Page 18 of Life After Me

David

It felt so good to be out of the house. I hated to admit it, but giving in to Lottie’s gentle nagging and Jenn’s non-too-subtle temptations to go for a walk was the best thing I could have done.

For days she’s been sending me visions, easing doors open and blowing fresh air through the house, teasing me with early spring warmth on my skin that makes me crave the outdoors.

As usual, Jenn was right to push me. What with it being Valentine’s Day tomorrow, I really needed the push to get up and do something.

My usual refuge of the TV has betrayed me, with every other programme or advert being another loved-up, nauseating Valentine’s special that serves to remind me of how alone I’ve become.

It was brisk and cold outside, but the sun was warm on my back and my mini sketchbook and camera were comforting, bouncing weights in my coat pocket.

A good day to be alive. Almost as soon as I’d finished the thought I felt the usual twinge of guilt, but the warm sun and Jenn’s soothing presence soon eased it.

She wouldn’t want me wasting my life feeling bad.

Especially on such a beautiful, sunny day.

Had Jenn still been alive, she would have been the first one to bundle herself up in a scarf and gloves, and then drag me out to enjoy the day.

It’s easier to remember her like that: happy and full of life.

If she were physically here now, I know exactly where she would have wanted to go.

It would be the park to see if the daffodils had started to peep through.

It had long ago become a Valentine’s tradition for us.

And then Jenn would have come back every week to check on their progress and make sure she’d catch them in full bloom.

I didn’t have anything else important to do, or anywhere I needed to be, and it seemed a nice idea to go and check for the daffodil shoots.

Another little way to remember Jenn. I think she would have approved of this one, because at least it meant I was out in the fresh air and getting some exercise.

It didn’t take me more than a few minutes to reach the cul-de-sac that the park and daffodil field back onto. As I sauntered through the gates I could feel my muscles starting to relax. I hadn’t realised how tense I’d been until the warm winter sun began to melt the stress away.

I started to whistle as I sauntered across the park and through the treeline.

When I caught sight of the fields, I felt like I’d been sucker-punched in the stomach.

My throat closed up and I struggled to breathe.

The beautiful green grass had disappeared and been replaced by heavy, grey mud churned up by workmen and their machines.

The daffodils I’d come looking for were far too easy to find.

Instead of being tucked safely beneath the soil, they had been ripped out and chucked carelessly aside into loose piles, along with all the other rubbish dragged out of the earth.

I leaned down and picked one up. The damp, papery skin was soft against my palm, and I could see the white shoots where it was starting to grow again.

‘Excuse me, what’s going on?’ I shouted to one of the workmen, my fingers still wrapped tightly around the bulb.

‘Clearing out all the rubbish to make way for the foundations to be laid in a few days.’

‘What?’

‘The new housing estate. Where have you been, mate? It’s been all over the local news.’ He resumed his work.

‘Distracted.’ I forced down the tears that were threatening to choke me.

‘I’ve been distracted.’ Of course, I knew about the new estate — but I’d just forgotten.

Like so many other things it had disappeared into meaningless nonsense.

I stared at the bulb in my hand, thinking of all the memories of Jenn that were wrapped up in its brown skin.

This was yet another thing I associated with Jenn that was disappearing for ever.

There’d been so many things disappearing lately, so many memories fading away.

Jenn always smiled so brightly when she saw the tiny green daffodil shoots appear.

She’s never going to be able to smile again, and these bulbs were never going to burst into life and welcome spring back to the world again.

I couldn’t bear to see all those thousands of bulbs lying in muddy, unloved piles. Something inside me snapped.

‘How much do you want for these?’

‘What?’ The workman spun around.

‘The daffodil bulbs. How much do you want for them?’ The man stared at me blankly. ‘I’ll buy them off you.’

‘You’re mad, mate.’ He shook his head and made as if to walk away.

‘I’ll give you a hundred. One hundred pounds. And I’ll pick them up, every single one of them I can find.’

‘I’m from the council, mate. I can’t take your money.’ He turned away.

‘Please. Just, please... don’t throw them away.’ I forced back tears as I tried to explain. ‘My wife... she loved them. Seeing them flower was one of her favourite times of the year. She’s gone and I couldn’t save her, but maybe I can save these. Please?’

Confusion and then sympathy filled his eyes. ‘You know they’re probably all dead, right? We dug them up.’

‘It doesn’t matter, I’ve got to try.’

‘All right.’ He nodded, clearly still confused. ‘If it means that much to you. But they’ve got to be gone today.’

‘Thank you. Thank you so much. I’ll be right back.

’ I shook his hand hard and clapped him across the shoulder before running home.

I was panting so hard by the time I got back that I struggled to get the keys in the door.

I raced around the house, grabbing bins, boxes, buckets and bags.

Even the washing basket got thrown into the car.

The thought of all those bulbs lying in a dirty pile and never being able to flower again was heartbreaking. I had to rescue them.

* * *

Two hours later, Jenn’s little car was completely filled with muddy, papery daffodil bulbs.

I’d packed them into every bucket, box and bag I had, and they were stuffed into the boot, balanced on the seats and crammed into the footwells.

I was covered in mud and sweating despite the cold, but grinning happily as I brought the last load to the car.

I’d managed to gather up nearly a third of the bulbs already.

My back gave a painful twinge as I heaved the last bucket up and wriggled it into the only gap left.

I drove home carefully, making sure not to smack against the speed bumps or bump up the kerb too hard.

I didn’t want to risk spilling the precious bulbs or damaging them any more.

Within an hour I’d unloaded them all gently onto tarpaulins on the garage floor, and headed back to gather up more of their friends.

I was on my hands and knees sifting through the dirt to find more bulbs when a cold, wet nose snuffled its way between my fingers.

I looked up into big brown eyes and a toothy, cheerful grin attached to a bullet-shaped head and raggedy ears.

There was a lot of Staffy in him, and his brown coat was brindled with golden stripes, making him look almost copper coloured.

‘Jasper, c’mere. Stop bothering the man. Not everyone wants you to slobber all over them.’

‘It’s all right.’ I rubbed the battered ears gently.

‘MrHughes?’ Dark eyes peered at me over darker glasses. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Umm... yeah.’ I shook my head. ‘Sorry, I know I know you from somewhere, but I can’t quite remember.’

‘It’s all right. We met at the wake. Didn’t expect you to remember.’ He held out a hand covered in heavy silver rings shaped like skulls and claws. ‘Stuart Tomkins.’ I rose and shook his hand.

‘Right.’ I nodded. ‘Jenn’s old student. Aren’t you a social worker now?’

‘Not yet.’ He grinned. ‘But I will be soon. Now I work up at the school where I try to make sure the disadvantaged kids get the same chances as everyone else.’ He looked around again. ‘What are you doing?’

I took a deep breath and nervously tried to explain.

When I was done, Stuart just shrugged. ‘Makes sense to me.’ He flicked his long leather coat out behind him and knelt down. So what are we doing with ones like this?’ He held up a damaged bulb.

‘Umm... I thought I’d take them anyway. They might grow, but if not they’ll probably just compost and help the others grow better. What are you doing?’

‘Helping.’ Stuart dragged a bucket towards him and started dropping bulbs in carefully. ‘You’ll be here all day if I don’t.’

‘I really don’t need help.’

‘Yeah you do.’ He grinned and reached for another bulb. ‘And I don’t have anything else I need to be doing. But if you want some privacy, I understand. This is kinda personal.’

I shrugged. ‘It’s all right. I could do with a hand.’

‘Then you’ve got it. Besides, Jasper seems to be enjoying himself.’ He glanced over to his dog whose paws were already covered in mud.

‘Thanks.’

‘Don’t mention it. We going to get on with this?’

* * *

In the end it took us three more runs to collect up all the daffodils, but even with Stuart and his dog taking up space that I could have filled with bulbs, we still finished earlier than I could have hoped.

Stuart’s a really good guy. He insisted on staying to help unload the last of the bulbs and make sure they were tucked away safely in the garage.

His dog lolled around happily in the garden, sunbathing and rolling cheerfully on the patio.

When we were finally finished, I dusted off my hands.

‘So, can I get you a beer or anything?’

‘Usually I would.’ He grinned easily. ‘But I have to get moving.’ He glanced at his phone. ‘I promised my mum I’d meet her for dinner. If I turn up in this state I’ll never hear the end of it.’

‘Oh.’ I felt disappointed. ‘Well, you’ll have to let me buy you a drink one day soon. I really don’t know how to thank you for all this.’