BUTTERFLIES FLY AWAY Read online

  The answer machine was bleeping when she got home from another rough and bruising day. She pressed the button intending to delete without listening. If she didn’t listen to the messages the machine would continue to bleep announcing, listen to me, listen to me!

  “You have 7 messages,” Great, I’m popular,

  “Message 1” she kicked off her shoes, flung her bag and keys down and let the messages play out. “This is Parkville dental practice and a message for Robert Davies we-“DELETE she couldn’t listen to any more of that.

  “Message 2 .. Great News you are entered into a prize draw to win” DELETE

  “Message 3 .. Hi its Mum, just calling to see if everything is okay, call me when you get this, love you” DELETE.

  “Message 4 ..Carrie, pick up the phone, Carrie I know you are screening your calls … Ah bugger, call me ” DELETE Claire had sounded impatient but she couldn’t remember ‘avoiding’ the call. Well this time she didn’t.

  “Message 5 .. This is Donna from Dazzle Me. You missed your last appointment “DELETE.

  “Message 6 .. Good Morning, this is a call for Mrs Reynolds-Davies. Can you please return our call to discuss your banking requirements?” DELETE.

  “Message 7 .. Hello … Hello oh I hate speaking on these things … Carrie darling ... its Auntie Belle I’ve been thinking why don’t you come and visit? I’ve been talking with your Mum and she’s worried about you, you know how she does.. Anyway how about” and the message ran out. Typical Auntie Belle carrying on a conversation when she wasn’t there!

  Oh exciting microwave penne pasta dish for dinner. She wasn’t hungry but knew if her Mum popped over later she would check that Carrie had been eating. Her Mum would even check the rubbish bin for evidence. The microwave began its countdown and she set the table for one taking some cutlery from the drawer, a napkin and finally a glass of wine. All these tasks accomplished before the final ping of the microwave. Auntie Belle was a character and Carrie had always enjoyed staying with her in the past. She was her Mums younger sister and Carrie idolised her. Her job in the hospitality industry gave her the opportunity to travel the world consulting on ailing hotels that needed a revamp. As a child Carrie had thought it very exciting and they would holiday wherever Auntie Belle was working. Sometimes the locations glamorous and then the not so glamorous but it was fun ordering room service and travelling up and down in the elevators. It was no surprise that Carries education had continued in the same vein and she had followed her Auntie into the hospitality industry. The job at AGM was a stop gap that became permanent.

  Auntie Belle had an apartment in Newquay but travelling there would take almost as long as a long haul flight she wasn’t quite up for that. She would call her Aunt later and decline. For the moment anyway.

  The TV was on in the background but she wasn’t paying any attention and sat on the sofa legs curled up under her in her little den. She thought about doing some laundry or reading a magazine or calling her family but she did none of the above. Staring into space she was unaware of how long she sat on the sofa. The glass of wine untouched at her side. Her mobile was on silent from work and she looked at the screen announcing she had missed calls and texts. A quick scan and she texted her sister back. Claire would appear at the door if she didn’t check in. The mobile at her side and the screen flashed as the screensaver popped on. She hadn’t changed it and there was Rob looking goofy but sweet. It caught her breath as it did every time she looked at it. Maybe she should change it and spare herself the heartache but she couldn’t. She picked the phone back up and touched her finger over his face. If only she could speak to him again – just one more time for even one more minute. The phone vibrated again announcing another text. Her sister had replied – trying to get Carrie to come over that weekend for Sunday lunch. She texted back she would think about it. That usually worked better that a flat out NO.

  Would she always feel this way? So empty, so sad? It was as if the happiness gene was taken away from her. To be honest, she just couldn’t be bothered. Everything appeared to have such a great effort attached to it. She had closed her face book account and didn’t want to read updates on how great everyone’s lives where when hers was shit. She couldn’t bear to update her relationship status instead she just closed the account. She had declined many family gatherings over the last few months. The multitude of Aunts, Uncles and Cousins brought many occasions that Carrie had opted out of. She knew her family wouldn’t pressure her to go to an event but they would also give her the straight talk that she wasn’t ready for. The doorbell rang and she couldn’t ignore that. Couldn’t pretend she wasn’t home with her car in the driveway and lights on throughout the house.

  “Hi Carrie, sorry to bother you” it was her neighbour Chris. He was looking for the return of his hedge trimmer. They had borrowed it ages ago and Chris didn’t want to pester her for it back.

  “I completely forgot about it Chris. Meant to buy myself another and return yours ages ago. But just with everything … well you know how it is” She let the conversation hang, busy opening the double garage doors and there it was tucked in the back where it had been for the last 6 months.

  “It’s the summer barbeque on Sunday” Chris reminded her.

  “Oh, yes .. it’s the 1st weekend of August, isn’t it?” Their annual summer barbeque on a bank holiday weekend. “I think I will give it a miss this year Chris .. I’m going to Claire’s for a family lunch” well it wasn’t a lie and she now had a ready-made excuse. It was too soon to be faced with her neighbours en masse at a social event. Maybe that’s why Claire had been trying to get her to agree to lunch? She wouldn’t put it past her sister to organise it so that Carrie would be away from the street.

  “Maybe next year Carrie?” Chris offered.

  “Yes, maybe next year Chris” she concurred.

  Her family had always joined them for the barbeque were everyone pitched in and brought dishes to share. In rainy years gazebos and make shift shelters were erected to ensure the day would go on. Always full of laughter it marked the start of summer and another reason why Bluebell Gardens was a nice place to live. They had always enjoyed it and having the bank holiday Monday off made it even better.

  She returned to the house, locked the door and resumed her position on the sofa. The TV still on in the background its sound low blocking out the silence of the house. A quick text to her sister .. “Summer BBQ????????” no need for a further explanation.

  Within seconds the reply. “Escape plan or join the BBQ????”

  “Escape plan!”

  It frustrated her that her sister didn’t just come out and say and remind her of the event instead of trying to shield her from it. Perpetually being the big sister she supposed. But this was to be a year of firsts. The first valentines without him, their birthdays, Wedding anniversary, Christmas and the first anniversary of his death. All those epic firsts to get through.

  Last month she had her first birthday without him. A day that she was dreading. Not that extra year older dread but being without Rob. He usually changed his schedule so that he was home for her birthday so that she wouldn’t wake up alone. He would surprise her with a trip away or dinner in their favourite restaurant, somewhere that she could dress to the nines. They would spend time with her family too and she would feel cherished surrounded by those she loved and that loved her. This year, her year of firsts she woke up alone, but was determined to go to work and treat it like any other day. She made the bed, smoothed the duvet cover like she always did and fluffed the pillow that didn’t have any indent other than her own. “Why can’t you give me a sign that you are here?” she said aloud in frustration. “I miss you so much.”

  At work her colleagues had brought a cake and sang Happy Birthday. Again she tried to act normal. Thanked them and sliced the cake for everyone to tuck into. She had said to Fiona that she didn’t want a fuss and for once it appeared Fiona had listened to her. As a department for birthdays they would usually go out. Lu
nch or cocktails were the traditional birthday celebrations and make a day of it but she had declined this offer. Maybe next year was her reply. There was always a maybe.

  She had made an attempt at normality, went to her Mums for a family meal instead of going out, had a couple of glasses of wine but left early in a taxi. Her first year without a To My Wife card.

  After checking the lock on the front door, again, she walked round the house checking windows were closed and turned off the small table lamp. Time for bed. She was paranoid about making sure the doors were locked and she could go safely upstairs. Looking in the mirror she felt like she was forty-eight not twenty-eight. Grief had taken its toll on her and it was a cycle that she didn’t think she could or would want to break free from. Her hair was dull needed cut and if she caught the light she knew her roots would need coloured soon. She carefully removed her make up all part of her night-time routine, ran a bath, filling it with bubbles the one luxury she allowed herself and soaked in the hot water. If she closed her eyes she could replay this same scenario a thousand times but with a different outcome. Rob would bring her a glass of wine, she would ask him to scrub her back and it would all get very messy as he would join her! She opened her eyes and wiped the tears away that had fallen without her even noticing. Would this feeling of loss ever go away?

  As she dried off something caught her eye on the floor. A shiny penny. Where had that come from? She picked it up and put it in a dish on top of the drawers. If she didn’t pick it up then it would surely end up being vacuumed away later when she did her house work. She couldn’t remember dropping any coins but then again she could hardly remember what she did yesterday. Fluffing the pillows and punching them into a shape she was comfortable with she tried to sleep. It seemed tonight that sleep would be elusive. The noises of the house as it settled down for the night seemed to amplify. Every creak and bang she could place as in the months after Rob’s death when her mind was in overdrive she methodically ruled out the source. Click, click, and click the radiator in her room would sound at night as it cooled down – even in summer. Tap, tap, and tap the sound of the roman blind tapping against the window pain in the en suite. She would leave the window open after the steam of her bath to clear the air. But could hear the familiar noise as the blind moved. There was always the sound of the creak on the stairway – this one she couldn’t place but the noise had been there for years even when Rob was still there.

  Tonight the dream that came to her was the one she feared. In her dream she was in the car with Rob when it crashed. As was their habit if Rob was based in the office they would travel to work together but more often than not he was working away. That day she had taken a holiday from work to go to the Spa but she should have been with Rob. The dream would play out like a movie. They would leave the house, Carrie forgetting her mobile as she usually did when it was still plugged in charging, rushing back to get it. Rob would be eating some toast, crumbs over his suit and in the car. Carrie chastising him for being messy. Rob chastising her for being forgetful. The radio would be playing in the back ground and they would chat about their day ahead, whose turn it was to make dinner and their chances of getting away from the office at a reasonable time. Just a normal average day for them. That’s where the dream would deceive her and for a moment she would believe it to be real with the normality of it. She looked at him as he sang along to an old 1990’s song from his ‘youth’. “Oh that is soooo cheesy you still remember all the words!” she would tease him. His hair was spiked up a little at the back at the crown of his head and the dark brown hair peppered more with grey. “You need a haircut Mr Davies!” He would turn and smile then BANG. The car would be hit with the lorry jack-knifing, spinning round and round until it hit the barrier. Until the car shuddered to a halt, then the car horn would blast as Rob’s head rested on the steering wheel. In the dream or nightmare as it now became she would reach over and tilt his head towards her, the blood trickling down his face from the cuts sustained from the glass. Then she screamed and screamed until she woke sitting upright on the bed. Just as well the neighbours couldn’t hear her. She looked at the clock on the nightstand 3.14am.

  It would be impossible to go back to sleep so she returned back downstairs to make some tea. Needing something to distract her from the images replaying in her head. She hadn’t seen any of the accident pictures that were taken by the police as part of their enquiry. But that didn’t stop her visualising how awful it would have been. When she blinked she could almost see in her mind’s eye his face as in his final moments. She remembered seeing his body in the morgue and the cut on his forehead. Back on the sofa, a throw tucked around her legs and a cup of tea the remedy for her ails. She put the TV on but picked a digital radio channel, muted music in the background. The table lamp back on too as she didn’t want to sit in the living room in darkness. The tea soon finished and she wasn’t aware of nodding off but no further dreams disturbed her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Ahhh” she yelped out as she rolled of the sofa. Cracked her leg of the coffee table. Disorientated and springing up off the floor surrounded by the scatter cushions from the sofa. At a glance the wall clock displaying it was 10.02am. Oh no late for work then a millisecond later relief as she realised it was Saturday and no for work her. Avoiding another bollocking for being late as it was the week end. Phew! Her body stiff from her sleep on the sofa she headed for the shower.

  The remainder of the morning she spent cleaning the house and doing her laundry. Although with only one person in the house she did wonder at times what there was to tidy. After a look through her fridge she knew a trip to the supermarket was in order. She shook the carton of orange juice and managed to pour half a glass before rinsing the carton out for recycling. Maybe today she should make that appointment with her hair dresser? Then she talked herself out of it. It was Saturday after all on a bank holiday weekend. They were bound to be full. She would call them later through the week and make an appointment. Donna at Dazzle Me had been a good friend to Carrie through the years and she felt bad that she hadn’t cancelled her last appointment in time. She knew if she called she would probably squeeze her in but she didn’t want to do that.

  HR had asked her again yesterday if she had Rob’s laptop and she was losing patience with them. When Claire had helped her sort through Rob’s stuff they hadn’t found the laptop and she had told HR that when she returned to work. What was the big deal? She told them she would have another look this weekend and advise them on Monday. Carrie stood outside Rob’s study. Her hand on the doorknob trying to pluck up the courage to open the door. She hadn’t been in the room for months. Avoided it like the plague. But it needed to be done and she took a deep breath and opened the door. Standing in the doorway she let the door hinge pull the door back as far as it would go. The room smelt musty and stale. She opened the window to air the room. Pulled the blinds high and let the natural light flood in. She pulled the drawers open, shuffled paper around but no sign of the laptop. It was compact but not small enough to be hidden by papers but she still rummaged around. Sitting on the leather chair she leaned back, her hands on the arm rests. The shelves looked bare where she had removed some of the trophies and pictures for his parents. The boxes still in the garage. She hadn’t contacted them to make any arrangements. Didn’t want to be petty but they hadn’t contacted her either. What’s that old saying? Two wrongs don’t make a right? She would write to them, that would be better than a call plus she didn’t know if they were travelling or not. There a decision made.

  Opening the top drawer she pulled out an envelope with the logo of an Edinburgh restaurant, gasped in surprise as she had completely forgotten. Rob had bought the voucher and made the booking months in advance for her parents wedding anniversary. They were foodies and had wanted to go to this up and coming restaurant for ages but the waiting list was months long. Ironically the restaurant called La Vie, translated as the life. A final gift from Rob.

  It was too much. />
  She stared to cry again, great big wracking sobs that shook her body tears flowing down her face. Folding her arms she lay her head down on the desk and cried and cried and cried. It felt like hours later that she woke her eyes puffy and swollen from the tears. The room was cold from the open window. Typical Rob to buy something and not tell her, making a grand gesture or a surprize but this one took the wind from her sails.

  In the bathroom she avoided her reflection and wetted a face towel. Applying it to her closed eyes in an attempt to soothe the puffiness her tears had brought. Her plans now to go to the supermarket abandoned. Maybe tomorrow she would go. The thought of leaving the house brought panic to her stomach. It was almost six months since Rob had died but today it felt as though it was six hours that it was so raw. The grief would come in waves like the tide coming in gently lapping against her. Always there, reminding her of her loss, when she woke and turned expecting to see his head on the pillow next to hers the wave would crash. When she would set the dinner table for two, two dinner plates, table mats in her hand, cutlery; another crash of the wave. At the supermarket picking up his favourite fruit juice or a packet of razor blades into the shopping trolley; another crash of the wave. The tide no longer gently lapping it was ferocious against her the sand pulling her legs from under her; ready to topple. Sitting in her car after collecting dry cleaning the waves finally pulled her under. She grabbed frantically at the cellophane covering the fabric that he would never wear again, tearing it open and pulling it to her face. But the suit no longer smelled of his aftershave, just the chemical smell of the dry cleaners. A suit that he had worn many times, his lucky suit, the one he always wore when closing a deal. The suit now a crumpled mess wrapped in her arms. That’s when she knew she had to do something that her loss was unbearable and was manifesting in everything she did. Her doctor had referred her for counselling when the grief overtook and she finally admitted that she couldn’t cope. He prescribed tablets as a temporary measure to ease her anxiety. The counsellor said she was grieving her loss and place in life. She was Rob’s wife but now she was his widow. Survivors guilt.