Light Through the Vines by Fiona Valpy

Light Through the Vines by Fiona Valpy

Author:Fiona Valpy [Valpy, Fiona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-31T16:00:00+00:00


And so, of course, at 2 a.m. I’m wide awake and staring at the spare-room ceiling. Lafite is curled up in a neat ball at the end of the bed, sleeping peacefully. But my mind is racing. That cup of coffee at the Everetts’ was definitely a mistake.

I can’t stop replaying that moment when I thought Cédric was going to say something more. What would it have been? Something along the lines of ‘Fancy an affair?’, I suppose. Just like every other cheating scumbag, I think bitterly.

But he seems so different, not at all the type, says the voice of hope. Don’t be naive, it’s the French national pastime, says the voice of realism.

To distract myself from this frustrating cycle of thoughts – which is getting me nowhere, least of all to sleep – I turn my mind to the cardboard box on the kitchen table. Where am I going to scatter Liz’s ashes and where am I going to store the casket until I get around to the act of scattering? Rationally, of course, it’s just a pile of dust. Earth to earth and all that. But you can’t get away from the fact that this dust is the last remnant of Liz’s physical presence. And something that’s been so dear and so familiar deserves – demands – to be treated with respect. No, respect is too cold a word. With love. Whatever she might have been to my father, she was a wonderful aunt – and friend – to me. One of the people on this planet who really loved me. And there aren’t very many of those left, I reflect with a sudden rush of self-pity.

Sorry, but four o’clock in the morning really is the loneliest of hours.

I pull myself together. Okay, forget about where to scatter her ashes for the moment. Let’s just decide where to put the damn urn in the meantime.

I don’t think I can bring myself to put it on the mantelpiece in the kitchen. It would put me off my food to sit looking at a jar of mortal remains every mealtime. I could keep it in the study, but I’ll be spending quite a bit of time in there when I really get started on my coursework and I don’t want it to be a constant distraction. I could stick it in the broom cupboard in the utility room and try to forget about it, but that seems far too callous, so it’d be on my conscience. Which would mean I couldn’t forget about it at all.

The sitting room seems like the best compromise. It’s not a room Liz ever really used much, but it seems respectful, with the air of formality that death demands, and at the same time is slightly out of the way of my daily life.

I know I’m not going to be able to get to sleep until I’ve moved the urn, so I slide out of bed carefully so as not to disturb Lafite and pad through to the kitchen.



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