Текст книги "After Forever Ends "

Автор книги: Melodie Ramone

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 39 страниц)

“A doctor.”

“Yes, a doctor. Where is the Boy from the Olive Tree?”

Another pause. “I can get to the lad in time, Folia, but he’s too far to aid the Silver Miss! He‘s going the wrong way!”

“Then get the Doppelganger!”

“Aye, I should have thought of him! Forgive me! He is not far. I will bring the Doppelganger as soon as I can! Will you stay with the Silver Miss? She looks so unwell.”

“I will do what I can, But go, Copse! Go now!”

I heard another pop, louder this time, the sound you would hear when someone pulls the cork out of a bottle of champagne. I felt my body roll. I was on my back.

I remember their conversation as clear as the day I heard it. I couldn’t see them, mind you, I was staring at a cobalt blue sky, but I heard every word they said. Their voices were tiny, but strong, and strangely distant, yet seemed so very near.

“Ohhhhh,” Said the woman, “Now, Young Silver Miss,” She came close to me. I could feel her warmth against my cheek, “I know little of humans, but I do know now what is happening to you,” I swear I could hear a baby crying, “And I know if what is happening to your boon was happening to mine, I would not want to be witness to it. I regret, I regret! I cannot help your boon, Young Silver Miss. Here upon us comes Death…”

“No!” I tried to scream, “No!”

“Death has no ears and no eyes, but he is not here for you…it’s your boon. Her life spilled out on to the grass with your blood…”

“No! Not my muffin! I never knew! I never knew I had one! I didn’t have a chance to love her! No! Death, you may not have my child! No! Go back to where you came and leave my baby alone!”

“It is too late,” The Lady said gently, “In a second he’ll take her away, but take peace because his arms are gentle. You fight so hard for a boon you never knew was. Oh, so sad. So sad is the mother who cannot protect her own child from Death. There is only one thing I can do for you, Silver Miss. I know your name and I will speak for you words of power. All I can do…”

“No!” I knew my baby had gone. I could breathe again, but the pain was terrible. I could feel the blood run down from between my legs, soaking the seat of my knickers. Rain splashed against my face. I screamed at Death, “No! Bring her back! She’s mine! You bring my baby back! I need to love her!”

I heard The Lady’s voice again, resolute:

“By the power of three,

I call upon the winds that touch the trees!

Peace be with the child who left before her,

Let sleep conquer the mother’s horror

This thing I ask, this spell is cast!

And so mote it be!”

I heard a loud clap and I fell into complete blackness.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I was floating. Not flying, because I was on my back, but floating. It was very warm where I was, but I could not see anything around me. I could hear murmurs, whispers. I could feel people touching me gently. I knew that Oliver was there, floating with me, up above my head. I could feel his hands on either side of my temples. His fingertips caressed my cheeks.

“No, no,” He said, “She’s a strong one… she’s a rock…”

“I feel awful…” It was Alex, “If only I’d thought of going there sooner…if I’d known…thought she was dead…so much blood…”

“Feel awful?” Oliver sounded almost angry, “Not you, I should…told me she wasn’t feeling well…said her belly hurt…that she was dizzy…” His words were hanging in the air and then disappearing, not at all like full sentences. I struggled to open my eyes, “…you saved her…so much stress…I yelled at her…was very cruel…she didn’t deserve…just haven’t been there like I should be…left her all alone last night…gone all day…she could have been there for hours… promised her…I swore… never leave her alone…must have been in so much pain…I wasn’t there…and now…just lying there…”

“You have to work…finish school…owe her a future…a life, Oliver…”

Suddenly their voices were very clear.

“A life, Alexander? A life! She is my life! She’s everything to me! Without her it just doesn’t matter! Nothing works without her! She’s all I’ve ever known! She’s the only woman I’ll ever love!”

“She’s gonna be fine, Oliver! Look at her! Sleeping like she’s got a spell cast upon her! She’s been through the worst!”

“She’s still got to wake up! Oh, God in Heaven, Alex, what would I do if I lost her?”

“You didn’t lose her! Pull it together! She’s alive and the doctor says she’ll be just fine!”

I could hear him crying. Oliver crying.

Oh no! Oliver!

I tried to reach for him, but I couldn’t move. My arms were like lead weights, immobile. I’d never seen my Oliver cry. I’d never seen him sad. I didn’t want him to cry because of me. I was there, I was fine. I had to let him know. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t.

Oh, Oliver, don’t cry…I’m all right…please…

But he did. I heard him sob and I couldn’t do a thing to comfort him.

“Come on now! Oliver, stop! She’s going to wake up! They sedated her is all! When we got here she was confused! She was talking nonsense and fighting the nurses! Oliver! Come here,” Alexander’s voice was gentle. I could hear a rustle of clothing beside me as if Alex had taken his brother into an embrace, “She’s going to be fine, Big brother. She’ll be fine.”

The room went quiet again. I fell into blackness. I was floating.

I felt a pinch in the back of my hand. I was suddenly aware that there were tubes plugged into an IV, all attached to a vein in me. I could once again hear pieces of conversations.

“…I feel so guilty…”

“…not your fault, Son…” Edmond’s voice, “Thank God…someone up there was looking …your brother was listening…”

“So odd, really…” Alex sounded like he was speaking from a within a dream, “...just knew I had to get there and fast…kept thinking Sil’s all alone and she needs something…seemed so urgent…”

I fell into blackness. I was floating.

I could hear movement, a chair being rolled across a floor. My shirt was pushed up, my belly felt wet and cold. Something slick and round was pressing against it. A man was speaking, “I’m sorry. There’s no heartbeat.”

“Are you certain?” Oliver asked. He was holding my hand.

“Yes. I’m absolutely certain.”

“The baby’s dead then?”

“I am so sorry.” The object left my belly.

“How far along were we?” Oliver’s voice was hardly a whisper.

“I would say about fifteen or sixteen weeks.”

“Oh, Christ!” It was Alexander, “Why?”

“Please,” Oliver whispered, “Explain why this happened.”

“I don‘t know,” The man speaking was wiping my belly with a towel. He pulled my shirt back down and it stuck to the goo that was left, “The placenta has separated from the uterine wall. It happens, but almost never this early in pregnancy,” He sounded far too casual, almost as if he were reading off a card. “There are many factors that can lead to miscarriage in the first and early second trimesters. We’ll have to run some tests to find out for certain, but chances are that no one could have done anything to prevent this. Spontaneous abortions occur in about twenty percent of pregnancies. They might even be more common earlier on and women just associate the bleeding with their normal cycles. In your wife’s case, this was a medical event,” I managed to open my eyes just a crack. I could see a doctor standing to my right, speaking to the twins. A nurse was preparing a large syringe. “We’ve got the bleeding under control, but her body hasn’t expelled the fetus.”

“I want my wife to be well. What do I have to do to make her well?”

“We need to induce dilation and expel the fetus.”

Oliver swayed on his feet. Alexander steadied him. “What does he need to do? “ Alex asked, holding his brother tight against his side.

“He needs to sign the consent forms.”

“Fine,” Oliver’s voice was just over a whisper, “Get them. Let’s do it now.”

“I’ll have the nurse get them.”

Oliver looked sincerely ill, “Will she give birth then? “

“She’ll have to, yes. “

“Will she be awake?”

“She’s only lightly sedated.”

“Put her out,” Oliver said flatly, “Put her out cold. I don’t want her to feel any pain. I don’t want her to know what’s happening to her.”

“That can be done.”

“I want to be with her.”

“You can do that. You do understand that it will be a still birth? “

“I understand.”

The nurse injected something into my IV line. I fell back into blackness. I was floating.

A growl, a gurgle…it was a machine. There were bright lights and voices. Something hot was pressing on the inside of my thigh. I could feel pain, pain in my abdomen. Horrible pressure in my bottom. I gagged, trying not to vomit. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. I could feel fingers. Someone was touching me down there. That sound I heard was suction. They’d put some sort of vacuum inside of me and they were drawing out my baby.

“No, no!” I thought desperately, gagging, “Wake up, Silvia! Wake up! It’s a nightmare, it’s a bad dream! Wake up! “I tried to move my fingers, tried to shake my head, “It hurts! Oh, ouch! Ouch! Help me! Oliver! Oliver! Oliver, help me!”

He was holding my hand. The IV in my arm jerked as he leaped to his feet. “Something’s wrong! She’s moving! She’s awake! Help her!”

I opened my eyes. I clasped and unclasped my hands, but I couldn’t move my arms. I looked at Oliver, desperately at Oliver, but all I could see was a shadow of him, a blurred outline of his figure. I tasted vomit in my throat, gagged harder, more painfully, and realised I was choking. I still couldn’t move my arms. I felt my body convulse, lift up off the mattress and slam back down. Oliver shouted again, but I couldn’t hear what he said through the blood rushing through my ears. I was helpless. All I could do was gag and jerk and lie in that awful bed.

Someone turned my head to the side and held it down. “Clear the airway!”

“Damn it!” Oliver shouted, “I said help her!”

A tube slipped into my mouth. More gurgling. I made a grab for it, wanting to shove it away from me. Someone else held my shoulders. I closed my eyes and tried to scream, but I only choked more. A nurse streaked around the bed and took the IV line into her hand. She held down a plunger and I felt my body go slack. I tumbled back into blackness. Then I was floating.

A voice said, “She’ll rest a while longer. There doesn’t appear to be any lasting damage.”

“Will she be able to have more children?” It was Ana who asked.

“She’ll be able to conceive just as she did before the miscarriage. This sort of thing doesn‘t typically repeat itself.”

“She’ll be fine then?” Oliver’s voice was trembling.

“We’re going to keep her overnight. She should be out from under the sedative in a couple of hours. She should be on her feet by the morning. We’ll see how she feels.”

“Thank God! Thank sweet, sweet God!” Edmond said it.

There was relief in Alex’s voice. “You can breathe easy now, Ol.”

“We all can,” Oliver smoothed my hair with his hand and kissed my forehead, “Thank you so much, Sir. I couldn’t lose my Sil. She’s the whole world to me.”

They were all there with me, the Dickinson’s. My family. I felt a tear catch in the corner of my eye and hang there, but I was unable to cry. I wanted to thank them all for coming, to thank them all for loving me as one of their own, but I still couldn’t even open my eyes. I wanted to let them know how much they meant to me. No one had ever loved me but them, no one but them and my Oliver.

Oliver kissed me again. I wanted to tell him about the conversations I had heard. I wanted to lie in his arms and cry until I couldn’t cry anymore. There were so many things that I wanted to tell him and I just couldn’t. I wanted to tell him that he had been right, the Lord and the Lady were kind. I wanted to tell him that they saved me, that it was the Lord who went and got Alex. I wanted to tell him what their names were. I wanted to tell him about the tree I was talking to and about Aflie being there and about the cobalt blue sky. I wanted to tell him what I had learned that day about life and how close Death had been and how he had not been there for me, but I tried to fight him anyway. I wanted to tell him that I would have fought Death for our baby. I would have torn him apart before I allowed him to take her, but Lady Folia had put me to sleep because she knew I’d fail, because she knew I had no chance against him.

It was all real. Life, elves, muffins and death…it was all real. And I understood none of it. Not a thing of any of it, but it was still real and it was beautiful and it was savage and I hated what had happened, but I loved my life. I loved my life because of him, because he was in it. I wanted to tell him that I remembered what Headmistress Pennyweather had said and that I still knew what it was I first saw that made me love him. I wanted to tell him that we were going to be all right and that we were going to get through it together, just like always. He didn’t need to worry about me. I wasn’t going anywhere, not today and not tomorrow. I’d never leave him.

It was a long time later, but I finally opened my eyes. Oliver was sitting beside me with his head down and his hand hanging over the rail of my bed. I reached out for him and put my fingers against his.

“Sil?” He practically jumped, “Oh, Love, it’s so good to see those beautiful blue eyes!”

I tried to speak, but I don’t know what I said. I finally just put my hand on the back of his head and I pulled him down. I kissed him for a long time, one kiss without breaking contact with his lips, “I’m not hurt,” I finally tried to say, but my voice was a hoarse whisper, “Or ticked off…I’m Just Silvia and I’m just fine and I love you…”

“Silvia,” His voice was shaky. His beautiful brown eyes were swollen and bloodshot behind tears, “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up! I’m so sorry, Love! I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me…”

“It wasn’t you. It was me. I did something wrong! I put a wrong something in the batter and I spoiled the muffin and it died…” I shook my head tried to pull myself together so I could say what I meant instead of blathering like a fool. “I didn’t know or I wouldn’t have done it!”

“Silvia, they gave you loads of drugs. You’re not making any sense, Love. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, no! Listen to me!” I clung to his hand.

“I’m listening, Sweetheart.”

“I never told you. I never told you how much I wanted a child, but I did. I told the wood and the winds and I told the Lord and Lady. I told them everything, but I didn’t tell you that I wanted to have your baby so badly. I wanted something that was you and me all in one…magic…I wanted to make muffin magic…” I was struggling to speak. I could hear my words slurring. My eyes kept closing. I fought to make any sense at all, “You don’t know how much I love you or how much I need you. I love you, Oliver, and I love our baby, but I didn’t even know she was there and–”

“Shush, Love, shush…I know.”

“Please don’t hate me, because I don’t know what I did wrong! I tried! I tried, but I couldn’t stop Death from taking the baby! Her life had already spilled out with my blood onto the grass!”

“Sweetheart, stop it! Hate you? No, Silvia, no,” He took my hand in both of his and pressed it to his lips, “I’ve been so worried about you! When Alexander found you he said you were asleep. He thought you were having a kip, he said you looked so peaceful in the rain that he almost laughed. And then he went to wake you and he saw all the blood…you gave him a fright, Love. You gave us all such a fright.”

“But we had a baby!”

“I know about the baby. And I’m sorry, but, yes, she’s gone. I got to see her. I got to hold her. She was so beautiful. Tiny. I could hold her in one hand…” He held his hand palm up and stared at it.

“Do you want one? Did you want that one?” My head was lolling from side to side. “I’m so sorry about her…”

“Silvia, don’t be sorry! You’ve done nothing wrong! I want a baby someday. Sure. With you? A little muffin? Oh, yeah. And if I’d had a choice none of this would have happened and we’d be out picking a cradle for the one that’s gone now,” He looked so earnest it was breaking my heart. A tear was clinging to the tip of his nose, “But more than that I want you. Alive and well. Don’t you understand that I can’t live without you? Don’t you know that I couldn’t get through a day knowing that I was going to come home and you wouldn’t be there?” He sniffed and the tear fell, “I can’t even tell you how much I love you because there are no words…and this… this was just a bad something that happened, Love. It’s the worst something that has ever happened to us, but it’s not the worst thing that could have. Alexander might not have had the thought to drop in on you and you could have lay in that garden and bled to death in the rain. I could’ve lost you!”

“Another bad something happened, Sweetheart.”

“What was that?”

“I killed the good chicken with my car on my way to school.”

He laughed. A tear rolled down the back of my hand as he kissed my knuckles, “I don’t care about any chickens! I care about my wife! We can get more chickens if we like!”

“I lost our baby!” I cried out and, dizzy, fell back on to the bed. Oliver helped steady me, “She died! I saw the blood! Loads and loads of blood! Lady Folia said it was too late! Death has no eyes and no ears, but I yelled at him, I did! I told him to piss off, I did! But there was nothing I could do! Not a thing and I could hear a baby howling and I wasn’t for sure it was ours, it could have been the boon, but Lady Folia didn’t want me to have the experience of losing mine, so she asked the winds to make me sleep…”

“Lady Folia?”

“It’s her name. The Lady of the Wood.” I told him, trying to lift my head, “And the Lord, his name is Lord Copse.”

“Oh, OK,” He said this like he already knew.

“Oliver…they’re real. And you were right, they’re very kind. It’s all real, Sweetie. Life, muffins, The Lord and Lady, the Wood, the winds and Death…I heard them all! I saw Death coming and he made everything a beautiful, terrible blue and I didn’t understand a thing! They were all bigger than me, all the bigger and the stronger of me and I couldn’t even move!”

“OK, Sil. OK. Please settle down! It’s done, Love. It’s done and you’re safe now. ”

“I want a dog!” I wailed suddenly, veering completely off the subject. Oliver grinned. “If I can’t have my muffin, I want a dog! Can we get one?”

“Yes, Love. Oh, yes. Two if you like.”

“No, just the one. I want a Scottish Terrier.”

“OK.”

“And if it’s a girl I want to call her Ivy and if it’s a boy I want to call him Duncan.”

“Of course,” He was laughing softly. He kissed me on the lips, “Whatever you like.”

“And someday, Oliver…someday when it’s right and my body says yes again, I want to make a baby with you,” I was falling asleep “A whole bunch, a basket of muffins…chocolate dipped cherry muffins with a surprise inside that makes each one just who they are…very special muffins, each and every one. I love you, Oliver and I want to bake you muffins…”

“Close your eyes, Love, and go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake.”

“OK. Then when I’m awake, go get me a puppy.” I was incredibly tired, “If I can’t have a muffin then I want a dog…a Scottish one…Scottish like me. And he’ll need a leash. I can’t have him dashing off and getting killed liked the chicken,” My head fell to the side and off my pillow. I was almost asleep before I remembered, “Oh! Do me a favour?”

“Yes?”

“Go and get a wee rattle, the nicest you can find, and put it in the circle for me. Tell Lady Folia and Lord Copse it’s to celebrate their boon and to say thank you. They saved my life, Oliver. I think Alfie got them for me. I’m not sure, but Lady Folia took care of me and Lord Copse fetched Alex. Don’t you think that they didn’t.”

“I know they did. I’ll get you anything you want, Silvia. Absolutely anything you want.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

If someone had told me the day I lost our daughter that happy times would ever come again, I’d have called that person a liar. But they wouldn’t have been lying at all. Headmistress Pennyweather had told us that life could be cruel and downright ugly, but if we kept looking for the thing that made us first know we loved the other and kept finding it, there was nothing we could not get through together. Sometimes things happen in a marriage and those things are big enough to either tear a couple apart or make them ten times as strong. Oliver and I kept searching each other’s eyes when things got tough or ugly. Sometimes it took a little effort, but we always found that spark in each other that we could ignite back into our original passion. We took time for each other. We took time to listen, we took time to care and we took time to let the other one know that they were still top in our heart. Because of that we were stronger than anything that could ever come our way.

I was able to hold our baby later after I’d come round again. She was so tiny, as Ollie had said. She weighed in at nine ounces and was only seven and a half inches long. She was whiter than snow and smooth as silk. She had all ten fingers and all ten toes. She had little round eyes and a bump for a nose, delicate, sweet lips and perfect, minuscule ears. She looked like a real baby, no different from any other I’d seen except her skin was so thin that all her many veins were visible. I stared at her as I rocked her in my arms. I wasn’t able to weep. I just held her for a long while knowing that I would never be able to do it again. I wondered about her, what she would have been like. I would never know. I would never know how her smile would have looked or hear the sound of her laugh. I wondered what colour eyes she had beneath those sealed lids, what shade her hair might have been had it been able to grow. I held her to my breast and I whispered to her promises only mothers make to children. I told her how much I loved her and how sorry I was that I’d not been able to protect her. I only had a while to prove my love to a child I was going to have to give away too soon.

“Mum wants to know,” Oliver whispered later when I was almost ready to let her go, “If you’d like a picture of her.”

I looked down into that tiny, beautiful face and I shook my head. I didn’t need a picture. I’d never forget her. She was going to be a part of me forever.

I let the nurse take our daughter away. She did it with such loving hands. I never told her how much I appreciated that and I should have. Even in death that child was treated with nothing but gentleness and respect. In that way, maybe she was the luckiest of us all.

I went home two days later in a daze. The only thing that made me know that any of it was real or had actually happened was that my heart ached and the pain kept me from sleep and food. There was no laughter in the cabin. Oliver and I barely spoke. The doctor had warned us not to try to conceive for a while and had given me a prescription for contraceptives, which I threw in the rubbish bin on the way out. I knew he meant well, but in my mind the chances of me getting pregnant again so quickly were astronomical. The other thought was that after what I had gone through with losing our baby there was absolutely no way that I was going to destroy another. No, nature was going to do what it would do and I was going to allow it to happen.

Then there was the business of having a funeral. I might have just had her buried quietly and kept her memory all to myself, but it was important to Oliver that her life be validated. I had been unconscious when he’d filled out the birth and death certificates for our child. Not having any idea of what we would have called her if she’d been born alive, he simply wrote “Cara”, a Welsh name for “Beloved”, on the line for her name.

Our precious Cara’s short life was honoured on a sunny Friday morning. When we first got to the funeral parlour, Oliver and I walked in and went straight to the casket. We wrapped our arms around each other and stood alone before the coffin and stared in numb disbelief. Then we sat together on a single, metal folding chair and we held tight to each other, knowing if we didn’t one of us would fall to the ground. Neither of us sobbed, we just clung until we could rise and then we turned our backs to the casket and greeted our guests with hugs and handshakes.

They filed in one by one. Some sombre, some forcing smiles, all of them trying to support us through something that we didn't completely understand. Oliver and I held hands and soldiered through as the line grew longer and longer, trying not to remember that that tiny box was the only bed our daughter would ever know.

“I won’t let you go, “He whispered.

“Never," I responded as I squeezed his hand tighter.

“It’s just me and you, Sil," He didn’t look at me. He stared straight ahead, his eyes focused on something I couldn’t see. I watched the muscle in his jaw tighten. He turned his head slowly and showed me his face. The light caught his dark eyes.

“I love you,” I whispered. He said nothing. There was nothing to say. I watched tears well up in his eyes and I watched him blink them back. He looked away. I just stood with him and shared his shock and sorrow while the world we knew crumbled around us. Helpless, we let it fall.

Alexander made no secret of his sadness or his tears, nor did he shy from opening the lid of the coffin and placing his hands inside. He cradled his niece with his fingers. He kissed her tiny head, marvelled at how perfect she was, and whispered to her in Welsh for a long time. No one interrupted him. No one suggested that he hurry or stop. No one told him to close the lid. He was given his time to say his hello and goodbye all at once. When he was through, he sat at the right side of his brother and he took my sister under his arm. He did what he could to comfort Lucy through her grief. I watched him wipe her face with the sleeve of his suit, saw him kiss the top of her strawberry coloured hair and rock her in his arms. I thanked God that he was there to do for her what I absolutely could not. I was frozen in my shoes, unable to reach out to anyone but my husband. I kept digging my fingernails into my skin to check if I were dreaming.

Lance sat in the back of the room with Josh McGuigan and Gareth Hughes, a boy Oliver used to play rugby against from Kerry. Loads of people came. It was truly amazing how many people cared. None of them said much to us. There was no need. They were there. It was all that mattered. My father came to call later in the day. He drew me close in what was supposed to be a fatherly way, but I was too stiff in his arms and he let me go.

“I'm so sorry, Silvia,” He said sincerely, cupping my face in his dry hands. He brushed the hair from my shoulder, “Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?”

“No,” I answered him simply, looking a little too hard into his eyes. I was so angry with him. I was his daughter. I was his healthy, living, breathing daughter and he’d sent me away, sent me off to school like I was some rubbish he hadn’t the time to deal with. My daughter was dead. My daughter had been torn away from me before I had the chance to even know her. How dare he come now and try to be my father when he’d had every chance before and passed them by?

He knew I was angry with him. He's known I was angry with him for years, but he'd never worked out why. If he had taken the time to look at himself, really look at himself, maybe he would have seen me there, lurking, begging for the attention I never got from him. If he had taken the time to notice, maybe he would have seen he had a daughter who once loved him with all of her heart, but didn't need him at all now. He'd never been there when I did and I'd learned to care for myself. Even in this chaos, even in all of my pain and suffering, his daughter, me, didn't need him. And not only did I not need him, I didn't want him. It was too little too late.

He said nothing else to me, but turned to Oliver instead. Oliver, in his kind way, put his hand on my father's shoulder and squeezed it, “There's nothing you can do,” He said simply, “Thank you for being here. Lucy's quite torn up, though.”

Dad nodded. He seemed relieved to be set free and hurried over to Lucy, who made a loud huffing noise when she saw him and fell into his embrace.

“Good,” I thought, “They can take care of each other and leave me to my business.”

I hid my face in the coat of Oliver’s suit.

Dad lingered awhile, but he left later without saying goodbye.

Oliver’s entire family including aunts, uncles, his ancient Gran, and all of his cousins came by in sets. Most of his cousins were near our age and they all had little ones. They’d dressed them in clothes fit for Easter and held on to their little hands, worried that their presence would bother us. Oliver told them no and to let them run about.

“Let them do what Cara never will,” He told his cousins, Karenna, who by then had a boy and a girl who were toddling about, and her brother, Mike, whose son, Rhys, was getting into everything he could reach. “Let them play.”

Ana scolded Rhys when he stood on his toes and leaned against the casket with his hands to smell the flowers.

“Don’t touch that!” She screeched and made to slap his shoulder, but Oliver leaned back and touched her arm.

“It’s all right, Mum,” He said quietly, shaking his head. He pulled one of the flowers from the spray and handed it to Rhys, “Here, Lad. Take this one and leave the rest, yeah?” He didn’t smile, but his voice was soothing. He looked back at Ana, “Mum, it’s all right. Really. None of this is what anyone wanted. It’s just what it is. He‘s a child. Let him do as a child does.”

Ana fell silent. She nodded and sank into a chair. I watched Eddie take her under his arm as she began to cry. Oliver looked away.

There is nothing more terrible in this world than a coffin made for a baby. By the time the service was done, the casket was filled with plush little stuffed animals, a rattle, some plastic rings, a book of nursery rhymes, even an empty bottle, a jar of strained peas, and a silver spoon. . It haunts me still, the sight of that delicate, rose pink box laid on a slab of white marble like some sacrifice on a pearl polished alter, covered in beautiful flowers so it could barely be seen.