Tasha was sorting through an enormous pile of clean laundry at the top of the stairs. It was nine o’clock on Friday evening, the children were finally asleep, and she was almost ready to drop. As soon as this last chore was finished she was planning on going downstairs and flopping on the sofa for some mindless television escapism. As she folded and sorted she went through her ongoing mental checklist of jobs, adding retrieving the Christmas decorations from the loft to the top of the list. She couldn’t believe it was December already. They were going to get a tree the following morning, with Charlie, who had kindly offered to carry it in and set it up in the heavy weighted stand, as he always did. Another job she needed him for. Tasha had chased Flo for further news about Sophia but it seemed there was nothing more to tell. Mark had no more information; no further digging had thrown anything else into the light. Tasha felt herself well up with tears, as she did each and every time she pictured Charlie with Sophia.
With a heavy heart she picked up the laundry basket to take it downstairs. She paused to listen, sure she had heard a gentle tap at the door. Sure enough, there was another light tap. Who could it be at this hour? she wondered. Javier? It had to be. What could he possibly want? Her mind darted over various reasons for a late-night visit as she walked down the stairs. She opened the door a crack, expecting Javier to be waiting expectantly on the doorstep.
To her surprise, it wasn’t Javier waiting for her, but Charlie.
‘I didn’t want to wake the children,’ he said. ‘And I didn’t want to let myself in… in case you had company.’
She could see instantly that he had been crying. ‘What is it?’ she asked, her pulse quickening in expectation of bad news as she held the door open for him to come in. He looked deathly pale.
‘Charlie, what’s happened?’
‘It’s Andrew,’ Charlie croaked, his voice breaking. He looked at Tasha and his eyes filled with tears; the pain in them said it all.
He shook his head.
‘He’s dead.’
His voice was barely a whisper.
‘What?’ Tasha’s mind reeled. ‘No!’ she gasped, as her eyes widened in shock. Her hand flew up to her mouth.
‘Becca rang… He was killed early this afternoon.’
‘Killed? Andrew’s dead?’ The meaning of his words just couldn’t seem to sink in.
Charlie nodded. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. He hugged her tightly, as if she could somehow help take the pain away. In his embrace it suddenly hit her. Tears coursed down her cheeks and she broke into noisy sobs as she thought of Becca, Daisy and Fergus, of Andrew’s body lying somewhere: lifeless, broken, cold.
‘I can’t believe it,’ she whispered, pulling away and looking up at Charlie.
‘I know.’ He was clearly still in shock.
‘Oh, my God, Becca… your parents… Do they know? Do you know what happened?’
Charlie shook his head. ‘Becca didn’t go into much detail. She was so upset she could barely talk. Her mum had to take the phone in the end.’
‘I just can’t bear it.’
‘She had phoned Mum and Dad straight before calling me. Mum is absolutely devastated, they both are. I’m going to drive up there now. But I had to tell you first.’ Charlie had to stop talking. Tasha had never seen him so upset. It broke her heart.
‘They’ve asked me to pass the news on to certain people, so I’ve been making some pretty horrendous calls.’
‘Oh, Charlie. I’m so unbelievably sorry,’ Tasha said. ‘I just can’t get my head around it.’
‘He was in Syria, not Iraq, as I had suspected. He was hit by an IED.’
‘Oh, my God. Poor Andrew.’ Tasha wiped the tears from her cheeks with her sleeve. She felt shocked to the core and completely shaken. All the angst she had been experiencing over the last few months, the self-pity, paled into insignificance in the face of sudden death’s brutality. How could Andrew be dead? He was such a vital part of all their lives, such a force of nature, such an incredible person. How could it be that he was no longer alive? Just like that?
They went through to the sitting room and sat on the sofa, both numb with shock. Charlie was quiet and Tasha didn’t know what to say. There were absolutely no words for a situation like this: the abrupt, cruel waste of Andrew and everything he had to offer, all the life he had left to live. There was nothing she could say that would offer any comfort. She couldn’t stop thinking about Becca. How would she go on living without him? She would have to raise the children on her own… Tasha’s heart wept for her dear friend. ‘Poor Becca,’ she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief.
‘I know,’ Charlie said. Deep frown lines creased his forehead, his eyes were bloodshot and swollen with grief. She knew just how devastated he must be. Andrew was not only his brother but his best friend. How was it possible that they would never see him again? That no one would? She just couldn’t accept that it had really happened.
‘How did she find out?’ Tasha asked.
‘Some officers went to her house.’
Tasha nodded, picturing the scene, the knock on the door. The fear in Becca’s eyes as she saw the officers approach. Dread taking its ice-cold grip around her heart.
‘She’s got one of them there with her now. He’ll help us arrange the funeral.’
‘Oh, God, the funeral…’ Tasha’s eyes filled with tears once again at the thought. ‘I just can’t believe this is real. It feels like a nightmare.’
‘I know.’ A solitary tear rolled down Charlie’s cheek. He was normally so stoic, rarely displaying much emotion. It made his grief all the more heart-rending to see. Lost for words, Charlie turned towards her. She put her arms around him. His shoulders heaved as he finally broke down. She held him tightly until his sobs subsided. ‘Shall I come too? To your parents’?’ Tasha asked.
‘No, don’t worry. You stay here with the kids.’
‘What about Becca? Shouldn’t we go to her?’
‘If she wants us to. She’ll need some time…’
‘When will the funeral be?’
‘Fairly soon, I imagine.’
‘God, the thought of it… the coffin.’
‘I know… Jesus!’ Charlie stood up and walked over to the wall. He thumped his fist against the door frame, angry with the world for being so unbearably cruel, unable to accept what had happened. They talked about Andrew while Charlie gathered his strength for the drive to Norfolk. He was dreading seeing the look in his parents’ eyes, knowing just how upsetting it would be to see them so heartbroken. They reminisced about some of the amazing times they had all shared, laughing and crying. It was as if the earth-shattering news had drawn a temporary veil over their recent issues. Tasha was too stunned to give her obsession over Charlie and Sophia a single thought. Charlie needed her, and she needed him. Right now, nothing else mattered.
When he felt ready to leave she waved him off in their car, knowing how much Stephen and Caroline needed him to be with them. It was at times like this when family became the most important thing there was. She picked up her phone and called Becca on her mobile, sure that she wouldn’t answer but wanting her to know she was there if she needed her. She spent a long time composing a message of condolence. It was so hard to decide what to say, she knew full well that no words could bring even the slightest comfort to her. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the state of confusion, panic and despair that Becca must be in. How she would have handled telling Daisy… Fergus would be too little to understand. Selfishly she wished she could have Charlie by her side as she lay in bed later that night, staring at the ceiling, still trying to process the news, to adjust to a world without Andrew in it.
The next morning Tasha bit back tears as she showered, trying to stop her face from giving away any signs of the news she had agreed not to share until the afternoon, when Charlie arrived back. He had texted her first thing to tell her he was driving his parents straight to see Becca and the children that morning, at Becca’s request. She wanted them all to be together while they organised the funeral. Charlie would return to Becca’s house again later that evening, but he wanted to be there with Tasha when they told the children.
Their reaction was heart-wrenching. It was the first time the children had had to deal with someone they knew dying. As they tried to understand what it meant they asked more and more questions, each as impossible to answer as the last. ‘Why did Uncle Andrew have to die? What happened to his body? What will Daisy and Fergus do without a daddy? Who will look after Auntie Becca? Will he be an angel in heaven now?’
Tasha was so glad that Charlie was with her. She needed his strength and reassuring presence to pull herself together and keep strong for the children’s sake as they answered each question as best they could. It felt as if they had had too many serious talks with the children of late. She hated how much they had been through these past four months. Though it was nothing, she reminded herself, in comparison with what Fergus and Daisy would be experiencing now and in the years to come. There was nothing like the death of a loved one to give you a much-needed reality check.
She had called Becca again that morning, but she hadn’t got through. Becca had sent her a message.
Thank you dearest Tasha, for your kind words. We’re doing OK. I’ll speak to you very soon, Bx
Every time she read the text she welled up with tears. Becca always seemed so strong, but Tasha knew what must lie underneath that brave outward appearance.
‘Can we make Auntie Becca, Daisy and Fergus a card?’ Max asked.
‘That’s a lovely idea,’ Tasha said, moved by his thoughtfulness.
‘It might be nice if you can draw a happy memory to help cheer them up a bit,’ Charlie suggested.
‘I’m going to draw us all in the swimming pool playing Marco Polo,’ Bella said. ‘Do you think they’ll like that?’
‘They’ll love it, darling.’ Tasha smiled.
‘I’m going to draw a picture of us all at Fergus’s christening,’ Flora said as she fetched the tub of felt pens. ‘That was the best day ever!’
Later, as they waved Charlie off on his way to Becca and his parents, Tasha thanked God from the bottom of her heart that her family were all there in front of her, healthy and safe. Even if they were never a traditional family unit again, she could accept that if she had to, so long as they were all OK. Though she knew she would never stop loving Charlie, not even for a moment.