Daisy looked at the clock. She did that a lot these days. She sipped from the Royal Doulton. She did that a lot too. No more chipped mugs or dog hair adorning the sofa. She'd had to refine herself since coming to live with Hyacinth. There had been almost no one left. It was the choice of Hyacinth or Violet. Better the devil you know, reckoned Daisy. The devastation that had left a dark void in their lives by losing family members weeks apart had never healed. They barely had time to mourn Rose before Daddy had exited. Pneumonia. It was to be expected for his age. But Hyacinth could barely sing his praises, so consumed with grief for their little sister. Their vibrant, chirpy, vastly irritating lustful little sister. The one that Hyacinth had pinned her hopes on making a suitable marriage to finally tame her of her wild ways. Lost to the cruel ravages of cancer. She wasted away within a few months, a small mercy. Rose didn't hold with lingering slowly, she was fast and furious. She had been so loved. By all her family, by her lovers, those who were still around. Onslow and his cousins had had to form a shield at the funeral. Richard practically had to carry his wife into the church and cradle her as she sobbed into her handkerchief. She had been inconsolable. They had never seen her so bereft. She'd been in shock and that was the worst bit. She was the glue that was holding them together and she was weakening. Elizabeth had done everything she could but she was not to be comforted. Only Richard could be her rock and he bore his duty without complaint. His wife's tender heart had been mercilessly trampled on and ribboned out in streamers of unadulterated sadness. Her wretched crumpled grief had been overwhelming and for the first time in their marriage, he had seen the true depths of her love for them.
Onslow's death had been no different. Fourteen troublesome years later and cancer had grimly danced him off too. It had been a torturous process, step by step and everyone had found it hard to deal with. Hyacinth mourned for the loss of someone, no matter how grating to her personally, who had been so cherished by her sister. She cried for Daisy, for the loss of her companion. Daisy was overwhelmed with gratitude that she had recognised that. They limped through another year, Daisy finally coming to join them in a fit of impulsiveness. Hyacinth didn't object. Daisy could admit to being lonely. She couldn't stand the silence that dripped from the ceilings and trickling down the wall like mould. The emptiness of the rooms, the space that should have been her husband's side of the bed, vacant. She had to mind herself in her new home but her sister was better company than none. Daisy made an effort to socialise with Elizabeth and Emmet from next door, Emmet confiding that he wished he'd taken Rose up on her offer. Elizabeth grinned at that, imagining her staid brother with the fiery fickle Rose. She'd have knocked him off his feet if he'd let her. Daisy dredged up a smile at her impulsive baby sister. She'd give a lot to have her old life back. Even that mangy old dog would have been a comfort. Fat chance in her new lodgings.
Daisy sighed at the memory of those teatimes. She missed those. She missed Richard. Calm, comforting Richard. His occasional sarcastic quips. His patience and fondness for the family. The time they spent together chatting and indulging Hyacinth on her endeavours. He found it easier with Daisy there as backup. Her favourite brother-in-law. Not that she had plenty to choose from. Only a four years ago he'd popped off and then she'd had to deal with Hyacinth without much of a buffer. Next door came to the rescue but by then, Daisy had been exhausted dealing with her sister's anguish. This time, Hyacinth had rallied round to competently deal with the funeral and the arrangements. A week later she'd collapsed into a ball of misery. Her world was shrinking and the control she exerted to keep everyone in check was starting to dissolve.
They sat solemnly in front of the TV for the Queen's funeral.
To think that Richard was not by her side to commiserate with her felt more than she could bear.
'The end of an era' she had commented. Daisy agreed and said little else for the day. it felt like their world had ended. Everything and everyone they knew and felt safe with had been thrown to the jaws of time. There were times when they missed their husbands so badly they could barely finish a task. Daisy started to get up earlier in the day, taking walks around the block, pottered around and thought about volunteering at the charity shop. A pile of romance novels had taken Onslow's place on the bed. She had now replaced Richard as Hyacinth's chauffeur. She had to admit that it gave her a thrill to be driving such a posh one after a lifetime of that old banger that she barely got her hands on anyway. She minded the cows and the pedestrians dutifully. After a long while, Hyacinth felt a bit more composed to start returning back to something resembling normality but she had lost a lot of her spark. She had become quieter, less insufferable. Her smile tended to be sadder these days. Hardly anyone rang on the phone anymore.
The Major strode round every week for tea, kept them company. He had rather amusingly spent their entire acquaintance chasing Hyacinth and fumbling about her person. He'd given up his romantic notions upon Richard's death and was treating Hyacinth respectfully. She had been doing well for a while, until next door Elizabeth had passed away last year. Emmet had sorrowfully informed them. He moved to the other side of town after the funeral and they didn't hear from him these days. Daisy fought back tears thinking about her. She knew that Elizabeth been as much as a rock as Richard had been, tolerating Hyacinth's exacting and flamboyant demands with resigned grace. She missed Elizabeth terribly. She knew her sister did too. She mentioned her as often as she mentioned her husband. Life was just not the same with her, without any of them.
They sat there, two old women with the time ticking away. Nothing but tea and memories to keep them awake.