Episode

Twelve
 

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Shhh. Come on in. John’s asleep. He’s been up with Shirley for days, and now that she’s gone down to spend some time at Vera’s, he’s just crashed.

She did ask me to thank everyone for coming to the funeral and back to the house afterwards. She appreciated it.

I guess I just can’t believe he’s gone. I have to admit that I never got on with Shirley, but Martin was a special man. He didn’t say much, but he was always honest and kind to me. Even after John and I split, he came to visit me at my new flat, brought me some veg from the garden, and we had a nice chat. He understood what was happening, and didn’t get judgmental like most people did. Last time I saw him I teased him and said I wouldn’t be seeing him much now that he was destined to be such a star. Funny, really…

I don’t even remember my own granddads. Mum’s dad died when I was four years old. My dad and I never got on much, and after he split with Mum, I hardly ever saw him, much less the rest of the family. That granddad died when I was a fifth year, but my Nan is still alive. I really ought to go see her, just to say hello and tell her that I think about her sometimes. She sends me cards at Christmas.

Frank thinks Martin’s still here, in the house. He died right in this room, before the ambulance could get here. Frank finds comfort, I think, in never letting go. I’d prefer to think of him somewhere else, somewhere better than this place. Or at least if he is still around, I hope he’s in the garden, watching the apples ripen.

John? I don’t think he believes it yet. I think he’s just numb. Maybe after he’s had some sleep and a little time, he’ll be better. Anyway, thanks for stopping in. I’ll tell him you came.

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