The Forgotten by Lou Eade

The Forgotten by Lou Eade

Author:Lou Eade [Eade, Lou]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-11T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 19

Tuesday Midday

The dunes loom majestically above sea level, casting an almost Egyptian-like silhouette against the coastline.

Under the midday sun, the air carries a warm, comforting embrace as Gerry and Elizabeth cross the makeshift path carved into the slope of the dunes, marking the edge of the beach.

“It’s so refreshing here, so calm. You can see for miles,” Elizabeth remarks, her grip on Gerry’s hand tightening as they ascend.

Gerry nods in agreement, his eyes scanning the vast expanse before them. “Over there is Southport. If you were to draw a straight line and build a bridge, it would take you straight there.”

Elizabeth follows Gerry’s gaze, her eyes tracing the outline of the distant town on the horizon.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she muses, her voice soft with admiration.

“Yes, it is,” Gerry responds, his tone filled with appreciation for the natural beauty surrounding them.

“And the dunes… they’re ever-changing. The landscape will be completely different tomorrow compared to today.”

As they reach the summit of the dunes, a gust of wind sweeps past them, carrying with it the sounds of laughter and excitement from the distance.

Children with sledges scamper to the top of the dunes, eagerly anticipating the exhilarating descent ahead. Their joyful cries echo through the air, mingling with the barks of dogs playing along the vast, empty beach.

Small pools of seawater glisten in the sunlight, nestled within the divots of the sand, adding to the tranquil ambience of the seaside scene.

Gerry’s voice breaks the silence, laden with a hint of sadness.

“I have the quote come through for Mum’s funeral,” he says.

Elizabeth’s expression softens with sympathy.

“Ok, what are they quoting?” she enquires gently.

“£4,800,” Gerry responds somberly.

“And that’s for the budget funeral.”

Elizabeth wraps her arm around Gerry’s waist, drawing him closer to her.

“Does it have to be budget? Or is that what she wanted?” she probes, curious about Annie’s wishes.

“It’s written in her will. We’re to pay no more than £5,000,” Gerry explains.

“She doesn’t want anything lavish, just a simple service followed by a cremation. Then some snacks and a few drinks back at the bungalow.”

“Well, then you’ve achieved that, haven’t you?” Elizabeth offers reassurance.

Gerry nods in agreement.

“Yes, I must accept the quote and pick a date. They’ve given the end of next week as the earliest day—Friday. After that, they’re talking about going into the New Year.”

“Is next Friday too soon?” Elizabeth questions, her brow creasing with apprehension.

Gerry contemplates her question.

“Not for me. I thought it might be for you, though, what with having old folk coming to the bungalow. I have no idea how being around strangers will affect you.”

“I’m happy with whatever makes you happy, my love,” Elizabeth responds sincerely, her understanding evident.

“I feel well enough to entertain, and the bungalow is pretty much straight and sorted, so there’s no worry there. The only thing that worries me is doing any cooking,” Elizabeth laughs lightly, acknowledging the practical challenges.

“It’s ok, I’ll get a caterer in. We don’t need the stress of all the cooking,” Gerry reassures her, sharing in her laughter.

He continues.



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