Kate and Rana had always looked forward to spring: the bitter, merciless winter winds turning into gentle breezes, with only the occasional morning draught bringing a slight briskness to the air, the once frost covered foliage paving the way for dew dusted daffodils. The sun would finally emerge from the melancholy grey clouds, the rays encouraging the birds; now free and able to forage for food.
Rana was glad that the blaring of her alarm had been replaced with birdsong, the chirping somehow more gentle in arising her from the depths of sleep. She'd told Kate so, one morning in May.
They were walking in the vast forest on the outskirts of her hometown, the well worn paths conforming naturally to Rana's languid strides as Kate stumbled over hidden roots. A crow squawked and Rana smiled, almost fondly, looking up and instantly finding the bird. Its beady eyes seemed to gleam in the sunshine, looking golden as streams of light shone through the leaves, sitting above them in a canopy of branches.
Rana had told her that the sound had reminded her of how the seasons changing had injected some joy into her morning routine, and Kate had asked her how the screeching of a crow had possibly done that. Rana had laughed, disregarding Kate's question and telling her that Kate's red coat reminded her of the holly berries they'd just walked past. That was as close as a compliment that Kate had ever got.
The road stretched endlessly in front of them, even as Kate's white Mercedes rapidly sped down the highway. Cool air pumped out of the small black air conditioning units in an attempt to block out the humid summer, the quiet humming doing nothing to alleviate the tense atmosphere. Rana told Kate that she was too hot and Kate visibly shivered whilst turning the climate control dial down to the lowest temperature, glad that she'd accidentally grabbed the red coat as they had rushed out - old habits. Kate could feel Rana watching her as she pretended to concentrate on the unbending road, no cars in sight. Kate moved her head a slight fraction to the left and instantly Rana turned to the window, the blur of greens and blue outside almost poetically framing her side profile.
The car park was strangely quiet for a Saturday afternoon. Rana, too, was uncharacteristically quiet as Kate parked. She stopped the engine, taking the keys out of the ignition and preparing to get out of the car. Kate leaned over a little to open the door but Rana stopped her, grabbing her arm somehow gently.
"Wait," Rana murmured, with such great magnitude of importance, she didn't really need to keep ahold of Kate's arm to keep her in place. She turned to face Kate for the first time that day. "I…" She exhaled, "I'm scared." Her voice was slightly strained, eyes shining with unshed tears and Kate knew she needed someone to depend on, she invariably always would.
"I know."
Kate gave her a smile that she hoped was more reassuring than she felt, motioning towards the door as Rana nodded. They both knew, in that moment, that Kate would always be there; a ceaseless, steady pillar of support.
Rana was dressed in attire more appropriate for a dinner party than a hospital, where vision blurred from lack of sleep, and everyone wore paper gowns or blue scrubs. Ironic, really, a place where so many die at the point when they most want to live. She walked hastily to the reception, her previous worry seemingly vanquished. But Kate knew better, she knew that Rana just wanted it to be over, to be good news. They both did, so they could get back to summer with no worries looming ahead of them. So Rana could be okay.
It was autumn when they were told the unimaginable. The leaves had just started to turn brown and fall from the homes they had known on the tree branches. The days got shorter and the nights colder, rain got heavier and more frequent.
Rana didn't react. Not physically. She didn't cry, didn't scream, didn't shout, didn't even speak. Not in front of him, the kind eyed yet still apathetic consultant. She just arose from the harsh grey chair, calmly as ever. The only sign that her life had just unravelled completely was the slight shaking of her slender hand as she laid it onto the door handle. She opened the oak door and Kate watched as her black heels clicked across the otherwise silent corridor. There wasn't even so much as a fleeting glance backwards. She didn't wait for Kate to catch up. She never did.
It was the next winter when she left. Kate bought a black dress and went to the final farewell, crying silently all the way through, standing at the back next to the lilies.
Rana didn't even like lilies.
Kate followed them all outside, feeling too desolate and heavy to even be conscious of the crunching of snow underfoot. She leaned against an oak tree as they lowered Rana into the ground, where she'd stay forever. Someone shakily read out a poem that Kate knew she would have hated. She waited until they had all left and attempted to walk the few feet to her. Her legs gave way and Kate sank to the ground in a heap of disconsolateness, mumbling rambled apologies and words of regret.
They'd told stories of Rana's tranquility, humility and elegance. None of her impulsiveness, of her temperamental, self destructive nature. Quick to anger and slow to cool, beautiful chaos personified.
Kate went home and nearly punched the wall when she saw the red coat hanging inconspicuously, innocently from the chair. She remembered that she'd given the coat to Rana because she was cold, only a few weeks before she left. She'd protested, fretting that Kate would "catch a chill." Kate had wanted to help, feeling useless - if this was the only way she could, then she'd certainly try. Rana, forever intuitive, probably knew this, so relented with a grin on her face. It had swallowed her slight body up, and she complained that it made her look like a traffic cone and Kate disagreed with a fond smile. Regardless, Rana had stopped shaking. Kate had revelled in her small victory.
Taking the material from where Rana had nonchalantly slung it, Kate sobbed, the flashback making her hyper aware that the garment now lay in my hands, as lifeless as Rana. She clutched it to her chest, crying on the kitchen floor.
Kate didn't look forward to spring anymore.