After Forever Ends - Ramone Melodie (бесплатные книги полный формат TXT) 📗

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?”

How wonderful it was to see him, even under such horrible circumstances. We sat and talked for ages. After graduation he’d gone on to university in the States where he’d met and married and American girl. They’d lived in the Mid-West until he convinced her it was time to give Wales a go. He was home, he said, to finish out his days. He wished that he’d looked us all up sooner, he was so sorry that he‘d missed Oliver, but he was so thankful that he’d had the chance at least to see Alex and me.

None of us promised to see each other again when he left that evening. We just hugged again in the front garden and wished each other well. That was fine with all of us. We’d seen each other once more if never again, and that meeting we’d keep with us forever.

Days later, when Oliver was placed in the cabin on a shrine that we’d made in his honour and all the children had left the wood, I finally asked Alexander what I’d wanted to since Ollie had died. “Alex,” I caught him standing in the garden staring at the trees, “Oliver told you something the last time you spoke. You promised him to tell me. What was it?”

Alexander turned his head slowly toward me. He blinked thoughtfully a couple of times, “Ah, yeah. I’m glad you asked. I’d almost forgotten. He said he remembered exactly what it was about you that made him love you in the first place.”

“What was it?”

“The way you loved him back.”

Chills shot down my spine and prickled across my skin.

“Are you all right, Sil?” Alex reached out and put his hand on my shoulder.

I nodded, unable to speak and helpless against my tears.

Those words should have broken my heart, but instead they healed me.

In all the years we were together, Oliver had never asked me what it was that made me love him in the first place, but I had always known the answer. It was in his eyes and in everything that he did and said. I loved him without fear or restraint because I could take one look at him and I knew how deeply he loved me in return.

It struck me right then what magic we’d truly done.

“What does it mean?” I had asked him so long ago when he had spoken of love magic.

“Love is the oldest and greatest of all the magic in the world.” He’d said, “I guess we wait and see. We’ll know in our time.”

He’d given me everything I’d ever wanted. It wasn’t a huge house or luxurious gifts. It was him. I’d only ever wanted his love. I’d only ever wanted to love him with my whole heart. I had wanted to give him his children. I wanted to raise a family with him. I’d wanted to laugh and play and run free with him. And he’d let me and he’d loved me back with such an intensity that somewhere along the way we’d become a true and real part of each other.

“I love you, Silvia. I have always loved you. I loved you before forever began and I’ll love you still after forever ends.”

Oliver had told me that, standing in the snow by the lake at Bennington when we were sixteen years old. Sixty-nine years ago he’d said those words. That day they rang through my head and echoed through my heart.

In an instant, I finally knew what he had been trying to tell me. I understood what my pain over losing him meant! It wasn’t pain at all!

That empty spot in my heart was the piece of my soul that I’d given to Oliver when he was alive. It was my gift to him, given willingly, so that we would never truly be apart and we would always, always be able to find each other. He’d taken it with him across the veil. I had been mistaking his sweetness for torture. When my heart throbbed and ached, that was the gift that Oliver had given to me while he was alive, that was the part of his soul that I owned. When I felt that hurt, it meant he was thinking of me. Oliver missed me like I missed him. That twinge inside my soul was Oliver a million miles away telling me he loved me even more still now that he was gone.

He was my heart! That was the magic! Oliver had become my heart!

“Oh, Ollie!” I gasped. “It’s still our time! I’ve got it now! Our time never ends!”