"Well?" Only ten minutes late, Zoe had picked Sharice up, and was now taking her back to her flat. "How was that?"
"Good. I think. We talked, not just about mum, but about other stuff, too. I think it's going to be OK now."
Kaye had put Sharice's mind at rest. Everything had been twisted up by grief, so that rationality and responsibility for her granddaughter had been lost, and she hadn't realised that Sharice wasn't coping with her own losses. Kaye had apologized for blaming Sharice, and Sharice had apologized for running away. They had promised to talk more: about Abby, about her grandfather, about how they were feeling. The newfound openness and closeness between them was refreshing, but they both needed space for a few days.
"I won't say I told you so." Zoe winks at Sharice, who grins back.
"Thank you, Zoe. I know this has all been stressful for you, but I don't think we would have sorted it out if you hadn't stepped in."
"Sharice, please don't thank me. I do still care about you, you know. And after you go back to your nana's, we are going to speak more. You are always welcome in my spare room for a girly night in, or we can go out for dinner sometimes, or we can just have a chat on the phone, but I don't want you ever feeling like you can't talk to me, or running away again. I don't want another yesterday."
"Was it only yesterday? It feels like weeks ago."
"Mhmm. Listen. We've got a while before dinner yet. What do you want to do?"
She thinks for a moment. She wonders if this is the right thing to ask. She goes ahead with it anyway, she trusts Zoe implicitly. "Can we go to Mum's grave?"
Zoe smiles and nods. "If that's what you want, then that's what we'll do."
Sharice pauses. "Could we buy some snowdrops please?"
"I'm no florist, but I don't think that June's the right time of year for snowdrops, I'm afraid. We can find something else though, eh?"
It's strange how this slab of concrete and some carvings represent a life. Laughter and tears, joy and fear, love and loss, are all lost in-between two inscribed dates and a name. It doesn't matter though. Between Sharice, Zoe and Kaye, there are enough memories of Abby to keep a flicker of her alive. Sharice lays the sunflowers on the grass before her mother's gravestone. They have chosen sunflowers because of what Kaye had said about Abby's incurable happiness. The beaming yellow paint a heavy contrast with the greys and the greens and the browns of the graveyard, like a little ray of sunshine.
They are neither of them under any illusions that Abby had been a saint. She had been weak, had stolen and lied, but she had loved her daughter. Sharice knows that, can still faintly remember the tightness of her mother's embrace, although it's like a shadow now. More real is the love that both Kaye and Zoe have for her, the feel of her grandmother's arm round her shoulders, and the safety of Zoe's hand in hers. She squeezes, Zoe's nails digging slightly into her palm.
"Are you ready?" Zoe asks. Their eyes meet, and an understanding passes between them. They know that they won't let go now, whether Sharice is living in Holby with Kaye, or in Spain. They will have this bond wherever they go.
"I'm ready."