Nothing's Fair in Love and War

Chapter Thirteen - 'I never thought I'd leave it all so late'

“My mum,” Kath bubbled. “My mum was-”

She broke down, hunkering sobs escaping from her distraught frame as she trembled. Next to her, Harold looked pained.

“Sweetie, you don't have to say anything.” he assured her, trying in vain to comfort.

“I-I need to,” Kath wailed, aware of her tear-rimmed eyes and snotty nose. She'd spent the last weeks doing little else but cry; for what she had lost, for what she regretted, for what chances she'd missed forever now.

“No, you don't,” her father said, the pain crackling in his voice too. “People know you loved your mother. They'll understand that the memory's too painful. Nobody will judge you.”

Kath sniffed, opening her mouth but not speaking. “I di-didn't love my mother, though.”

When the confession was out, a new stream of tears came too. Like a waterfall they collapsed from her cold body, wringing the regret from every memory bit by bit.

“Kathryn, even I know that you did,” Harold said soothingly. “You didn't show it, but it was obvious enough. You don't need to feel guilty, or have any regrets. You need to savour the good memories, and live you life as if she were still alive.”

Ignoring her father's attempt at comforting her, Kath stared out ahead of her. “I want to say something, Dad.”

Harold sighed. “Of course you can, love. But if it's going to be too hard for you, I don't see the point.”

“I've finished my poem, Dad,” bustling through the door, her face half-triumphant, half echoing sorrow, Lucy waved a flimsy piece of paper round. Wearing a sad grin, her father pulled her into his arms.

“Do you want to read it out, Luce?” he asked tenderly.

Lucy shook her head, blonde curls drooping. “I want to bury it with her.”

Not having the heart to tell her that there was no body for it to be buried with, Harold assured her that it would be done. “Do you want to read it at the funeral?” he asked.

Lucy looked down, a tear falling with her. “I don't like big crowds.”

Kath smiled slightly. “Me neither.”

With a short grin, Lucy turned to her big sister. “Shall we read it together? You, me and Dan?”

Kath summed up the idea, before nodding slowly. “If he'll agree.”

But he took no persuading. Subdued since his unfortunate runaway incident, Daniel had been altogether easier to get along with, although there was a new found toughness in him that was now channeled into comforting, and protecting, his sisters.

The loss of his mother was, of course, excruciatingly painful for him. Distance had meant they'd never been close, but there'd been a time when he'd longed to follow in her footsteps; when she could do no wrong in his eyes. The loss of such a hero past, was naturally painful.

Their father had allowed all his children to skip school, for the first weeks when the pain had been greatest anyway. Finally realizing that Dan was unhappy, however, Harold had called the school, requesting that his son could move classes, and in a way, start a fresh. Joyously, Dan had done so.

Lucy too seemed to be coping well. The full blow had hardly sunk in with her, and at points Harold wondered whether it ever would. He thought, perhaps, that time would be the only teller, and possibly the only healer too.

Kathryn, however, had taken the loss of her mother the worst. Their unapproachable terms, Harold knew, had left her riddled with unnecessary guilt. However he could recall the days when Kath doted on her mother equally. As the eldest child, and a daughter too, there had been a bond between them so strong that it was noticed by all; noticed, and admired. And now, that bond was lost forever.