Chapter 33

Beth

As the sun set on the day, my phone chimed again. It was another message from Nick.

It’s okay, I googled the answer about thongs. Unfortunately, I did it at work, so may get sacked for looking at pictures of women in their underwear. Hope you’re having a good day. x

I moved into my parents’ lounge room so I could type my reply away from my family’s chatter, which had grown louder with every passed hour and each consumed drink.

I placed my cursor in the message field.

Gran died today.

I paused to wipe away the fresh deluge of tears that cascaded down my cheeks.

She was on a field trip with Gerry when she collapsed. They think she had a stroke. I’m just so shocked. And so very, very sad. I think Gerry feels much the same, but we’re taking good care of her. X

I pushed send on the message without re-reading it; I didn’t want to have to read those three hideous words – Gran died today – again. A few moments later a dancing ellipsis appeared on the screen indicating he was replying. It disappeared again, and my phone rang in my hand.

‘Oh, Beth. I’m so sorry,’ Nick said when I answered.

I tried to say something, but all that emerged from my mouth was a giant, wet sob. A few moments passed before he spoke again, but the silence wasn’t strained or awkward; it felt more like an acknowledgement that conversation wasn’t necessary to communicate the gravity of the situation.

‘I suppose there’s no point in asking how you are?’ he said finally.

I managed a tiny ironic huff. I appreciated him saying that, as I’ve always found it deeply irritating when people ask it of bereft people, as though it wasn’t completely obvious. After a few deep breaths, I told him as much as I knew about what had happened and the preliminary funeral plans that had been discussed over the course of the afternoon.

‘Is there anything I can do? Can I …’ his voice trailed off as though he was running through a list of ways he could help from across the other side of the world.

‘Would you like me to come over?’ he asked after a few moments.

‘Don’t be silly,’ I said instinctively. ‘That would be crazy.’

‘I know, I know. But I wish I could be there for you. And Aunt Gerry.’

Of course, it would be ridiculous; we’d only just met each other and, if he came out, he would inevitably have to meet my family, which would be a palaver at the best of times, let alone this one. But I wanted him here anyway. I longed for him to swat away my insincere protests and tell me he’d be on the next plane out.

He didn’t, and I felt annoyed at myself for being disappointed. My ability to form rational thoughts about him had been further impaired now I’d added grief and several gin and tonics to the serotonin and dopamine that were already corrupting my judgement.

I massaged my forehead with my spare hand, trying to alleviate my throbbing headache.

‘You probably want to get back to your family,’ Nick said after a few more moments of silence.

‘Not really,’ I laughed. ‘But I probably should. When I left them, they were discussing whether they should have her ashes shot from a cannon, or turned into tattoo ink so we could all get matching portraits of her etched into our bodies. I should probably get back to keep them on the straight and narrow.’

‘Tattooed portraits?’ Nick repeated.

‘Actually, I think that was Gerry’s idea.’

He laughed.

I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I felt like my mind was operating in slow motion, and my body had been sucked dry of all its energy.

‘I’m really sorry, Beth,’ he said tenderly. ‘She was terrific, and I’m really glad I got to meet her. I just wish I could do more to be there for you.’

Staunchly independent, I had never needed anything from anyone, much less from a partner. I learned young that it was better not to rely on Mum or Dad for anything, and I had been single for so long that even if I couldn’t do something, I would learn how to, or pay someone who could.

But Nick’s words comforted me; I liked the idea that someone wanted to be there for me, not because they thought I needed it, but because they wanted to be.

‘Thanks, Nick. It means a lot. I’ll be okay, eventually.’

‘If you need anything, just call. Any time,’ he said. ‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’

I hung up and walked back into the kitchen to find my family debating whether Gran’s barley soup or meat pies were her superior dish. Neither, I insisted, came close to her rice pudding. I remembered the night we contacted Gerry was the last night she’d made it for me.

‘Where is Gerry?’ I asked Mum quietly, while the others carried on the discussion.

‘I think she popped to the loo,’ she responded. ‘But that was a little while ago. I should check on her.’

‘It’s okay,’ I said, already standing again. ‘I’ll go.’

I arrived to find the toilet light was off and the door was open, but I noticed the door to the garden was ajar.

I poked my head outside and spotted her. She was slumped in one of the many white plastic outdoor chairs that littered my parents’ garden. The number of these chairs had multiplied each time my parents hosted a party. By my calculations, they had enough to seat the crowd of a Boxing Day Test.

Gerry was staring up at the night sky, her tear-stained cheeks glistening in the moonlight.

‘They’re a lot, aren’t they?’ I asked rhetorically, selecting the cleanest-looking chair to sit in. ‘My family, I mean.’

‘Oh, they’re great,’ she replied. ‘I just needed some fresh air. I think the day, and the gin, have caught up with me.’

I nodded in solidarity.

‘Nick rang, so I’ve let him know,’ I said, after a few moments. ‘I’m sure he’ll be in touch with you soon.’

She gave me a wry smile. ‘It’s good to see you two are still getting on well, despite the oceans of distance between you.’

Not for the first time, I wished that the great minds of the world would stop messing about with space travel and focus on perfecting teleportation across Earth, so I could see him again, even if just for an hour. Hearing Gerry talk about the distance between us reminded me again of the challenge we faced. And I couldn’t ignore that if things didn’t work out between us, it would add extra heartbreak to the devastation of losing Gran. Was it better to have loved and lost? I pondered. Maybe it would be best to just let it go as a holiday romance, before anyone (me) got really hurt.

‘I can’t help but wonder how this is all going to work,’ I said eventually.

‘You know, my dear, take it from me.’ Gerry’s words were slightly clumsy, providing irrefutable evidence that the day, and the gin, had indeed caught up with her. ‘Don’t let your head get in the way of your heart. Elise and I both saw the way you two were together. It was lovely. She said she couldn’t remember seeing you like that before.’

I felt my cheeks flush again at the mention of Nick, and then a fresh pang of sadness that Gran wouldn’t be around anymore to observe me doing anything again.

‘I’ve known him since he was born, and I could tell he was smitten too. Who knows …’ she continued, boisterously gesticulating with her glass in a way that seemed contrary to her usual refinement, ‘maybe you and Nick were the reason Elise and I reconnected after all these years. Perhaps our love story was just the prelude to yours. Our affair sixty years ago had to happen, so you two would meet today. Maybe it was written in the stars.’

She arced her arm above her head to highlight the twinkling night sky above. The ice in her glass clinked as though providing a sound effect for the sentiment.

‘I suppose that makes Elise and me star-crossed lovers,’ she said, her voice quivering as she slumped further into her chair.

‘You don’t really believe all that, do you, Gerry?’ I asked, curious that a science brain as brilliant as hers would entertain supernatural theories. Of course, there were plenty of esteemed scientists who believed in gods, in their various forms. But surely astrology stretched the notion of faith too far for most.

‘We have to believe in something to make sense of all this,’ she said wistfully. ‘Besides, astrology was science once upon a time. Astrologers were highly respected scholars, and astrology was thought to influence everything from the weather and crop health, to personalities and human medicine. In fact, astrology was still used in medicine until the end of the seventeenth century. Did you know that?’

I nodded. ‘And of course, Australian First Nations peoples have turned to the stars for stories about creation for millennia.’

I didn’t know whether it was the lotto win, finding out about Gran and Gerry, meeting Nick, the gin, the fact that someone other than Jarrah was pointing to the stars for meaning, or just the overwhelming yearning I had to make sense of it all, but I was a lot less sure it was all nonsense than I had been a month ago.

I looked up, willing the stars for a sign that Gran was out there somewhere looking down on me. I realised it was the first time in more than eighty-two years that night had fallen on a world without her in it.

‘Have you thought about where you might like to stay tonight?’ I asked, trying to distract myself with other thoughts before I dissolved into a puddle of salty tears to be absorbed into the weedy grass of my parents’ backyard.

She looked befuddled.

‘I mean, where you’d be most comfortable. Obviously, you’re welcome to stay at Gran’s for as long as you’d like. But if you’re not keen to stay there alone, there’s a bunch of spare beds here, if you can handle them.’ I gestured towards the house, and my family in it, with a nod of my head. ‘Or you’re welcome to stay at my house. It’s nothing fancy, but I do have a sofa bed. I could sleep on that, and you could take my bed. Or I could come and stay with you at Gran’s … if you’d like some company there.’

I hadn’t given it a lot of thought before now, but in offering to stay at Gran’s, I realised I was desperate to spend time in her space. I wanted to smell it before her scent had dissipated and surround myself with the memories that were housed within the walls.

‘Thanks, Beth. That would be grand. I’d love some company tonight. It would be nice to stay at your gran’s together.’

‘You let me know when you’re ready to leave, then,’ I said, rising to go back inside. ‘It’s been a massive day; I’m ready whenever you are.’

‘I’ll be in shortly. I’ll just polish this off and make a wish on one or two of them.’ She lifted her quart-filled gin and tonic in a wobbly salute to the stars twinkling above.