"Don't wait up for me tonight going out with some uni friends,invite your imaginary girlfriend round,oh and I had the last of the pop tarts,sorry I'll get some more tomorrow ,maybe.
Love Grace
P.S mum rang she wants to know when we're going back up? (Hopefully never)"
Tom's P.O.V
I can't help myself, I collapse against the side table with misery,her neat swirly writing blurring through my tears. "Tom" Sam quivers, sliding her arm around me her hair tickling my chin "it's a note from Grace" I sob "can I see?" She asks, a large part of me doesn't want to give it to her , I want to treasure it,frame it keep it forever so I can never forget but I pass it to her anyway,her eyes scan the note, a lighthearted joke that meant next to nothing to Grace but yet holds great value to me. Beside the writing is a stick girl resembling Grace, she has drawn wild spirals on her circular head representing her lioness curls, I smile even a small part of Graces's bubbly personality is on this page, her stick persons grin is comical almost reaching her googley eyes. " I will never forget her Sam,not ever" I choke "Course you won't" Sam soothes twirling my hair in her fingers.
When I summon the strength I trot through into the kitchen, her bowl of weetabix remains,milk still dribbled beside the bowl, I sit opposite her vacant chair, I regret coming here so much, it's too hard but I know I need to ring my parents so we can discuss what happened,to decide what happens next. Grace would want to be cremated she was a free spirit and so deserves to be set free in her favourite place. She loved topshop but I don't know if they'd be too happy if I scattered my deceased sister there, she loved Paris, she was brilliant at French,she was always good at the creative stuff at school, English, drama,French, art while I was so boring with endless far out in the countryside where she can go with the wind,go anyway like she did on her bike.
The phone rings, it rings and rings but neither of us can bring ourselves to move, to move hurts my aching joints, I'm too consumed in a depression to move right away but it take as matter of seconds to Sam to pick up the phone, my mothers shrill voice echoes down she hands it to me,bewildered by the whole situation "hi mum" "Tom! Thank god you're answering! What happened! Why haven't you been picking up, you scared me half to death, I need you Tom, your dad and I need you-" she jabbers "mum" I say cutting her off " come round to the flat we need to discuss Graces's funeral and stuff" I state calmly "ok, we're on our way now" she replies.
I contemplate moving Grace's things for the sake of my mother but I don't want to touch anything Grace might of touched, that still have her finger prints on,it's like being at the scene of a crime,you don't want to disturb the evidence. I open the doorway shocked to unveil my mother her eyes are still blood shot with the biggest eye bags I've ever seen they're more like suitcases,her hair is unbrushed, she looks completely disheveled,it sounds cruel but she looks 10 years older in her state of misery "Come in" I instruct, hurt still edged in my voice, I don't want to bear any grudges but I can't help but feel completely deceived and angry at my parents. Sam has made coffee I can smell it from the hall as we fall into the sitting room "look Tom, we're sorry we couldn't tell you,but how do you tell your son what we did?" My dad begins to explain "Lies never last" I interject "it doesn't matter we need to talk about her funeral arrangements" I tell them as Sam passes mugs of coffee around,my parents smile gratefully raising their eyebrow in surprise at Sam's presence "this is Sam, you've already met, my girlfriend" I teach them proudly. "I think Grace needs to come home to be laid to rest" my mother suggests ignorantly, I can't help but think she must know that Grace wouldn't want that, I feel like I know her inside out,maybes our mother just doesn't know her at all. "I think she would of liked to be cremated that way she could always be free" I tell my parents who gaze at me ,their eyes stinging with guilt "here in Holby,she loved it here" I inform my mother and father they nod obligingly,I wonder if they are just doing it to appease me but I shrug off the idea.
An hour passes as we discuss everything that needs to be done, my parents are going back to our childhood home to get some stuff to bring back down to Holby so they can be here for the funeral, we cried a lot but I feel like I'm beginning to forgive them. In parting words I finally ask them what has been playing on my mind for the past hour or so "Our mum, can you send me the address,or her number,I want to contact her" my mum just nods "sure" too frightened to put a foot out of line after her misgivings. I close the door softly sighing as they leave "you want to meet your biological mother" Sam enquires surprised "I want her to come to Graces's funeral,show her what she missed" I reply bluntly.