Wearing Purple

Chapter 31

After destroying my dad’s happy life, I took the Faustino, and a glass, and went down to the beach below the hamlet. I climbed up on the old Greek wall, a relic from the time before Christ — whoever he might have been — and I sat there in the pale moonlight, drinking toast after toast to Jan, and one or two to the child that we never had.

When the bottle was finished, I threw it into the sea, and the glass after it, then lay down on my back on the wall, and, looking up at the stars, I let the dam burst. I cried through all the hours of darkness, shouting the occasional pointless ‘Why?’ into the night, as I stretched out there with a great slab of grief pressing down on my chest.

My weeping had barely subsided as the first light of the new day began to creep into the eastern horizon. To this day, I don’t know what made me do it, but I clambered down off the wall, stripped off my clothes and ran into the sea. I swam three hundred yards across the cove to the jetty which marked its limit then, turning, swam back.

When I strode out of the Mediterranean, and back up the beach, I felt no better — the griefstone was still unbearably heavy — but I knew that I had cried myself out for a while. I slipped on my boxer shorts, gathered the rest of my clothes into a bundle, and ran barefoot up the steep road which led back to the village, back to Prim’s apartment.

Inside, I walked straight across to the sofa, and spread out my clothes, as neatly as I could. When I turned she was standing behind me, in the kitchen doorway, wearing a towelling robe which had once been mine, and with a faint, tired smile on her face.

‘Changed your mind, did you?’ she asked.

‘What d’you mean?’

‘You look as if you chucked yourself in the sea, then thought better of it.’

‘Maybe I did.’

She came towards me, holding out another mug of coffee. ‘How d’you feel now?’

‘To be honest, I wish I was dead,’ I told her, frankly. ‘But I can’t afford that luxury, not yet anyway. I got a lot of stuff out of my system down there though; enough to let me get home and do what I have to do.’

‘Mmm. How was Mac?’

‘As you’d expect for someone who’s lost a daughter. I can’t bear to think of Mary, not yet.’

Primavera looked me solemnly in the eye. ‘You’ll never be a boy again, my poor Oz. You’ve aged ten years overnight.’ It wasn’t the most comforting thing anyone had ever said to me, but it was certainly among the most honest.

‘In that case, I’m ten years nearer. . whatever there might be.’ I cut off that line of conversation, firmly. ‘How’s the hot water situation?’ I asked.

‘Plenty. I’ve just showered. Have a bath and get some heat back into you. You look frozen. Go and soak in there for as long as you like.’

I took her at her word, so much so that when she knocked on the door an hour later, she woke me. I found myself lying in the small bath in tepid water. I had been afraid to fall asleep, afraid of what I might dream, and afraid, I suppose, of waking for the first time into a world without Jan in it.

‘You ready?’ she called. ‘Because there’s a call for you.’

I climbed out of the bath, wrapped myself in a towel and dripped my way across the living room floor. The caller was Everett, with news of my flight. ‘Barbara’s got you booked on an Iberia flight from Barcelona to Paris at eleven thirty-five, connecting with an Air France flight at two fifteen through Birmingham. You’ll be in Glasgow by four thirty. That okay for you? It’s the earliest she could do.’

‘That’s fine, Ev. I can make that.’

‘Good. I’ll have her get into your room and pack your stuff. Your passport there?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay. I’ll have her put it in your bag and leave it at the hotel reception. You just pick it up on the run. And collect your tickets at the Iberia desk, Terminal A. Don’t worry about payin’ for them, that’s done.’ He paused. ‘Can you tell me now what this is about?’ he asked.

So I did; and was left marvelling that my wife had such an effect on people that a seven foot two inch man, who could turn Parmesan to Danish Blue just by looking at it, who had met her on only three occasions, could be struck speechless by her death. He whispered, ‘Oh my,’ then there was silence. The line was still open, but there was silence. I could picture him staring at the phone, then looking at Diane, open-mouthed, then back at the phone.

‘See you in Glasgow,’ I said, and hung up. Half an hour later, we were en route for Barcelona.

We made it to the airport, via the hotel, in plenty of time, even though Prim insisted on driving. I was happy to let her: all the icy horror of the night before had gone. Instead I felt weak and dog-tired, partly from lack of sleep, partly from the strain of bearing my burden of grief. She drove me right up to the Iberia terminal.

‘At the risk of having you shout at me again,’ she said, ‘you will be okay, won’t you?’

I made myself smile at her. ‘I will now. I’m sorry I was a bit scary last night, Prim. It was pretty tough keeping control of myself for a while.’

She chuckled. ‘Listen, I’ve seen scary. You weren’t that bad.’

‘Whatever I was, you being there helped me. I wouldn’t have wished that on you for the world, but still I valued your presence.’ I leaned across and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Got to go now.’ I started to climb out of the car, then paused. ‘Can you do one more thing for me, pal? Phone the hospital where Jerry is, and find out how he’s doing, then give me a call to let me know.’

‘Of course I will, but there’s just one problem — I don’t have your number.’

‘That’s not a problem at all.’ I took a card from my wallet and handed it to her. ‘See you,’ I said, closed the car door and headed into the terminal.