Three weeks later and it still hasn’t sunk in.
I stare at myself in the mirror and no longer recognise the person looking back at me. The woman I am now wears a haunted expression. She no longer laughs and she cries—a lot. Her appearance is no longer of any consequence because she doesn’t care about anything anymore. But today is different. Today she has pulled out all the stops for him—Anton. Today is his day. I will walk behind him proudly and with love. I need to be strong and be the woman he would be proud of because today is Anton’s funeral.
The body has finally been released and we can now bury him with as much finesse as possible because he deserves it.
I will walk behind his coffin through the many mourners who are sure to fill the church and surrounding area. I will put on a brave face because I know they will all be looking for the cracks, of which there are many.
The last three weeks have been the worst of my life and I’ve been lucky to have my friends and family by my side through it all. Anton’s family also stayed with me and proved to be amazing throughout. His parents treated me like the daughter-in-law I aspired to be, and his sister has proved an easy listener. We have spoken long into the night about a man we all loved, and I couldn’t have made it through the last three weeks without them.
Anton’s club and agent stepped up and organised everything. They liaised with the police and the press and allowed me to grieve for the man I love. Nobody has said one bad word to me or insinuated that my time here is done because I know it probably is. Anton and I weren’t married and so his estate will fall to his next of kin, his parents. I’m prepared for that and it’s how it should be. No, I wasn’t here for the money; I was here for love and now that love has gone, I must go too.
I make my way to the waiting black car and swallow hard as I see the flower-strewn hearse waiting patiently outside. It’s hard to see the coffin, picturing the lifeless body of the man I love inside when he should be next to me. Fate is a cruel bitch because she has hit hard. Anton didn’t deserve to die and despite the murmurs of murder, there was no evidence of that effect. There has been no resolution to something that should never have happened in the first place. The investigation is ongoing, but that can wait because today is Anton’s day and I will not let him down.
It’s hard facing the hundreds of people waiting and watching.
It’s hard walking behind the body of the man you love who you will no longer touch, smell, and hear his voice.
It’s so hard listening to that man being spoken about with many kind, emotional words and it’s hard watching his body lowered into the cold ground because we were not allowed to cremate him.
However, the hardest thing of all is leaving him there as we walk away. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust are what face us all. Anton will become a valuable memory because there will be no future to speak of. As I move on with my life, he cannot. I’ve no doubt I will recover. I’m a survivor and will start again somewhere else, but there’s an important part of me that lies with Anton in that grave—my heart.
By the time the last person leaves, I am exhausted. Anton’s mother and father found the day as hard as expected and have gone to bed. His sister cleared up and then also turned in and my family left at my request. Now I’m sitting in Anton’s dressing room, holding one of his favourite tops, crying like never before. He’s gone, and this is all I have left of him. Soon I will need to pack my own things and walk away from a life I loved. However, what’s the point of staying anyway if he’s not here?
I think I must sit hugging his top for a good hour before reluctantly I stand to go to bed. As I replace his top, I notice something shining in the corner of the shelf and reach for it carefully. It’s a phone and I wonder why it’s here. It’s an old one, not the up to date one he had and so my curiosity gets the better of me and I sit down again and turn it on.
The phone comes to life but is password protected. The curiosity is burning me up inside because this phone is fully charged, which strikes me as odd because it means he kept it that way. Thinking of all possible passwords he could use, I finally hit on the one he used for his computer, Fleur2019, the year we met.
My heart hammers as the screen bursts into life and I start to scroll through it. I don’t know why but I go immediately to the texts and register only one number. In fact, there is only one contact listed - Sunny. My heart thumps as I scroll through the texts and I feel sick at the content. These texts are disgusting and pornographic and I am disgusted when I see the lewd remarks swimming in front of my eyes. Disgusting words that must have come from someone else because this can’t be Anton’s phone. Whoever owns it is sick and twisted because the things they describe are surely illegal.
My hands shake as I read text after text and the bile rises in my throat as I read every word. By the time I reach the last one, I’m convinced this isn’t Anton’s phone. How could it be? He would never say words like this. He must have found it, or been keeping it for a friend—but who?
Then my attention turns to the photographs and I wish I never found it because as I scroll through the images, my heart breaks all over again. It’s him–them–together.
Like a car crash unfolding around me, I look at every one. I play the videos and retch into the waste bin. I hear the sounds all around as I bring everything up because those images are far worse than seeing Anton lying in that pool. The face in these photographs is a familiar one and to say I’m shocked is an understatement. How did I not know about this?
Two days later
Mr Harris clears his throat and looks around the room with a grave expression, and I stare at a small piece of fluff on the carpet and prepare myself for what’s about to happen.
I am sitting in the front row of a group of chairs with Anton’s parents beside me. His sister and a couple of close friends are behind us and we all look at the solicitor with expectation. He has before him the last Will and Testament of Anton Richardson and I’m not expecting to be mentioned in it at all.
I was asked to attend by Mr Harris, probably because I am the resident in the house Anton owned and will probably need to sign some sort of disclaimer and move out.
He clears his throat and looks over his spectacles at us and nods respectfully.
“It is with considerable sadness that I called you all here to witness the last Will and Testament of Anton Flynn Richardson.”
His mother sobs beside me and I reach out and grasp her hand in mine. I’ve grown to really love Anton’s family and it will be hard losing them as well as him. Ever since I made my discovery on the night of the funeral, I have done my utmost to push it from my mind. I can’t deal with what I saw and just need to get through the next ordeal ahead.
After reading through the preliminaries, Mr Harris comes to the main part of the Will. He reaches for an envelope on his desk and says kindly, “This letter is for you, Fleur. Anton wanted me to give this to you to read in the comfort of your own home.”
I take the letter from him and my heart thumps. Anton wrote me a letter and obviously placed it with his solicitor—but why?
He clears his throat and says in a business-like voice, “Regarding the house I own in The Chase, Esher, I can confirm that it is now mortgage free and I leave it to my darling Fleur.”
I hear a gasp and realise it’s coming from me and I shake my head. “That can’t be right.”
He nods kindly. “It’s true, Fleur. I drew this will up myself and it was Anton’s express wish that you continue to live in the house if anything happened to him. He loved you very much, my dear.”
A lone tear trickles down my face as my heart breaks all over again. He loved me. Really loved me enough to leave me his home. His mother reaches over and hugs me, saying tearfully, “I’m glad, darling. You deserve it.”
His father nods and I can’t help but break down in front of them and say tearfully, “I don’t deserve this. It should be yours.”
Mr Harris interrupts. “Anton also made provision for his family in his will.”
He looks down and reads, “To my amazing parents who I owe all my success to, I leave the contents of my savings account and all my trophies and awards. Dad, I remember you always wanted one, so I leave you my beloved Ferrari. Look after her for me. I know you will.”
This time, his father breaks and we all rush to comfort him in his grief.
Then, when we all contain ourselves, Mr Harris says, “To my beloved sister who used to argue with me incessantly, I leave my prized collection of sporting memorabilia and hope she gets a good price at auction. I understand you won’t want to keep them because you always hated sport and told me so whenever the opportunity arose. Maybe that’s why this bequest gives me the most pleasure.”
Bethany nods and bows her head and Mr Harris adds, “Along with the sum of five hundred thousand pounds.”
She looks up and says incredulously, “Fucking hell.”
This lightens the mood, and it’s strange to laugh at something so serious. Then Mr Harris peers across at Anton’s mother and smiles. “To my amazing mother who I love with all my heart, please don’t grieve too much mum. I know you will, but I want you to enjoy life at my expense. God knows I gave you enough cause to worry, so I’m leaving you my collection of watches to sell. They should keep you in cruises for the rest of your life and just raise a toast to me when you set sail.”
It’s all too much, and I pinch myself to stop the tears from falling. I am wrecked in every way and I miss him so much it physically hurts. Then Mr Harris looks back at me and says firmly, “Finally, the rest of my worldly goods and any money in my bank account go to my beloved Fleur. Now I am gone I want her to live her life like the superstar she is. I love you, babe. Never stop believing that despite what you may find.”
I stiffen as I sense the questions in the air from Anton’s family and vow never to reveal what I saw. They need to remember their son the way he always was, and I am not going to shatter that illusion. In fact, I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with the information and pushed it aside to deal with when I’m stronger. I know one thing though; I must deal with it because this could hold the key to why he died.