Eldon arrives to look after Doug and I get in the car and drive like a bat out of hell. I hope Doug will have a bad day so that Eldon will see what I can’t tell him. I refuse to feel bad about having that thought.
It’s lovely in the Barossa today. The sun reflects off the golden hills on one side of the road, and lights up the iridescent green of the vines on the other. The earth is brittle and plush, all at once.
Neville answers the door, his face bleak.
‘I didn’t give her the full dose of morphine, Florence. She wanted to be able to talk to you. But she won’t last long like that.’
I thank him and go to Gloria’s room.
In just a week she has stepped closer to the edge of life than seems possible. I hold her hand and she opens her eyes. She is a skeleton held together by skin-coloured tissue paper. I do not cry when she tries to squeeze my hand, but I can no longer remember how I got here. It doesn’t matter. We look at each other and that’s all.
Neville comes into the room and takes Gloria’s other hand. It is a silent vigil and with Doug missing it is incomplete, as my life will always be from now on.
Then Gloria is gone.
There is no drama. Her breath is there, and then it’s not.
I say a small prayer to a god I don’t believe in, begging for her to be looked after.
‘Most of all, I will miss her wickedness,’ Neville says trying to smile through his tears.
‘Me too,’ I say. But it’s not quite true. Most of all I will miss her counsel when the time comes, soon, and I must be braver than I feel.