A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. This story has not been beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own. No copyright infringement intended.

The remnants of loss

Chapter 1

It had taken her the better part of the night but she'd finally fallen asleep; drawn into Morpheus' comforting arms by the soothing, melodious sound of her younger voice on the record player. She'd woken up the next morning, annoyed at awakening in her chair again causing her hip to fail her once more. Her annoyance served to fuel the anger she felt remembering the previous night's events, strengthening her resolve to confront her so-called friends about their ridiculous notion of getting the quartet back together. Honestly! What had gotten into them? The very idea of it was quite simply preposterous. Who would want to see a couple of geriatrics on stage, trying desperately to hold onto past successes and making utter fools of themselves, mere shadows of the magnificent performers they used to be? Moreover, had they really thought they could trick her into performing again, and in such a deceitful and hurtful way at that – under the guise of dinner and a night out together, for old times' sake. They'd let her believe they still cared about her, all the while intent on forcing her to do the one thing she'd sworn she would never do again: perform. The feeling of having been betrayed had made her even more determined to give them a piece of her mind.

After Jean had gone down to the dining room this morning and said her piece, getting in a satisfying jab at Anne Langley as well – she hadn't been able to help herself – she'd left seeking the peace and quiet of her room. Her sanctuary, lonely though it may be. However, things had then unexpectedly spiraled out of control, resulting in her lashing out at Cissy. She'd almost immediately regretted her outburst and gone after Cissy, but her stubborn pride kept her from acting on the urge. Instead, she'd sunk back down onto her bed, clasping the broken flowers in her hand, and allowed the tears of desperation to slowly trickle down her face; the feeling of loss and regret all too familiar.

Now, several hours later, after having spent most of the day in her room, ashamed to face anyone, she found herself alone in the cold, yet again. Cissy was recovering in the hospital wing and Jean was sure it would be some time before she, or Reg and Wilf for that matter, would be willing to speak to her again. The answer to the simple question as to why all of this could have happened when their friendship had finally been on the mend, eluded her.

She had known when she'd made the decision to move into Beecham House that the comfortable life she'd led up until then would be experiencing some bumps in the road. For one thing, she was convinced – and rightfully so, it seemed – that Reggie wouldn't be too pleased to lay eyes on her again after decades of having kept their distance from each other, both professionally and personally. Nevertheless, Beecham House had been her first and only choice after it had become apparent that she could no longer live by herself in her beautiful, spacious flat due to that bloody hip of hers acting up.

"Why was it that when the mind was still willing, the body decided to opt out?," she kept wondering.

Beecham House was the only home for the elderly that housed former musicians and performers, and Jean was certain she would be able to feel at home amongst her peers, surrounded by the music she adored. It was a mere coincidence that Reggie also happened to live there – at least, that's what she'd talked herself into believing after she'd signed the admittance papers. His presence had in fact been influential in choosing Beecham House, even though she knew she couldn't afford to live there. Thankfully, she'd gotten some financial backing – or pity money as she mockingly liked to refer to it – which enabled her to pay for her room and board. The impending confrontation with her former husband was never far from her mind though.

In the weeks leading up to the move, the feelings of anxiety and trepidation had increased and Jean had even entertained the thought of calling the whole thing off and moving into another retirement home. That was until she had decided she was too old to allow fear to take over her life or live with regret any longer. She was certain that as time went on, she and Reggie would be able to live side by side in a civil and well-mannered way. Naturally, their first encounter would be awkward and probably even painful, but this time they would talk things over once and for all in order to put the past where it belonged – in the past. Jean had been imagining how their conversation would play out, going over what it was that she wanted to say to Reggie, again and again. But even though her words were heartfelt, they now sounded insincere and rehearsed. And how could she even begin to atone for the egregious mistake she had made nearly fifty years ago?

At the time she had apologized profusely at every opportunity, of which there weren't many, but to no avail. With the move to Beecham House, she was hoping to finally lay those demons to rest that had been plaguing her ever since that morning when she'd confessed to Reggie she had been unfaithful to him. She could still picture the scene so clearly in her mind, just like it was yesterday. She'd wholeheartedly believed their love and connection to be strong enough to overcome even the worst of times. But she had been proven wrong. So terribly wrong...