson.  She turned her attention to Phillip.  She gently lifted his head so that he was facing her and could see her eyes.  He was trembling and pale.  The only two words he could mutter to her were “Chloe’s dead.”

There were no more words that day, and no tears at all.  For two whole weeks he barely spoke at all and he didn’t shed a single tear.   There was just silence.  “He’s in shock” people would say about him to each other.

Even at the funeral he just sat staring. Had any of this sunk in?  His mum squeezed his hand gently.  He didn’t respond.

The coffin came past and made it’s way to the front.  He didn’t look at it.  He couldn’t look at it. It wasn’t real.

The hymns were sung by everyone around him.

The eulogies were read out by people who seemed to barely know her.

He still just stared.

The curtains started to close and the coffin was lowered out of site.  People stood and started filing out.  The sobs of Chloe’s immediate family could be heard as they exited the crematorium.

Phillip did not move.  His mum didn’t rush him.   She looked over to see the vicar who looked back and gave one of those smiles that only people of the cloth can give. 

Silence.

“I’m not going to see her again.” He eventually said.

“No, love” his mum said softly back, holding his hand tighter.

“I’m not going to see her ever again.”

“Phillip, I…”

“I wan’t to see her but I can’t can I?”

There was a moments pause.  Then he slowly lifted his head and looked straight at his mum.  She saw then as clear as anything in his eyes, her sons heart being torn to pieces. 

“I’m never going to see her again, mum.  I’m never going to see her again.  I’m never going to see her again…Mum.  Mum.  I won’t see her ever again…”

Now the tears were pouring from his stinging eyes, he hoped his mum would tell him he was wrong.  She knew what he wanted and she couldn’t give it to him.  Her heart was breaking too.

“I’m never going to see her again.”  He repeated.  He kept saying it.  He didn’t want to believe it.

She pulled him close to her and held him so tight.  So tight she might have broken every bone in his body.  They sat there for atleast ten minutes, maybe more as he uncontrollably cried and screamed those words into his mother’s body.  Every part of her absorbing his pain. He was gasping for breath in between each cry.  His pain was raw, it felt so big.  He didn’t think it would ever not hurt like this.  He didn’t know if he would be able to stop.

And then a soft voice spoke from him.

“Don’t be sad any more.  You’ll find peace that God has taken her to a better place.  A place where she won’t feel any more pain.”

His mother felt his body stiffen.  The sobbing stopped abruptly.  

Before anyone got the chance to react, Phillip had stood up and faced the vicar. 

“Fuck your God!  Your pathetic, cruel little God.  He’s supposed to take the worst of humanity, punish people for their crimes and their sins.  So why would he take Chloe.  Why would he take someone who was so happy.  Someone who was so kind, so beautiful.  Why would he take her and not the fucking scumbag that killed her?  Fuck him…”

The vicar started to speak, to try and calm him down but was cut short by a sudden “No!” From behind her.

Chloe’s mother stood there now.  She looked at Phillip.  He could see her pain too and realised he wasn’t alone.  She gave a nod toward him, she felt his pain too. Her daughter’s secret crush who she knew everything about, how kind he was, how good he was. She turned her gaze to the vicar.  “He’s right.  I mean, it was a lovely service vicar, but Phillip’s right.  Fuck your God!”

That had been the last time he’d shed a tear.  It was also the first time he’d every sworn infront of or directly at an adult, let alone a priest.

This memory lived in Phillip and had never gone away.  For 34 years he had missed the one friend who he had confided in, ever.  The one friend he thought he’d grow old and naughty with.  He missed her still.  These days though that memory raised a smile, watching her mum say those words to that vicar, well, it couldn’t not bring a smile.


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