After Forever Ends (78 page)

I found her one morning sitting in the garden. She had a book of photos on her lap. The page was open to a picture of her and Oliver. Lucy could not have been more than fifteen years old. In her Bennington uniform, she was perched on Oliver’s back, her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. He held her under the leg with one hand, the other on the back of her head, eyes tilted toward her, a look on his face as if discovering her there was a complete surprise.

“I’m sorry, Lucy,” I suddenly realised how selfish I’d been, “I’ve been so caught up in myself that I haven’t even asked how you are doing through all of this. You lost Oliver, too.”

“Ollie was my brother,” She said softly, staring off at the trees as they moved in the breeze, “I loved him more than I ever told him.”

“He knew.”

“I know he did. He always knew. My whole life he looked out for me,” She looked back at the photo and turned the page. The next was one of her and Alexander, still at Bennington, sitting together in the dining hall, her hand in his. Lance took the shot the week before Oliver and I were married. She turned the page again and it was me and the twins, sixth year, sitting together on the quad. Side by side, me in the middle, we were all smiling, and the wind was blowing my hair on to Alex’s shoulder, “Oliver made sure I was set up at Bennington. He made sure everyone knew who I was, that I was one of his own. Everybody loved him, didn’t they?”

“Yes,” I watched her turn the page again. The next photo was of the twins pretending to strangle each other with their ties, the one below it was of them standing in the West wing, identical in their uniforms. It took me a second to decipher which one was which, but I could tell by the eyes that the one on the left was Ollie, “It was hard not to love him, wasn’t it?”

“Damn near impossible,” She mumbled. “Did you know that after Alexander and I were together, Oliver used to take me on dates?”

“Dates?”

She smiled and turned the page again. The next photo was definitely of Oliver, standing on the corner in Welshpool by his mother’s house. His sunglasses were on top of his head, his t-shirt bore the logo of his favourite football team. His blue jeans were faded and his daps were worn. He wasn’t smiling. He held a book that I had bought for him in his hand, his fingers stuck inside it as if he were saving a page. I realised that the photo been snapped during that awful summer when we’d lost Cara. He looked so stony, so serious, not at all like his normal self. And yet he was still so handsome, his gentle face inviting anyone to ask him what the problem was so that he could unload it from his heart. Poor Ollie. That had been the worst time of his life. Really, it was the worst time of both of ours. I wondered where I had been at that moment and why I had left him alone.

“Oh, yes! Dates!” She continued, “He used to take me out for chips and ice cream, ‘Dates’, he called them. Do you know why he did it?”

“Because he loved you.”

“No, not exactly,” My sister turned to me, giving me a look I could not place, “He did it to fall in love with me.”

“What?”

She laughed, “It didn’t make sense to me at first, either. But you knew Ollie! Not much did make sense with him unless you could step out of yourself and see life through his eyes.” She sighed, “Life through his eyes was always very different. It was more fun, full of magic and wonder. Everything was more beautiful through Oliver’s eyes,” She paused, “I was so jealous of you back then. Not because of Oliver, but Alexander.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve loved Alexander since the first minute I met him. You and him have always had this…thing.” She drew a breath through her nose and added quickly, “Don’t deny it, Sil! Oliver saw it, too. Oliver saw everything. There wasn’t a thing he missed, even if he acted sometimes like he did. He had a gift. He could look at someone and know exactly what they had in their heart.”

“Yes, he could.”

“Anyway, he took me on one of our dates one night and I asked him why he was doing it. I said, ‘I’m only Silvia’s sister, you don’t have to try so hard with me! You know I love you!’ and he told me, ‘But I’m falling madly in love with you, Lucy!’ I was horrified!” She giggled. Even at eighty years old she still had that girly, silly giggle, “And then he said, ‘Oh, not like that! I’m falling in love with your essence, with your soul!’ and he went on to tell me that he had to be in love with me, because Alexander was in love with you. I wanted to punch him right in the face! How dare he say such a thing to me! Alexander in love with you! But then Oliver explained it. He told me that he knew that Alex always had been, since that first day they met you. He said it was another reason how he knew that you were the right one for him to marry. He could never spend his life with anyone that his brother wasn’t in love with, too. If Alex didn’t love you, you weren’t good enough.” She shook her head with a smile, “And he said he that knew that if he fell in love with me, Alexander couldn’t resist loving me, too. He wanted us together, so he began dating me.”

I laughed out loud. “That sounds about like him! His logic was mad!”

“It was! He was mental!” She agreed, “But he was so sweet, wasn’t he? He really saw people. When I was at university, he’d call me sometimes and ask me if I needed anything. ‘Are you all right?’ He’d ask me, “ ‘And don’t lie to me, because I’ll know!’ And later, after Alex and I were together, he always made sure Alexander was treating me well. Oliver was the best. Just simply the best. I miss him so much,” She paused again and looked away from the book. I knew she was collecting herself so she wouldn’t cry. After a moment, she looked back at it and turned the page. The next photo was of her and Alexander, kissing in the garden. It was just of their faces, their eyes closed, Alex’s thumb resting against her cheek.

“I’m sorry I’m taking your husband from you,” I whispered, taken with the beauty of the photo. “I’m being so selfish.”

“You’re not taking him from me,” My sister looked at me suddenly, “I’m letting you borrow him.”

I didn’t know quite what to say. I couldn’t read her expression. “I’m sorry,” I said again.

“Silvia, it’s all right. As far as my husband and you go, I understand. I really do. I used to be jealous, but I figured it out a long time ago. It’s Oliver that the two of you have in common, that brutal love for Oliver. There is no one in the world Alexander ever loved more than his brother. It’s what binds you two. And Oliver and I shared the same ferocity for Alexander. It bound us as well.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

She smiled, “Don’t you really? It’s simple. What you and Alexander have goes beyond brother and sister and it goes beyond friendship. It goes beyond physical. It’s a trust that comes from the heart. A long time ago Alex was confused by the closeness, but now it’s just love. Pure and simple. You love each other. And that’s a beautiful thing.”

“I do love him.”

“I know. And I know that right now you need him and he needs you. Oliver’s gone and you’re both left with all this passion and the object of it is not here. I’m not threatened. Alexander chose me,” Lucy smiled again, “He’s given me fifty four wonderful years with him and I know he wouldn’t have given me a day if he didn’t love me. So why should I be jealous and why should you be sorry? It’s a waste of energy.” My sister took my hand and squeezed it, “And anyway, I adore him. I always have. Losing Oliver is killing him. I can’t do anything for him. I watch him suffer. I watch him die slowly from grief and I can’t touch the place in him where he’s hurting. But you can, because you loved Oliver as much as him. You’re helping him like he’s helping you. I’m thankful to you both for that. I just wish I could do more for either of you. I feel so helpless…” She turned a page in the book again. A photo fell out from between the pages and she caught it. This one got her full attention. It was her, taken only a few months earlier, standing beside Oliver with her head pressed into the middle of his chest. His arms were around her. Both of them were grinning. Lucy stared at it and was quiet for a long time before she whispered, “I wish that I could have done something to help him.”

“None of us could.”

“I never thought it would be him,” She put her hand over her mouth and spoke through her fingers, “Of all of us, he was the most cheerful. He was so alive. How could he have gotten so sick like that and left us alone?”

I put my arms around my sister. I could feel her begin to tremble, “Lucy,” I said softly, “Please don’t cry. If you do, I’ll start up. I think I’ll die if I cry any more. I can’t cry anymore…”

“I can’t believe he’s gone!” She wailed, “Oh, Silvia! I can’t believe he’s really gone! I miss him so much! I can’t believe I’ll never see him again! It’s like it’s not real! It’s a bad dream and I want to wake up! Please, God! Please, wake me up!”

“I wish I could wake us both up!” I swore.

“I’m so sorry, Sil! I’m so sorry! I want him back! I want my brother back! I couldn’t help him! I want him back! Damn it!” She stomped her foot against the ground, “I’m so goddamned sorry that I couldn’t help him! Oliver!” She shouted to the sky, “Oliver! I’m sorry! I’m so, so, so sorry…Oh, God! Please! Come back! I want to help you! Please!”

“No, no,” I rocked my sister in my arms, “We all want him back, but we can’t have him. Can we?” My heart ached so bad I was sure it was splitting apart, “Lucy, we’re all in a nightmare and no one can wake up. But you’re here. I’m here. Alex is here. We still have each other, Sissy. We still have each other. Oliver doesn’t need us to take care of him anymore. We have each other to take care of. That’s what he wanted! That’s what matters! Not what we couldn’t do for him then, but what we can do for each other now.” I smoothed her hair the way Oliver always did mine, “You’re here, Lucy. I love you, Alexander loves you. That’s what matters now. Oliver’s all right. I can feel him, I swear it! He’s all right and he wants you to be all right, too.”

“I’ll be fine,” She assured me through her tears, “It’s my husband I’m worried about! I need you to help me take care of him, Silvia! Please, help me keep him alive! I can’t imagine living without him! I know you just lost your husband, but I can’t lose mine, too! He needs you! Please, Silvia, please! Help me make sure Alexander doesn’t die, too!”

“I promise, Lu! I promise I will keep him alive. We both will, won’t we? We won’t let him go! We won’t! I swear it!”

It was the only time Lucy allowed herself the luxury of losing her composure. She never did in front of Alexander. It would have killed him to see her fall apart and she knew it.

The children were always coming around to check on us after Oliver left. The morning he died, however, Alexander, Lucy and I followed the medics out into the garden as they carried Oliver’s body to the van to be taken away. When they had gone, we sat together on the front stoop. None of us called any of the children. None of us said a thing. We just sobbed and held each other, three old farts sitting on a stoop with snot rolling down our faces.

Finally, knowing that someone was bound to arrive soon, I called Nigel and told him that Oliver had gone away.

“We’re all together,” He told me, “Having breakfast. Gryffin knows. You know how he is about knowing things. He told me earlier, but he doesn’t want to say anything until everyone’s had a bite. But I’ll tell him,” He paused, “And when we’re through I’ll tell the rest. You tell me. Are you all right, Sil?”

“No,” I answered honestly, “But don’t you dare repeat that.”

“Is my dad all right then?”

“He’s worse than me, but your mum and I are keeping him in an upright position. Take your time getting here, all of you. Be safe.”

“We will. We’ll see you soon.”

“Nigel?”

“Yes?”

“I love you. I don’t think I’ve told you for a long time.”

“I love you, too, Auntie Sil. You don’t ever have to tell me. I remember all the time.”

We had a memorial service for Oliver on a Friday. We did it at his parent’s house since there was more room there than anywhere else and Warren and Gwen had insisted. I wondered how quickly they had regretted it when the house became so crowded that a line had to form out in the garden that lead well past the fence. As Oliver had wished, two days earlier he had been turned to ash and sat in a beautiful blue urn, lovingly placed on his old lab jacket, and set in the centre of Warren’s grand piano.

The tears flowed freely. The laughter rang out. We shared stories with loved ones and stories with strangers. Adults who had once been Oliver’s patients as children told me how they remembered his kindness, how he’d helped them when they were helpless and hurting. Friends of our children, now with their grandchildren, stopped by to offer their support and condolences. Connor Stewart and his wife had tea with Carolena and Steffen. I sat with Lucy and Alexander in the sitting room, too sad and exhausted to entertain anyone or even to be receptive to their kindness. Someone brought us tea and sandwiches, but I couldn’t eat. I just stared at the photos on the tables and thought about how many times Oliver and I had gone into that room when we were young to snog where no one could see us. I was remembering a particular incident where we’d been going at it with such abandon that we’d fallen off a chair and broken his mother’s lamp when a voice cut through my thoughts.

“Silvia?”

I turned my head to see a man I didn’t recognize. Too thin, skin as white as his hair, he stood smiling at me from a few steps away. I blinked, trying to place him, but I had no idea. “Hello,” I smiled, not knowing what else I might have said.

“You look wonderful!” The man exclaimed, “Where is Alexander?”

“I…I don’t know,” I honestly had not noticed that Alex had left the room.

“I’m sorry about Oliver. I just heard the news last night. Karenna tracked me down and let me know. Such a shame. He was a good man. I have the fondest memories of him.”

“We’re all getting older,” I said as matter of fact as I could manage, still wondering who he was when Alexander came in from the other side of the room.

“I’ll be damned!” He nearly shouted, a smile spreading across his stony face, “Joshua McGuigan! How the hell are you, Mate?”

“Josh!” I screamed. I got up from that chair more quickly than I’d moved in ages. I threw my arms around the old goat and hugged him tight, “Oh, Josh! Do you have any idea what it means to Oliver and me that you’re here?”