Tuesday – Bayleigh Part two
What just happened? She stuck her nose in the bunch of roses and took a deep sniff. Who cared? It was like carrying all her fantasies in her hand, a million and one romantic holidays on the French Riviera. How did he make them smell so nice?
The shop would smell amazing. Shame they were only open for another hour or so, but it was better than nothing. And then she could take them home. Dad might like them. Well, she wouldn’t take them all home. Layla could have a few and there were thirteen, which was never a good number, so she’d do what the flower seller suggested and give one away.
Bayleigh kept her eyes open all the way back to the shop, but spotted no one who looked needy. Maybe it was because of the roses, but everyone looked happier today. There were none of the usual long faces. Tuesday was the worst day in town, when the week stretched away into the distance and everyone was tired from Monday.
She strolled into the shop and Layla gasped. ‘What happened to you?’
‘Oh, um, I bought them.’
Layla’s face dropped. ‘So some handsome Italian in a sports car din’t give them to you?’
Bayleigh shook her head sadly and grinned. ‘Sorry.’
Layla bustled away into the back and emerged with two vases. They split the flowers in half and soon the shop came alive with the red.
The afternoon was always dead. When she first opened, Bayleigh had closed up straight after lunch. But in this part of town there were always people who wanted food. The afternoon slot was a good way to get rid of the bits they used to throw. She’d always rather someone ate them than put perfectly good sandwiches in the bin.
As she made up the remainder of the sandwiches and stuck the little ‘sale’ flags in, her mind drifted. She went from thinking about Ali to the bank account. She’d checked it last week, for the first time in months. There was almost thirty grand in there. That would keep her for a year, which was more than enough time to set up again.
The magazines were under her bed, stashed safely away. Not that Dad ever went in her bedroom, but she couldn’t help feeling paranoid. What would he do if he found them?
She shuddered and shook her head. He wouldn’t know what they meant anyway. He barely knew her name most days. They’d look after him. The services. They would. She sniffed. The same pointless argument had been going round and round her brain for the last three years. They would look after him, she didn’t doubt that.
But it wasn’t that she was arguing over. She was leaving him, without a goodbye, after thirty six years. And leaving him to the institution, to the same cream rooms and long corridors he’d begged her to rescue him from when it happened. It had been easier then.
She’d had a job that paid five times what she earned now and she’d been younger and— stop it. That was rubbish. It wasn’t any easier then. But her heart had got harder and she’d got tired. That was the truth of it. Three years ago she’d been ready to collapse. All that kept her going now was a folder full of bank statements and a bunch of glossy travel magazines and estate agent brochures.
She blinked. Between her hands was a sandwich bearing eleven sale signs. With a sigh she yanked them out and threw it in the bin. She looked straight ahead at the roses and sniffed. Maybe the thirteenth rose was for dad. Between the gorgeous petals she watched the door open and a woman come in.
Her eyes were red and her pretty dark hair was all over the shop. Bayleigh took a few seconds to decide whether it was deliberate, but the absence of make up and the lack of jacket made her think not. She had lovely lips, red and full and enough to stir just the tiniest spark of jealousy in her.
The woman stomped up to the counter, stared blankly at the sandwiches and snuffled. She was about to burst into tears! Bayleigh dashed around the counter and put her arm around her shoulders. The woman gave her a pathetically-grateful look and sniffed again, eyes swimming. She took a few deep breaths and gently shook the arm off.
Bayleigh gave her a smile and went back around the counter.
‘Thanks. Sorry.’
‘It’s fine, really. What can I get you?’
‘Oh god, I don’t know. A new life?’
Bayleigh blushed and shifted from foot to foot. This was unusual conversation for the afternoon crowd. This was, in fact, unusual conversation for the shop in general. What was she supposed to say? I’ve heard Coronation Chicken can help with that?
‘Sorry. Again. Um, can I get the mozzarella and basil one please. And do you have any…’ she trailed off and burst into tears. This was even tougher. Bayleigh had already offered the embrace. Should she do so again? She froze and watched this complete stranger break down on the other side of the counter.
‘Um, do you want to talk about it?’
The sobs subsided. ‘What’s there to talk about? There’s a guy’ – Ahh, that made sense – ‘and he’s amazing, but I’ve always wondered and when he came over yesterday I got something from his pockets and I found his wedding ring.’
The tears came again, accompanied by huge sobs and now Bayleigh did head around the counter. She wrapped her in plastic-gloved hands and hugged until the crying slowed. The last pieces of the story came between choked sobs.
‘And now I’m calling and texting but there’s no answer. There’s not even a tone, it’s like he’s disconnected his phone.’
There were a thousand things she could say, but none of them were the right thing, so she kept her mouth shut. Timing the release would be tricky. Fortunately, Layla came back in from getting her lunch and gave her the opening. She stepped back behind the counter as Layla did the same and they shared a glance.
Layla set her lunch to one side and set about making coffee. Twenty minutes later the woman left, looking considerably calmer and bearing food. She also took with her one red rose. She’d looked at it as thought Bayleigh was offering her a snake and shaken her head.
‘Please. It’s a spare and I think you need it more than anyone.’
The woman still hesitated, but finally took it and managed a smile before she left. Now the door was locked, the till was counted and Layla stood by the door.
‘Here, you want some roses?’
Layla’s face lit up and she rushed over. ‘Thought you’d never ask. So, you seeing Ali tonight?’
‘No, no. Dad’s movie night tonight.’
‘Ooh, what you watching?’
Bayleigh laughed, though it came from her head not her heart. ‘Same as always, first hour of Jungle book.’
Layla started to laugh and stopped herself. She turned away, clearing her throat. She was amazing about Dad, talked about him like a normal person. Bayleigh thought every now and then she probably forgot he wasn’t. Easy when you didn’t look after him, twenty four seven.
‘So, I’ll see you tomorrow then, yeah?’
Bayleigh shook herself and forced a smile. ‘Yeah. Thanks for today, see you.’
The door banged shut and Bayleigh was alone in the darkening shop. She stared at the six roses in her hand and took a deep breath. They were beautiful. She pressed the alarm code and headed for the door. She pulled it shut and locked it and turned to the Thames. She had to get home.
But her feet led her down past the offices and shops to the river where she paused. The flower seller was gone and where his stall stood there was a space, like an absence that stole her breath. She walked around the space and leaned against the railings. The water taxis were in full swing, charging up and down the Thames, lights beginning to show against the darkening sky.
Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out. It was the nurse’s number and she groaned. She was heading for the station before she answered it.
‘Yes?’
‘Bayleigh?’
‘Yes, how is he.’
‘Bayleigh, I’m sorry, are you alone?’
‘I’m walking to the tube station. Why?’
‘You might want to find a bench to sit on.’
Her scalp went cold before sweat sprung up on it. She resisted the urge to scrub her hand through it and stopped walking.
‘What is it?’
‘Bayleigh, I’m sorry, but your father passed away about five minutes ago.’
‘He… what?’
‘Your father passed away. He had a heart attack. Very sudden and very strong and he went before I could even begin procedures.’
‘Procedures?’
‘Resuscitation. I would have tried resuscitation.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Why would you try that? He’s spent twenty years in misery, why the hell would you try to bring him back?’
‘Bayleigh, I understand that you’re upset.’
The nurse went on, explaining that dad would be taken away before she got home and that she’d have to contact the local crematorium to see the body and arrange the funeral. The voice went on and on and at some point she must have said thanks and hung up because when she came to she was back at the river.
He was dead. Twenty years and he was finally dead. She tried to find some grief, tried to pretend that the tears rolling down her face were for him and not her. Her left hand was clutched tight around the roses and she had to prise it apart with her right. The thorns had dug deep and little welts of blood appeared on her palm as she lifted the roses out.
She pushed her nose into them. They smelled amazing and they covered the smile that broke through the tears. One by one, she tossed them into the Thames and watched them drift away. She turned and walked back to the station.
Interlude
Finally. That had been easier than he’d expected. Funny how so many of the subjects didn’t want to be on the edge. All it took was a nudge and maybe a bit of mercy killing and they were saved. He actually had a lump in his throat, watching her stride back to the station.
She wouldn’t notice herself, but her shoulders had fallen from their place up around her ears. The muscles would ache tomorrow and she wouldn’t know why.
One from two so far this week. Not bad and certainly better than he’d expected after yesterday. The flower seller sat at his desk, pulled the window closed and focused on the list that lay before him. He had to pick tomorrow’s subject.
The first subject he glanced at entranced him and he read it three times, smile getting bigger every time. He could do this one. This was made for him. He just had to find the right trigger. He read further and thumped the desk with his spare hand. Beer time. With a satisfied sigh, he flicked the lamp off, walked to the edge and jumped.
Next Installment Thursday 19th June
