Perfection Comes at a Price, page 16
“Philippa darling, are you all right?” he asked with mounting worry.
Her eyes were open, but they had no expression in them. Her father’s fingers went to her pulse – nothing! A terrible wail escaped from Sir Philip. No, this could not be. His daughter could not be dead.
“Mami, wake up,” said Lucius, patting her cheek, “We need brandy.”
Lady Saunders had gathered what had happened. She needed to stay strong for the sake of her husband and grandchildren. Sir Philip had gone as white as a sheet. He was hardly taking in the reality. He was totally unable to cope with the thought that his beloved daughter lay there dead. Lucius too was in denial, he wanted to believe that his mother had only fainted. And what about Emma? The girl stood there, rooted to the spot, still with her coat on, just staring. Lady Saunders realised that it was deep shock. She addressed herself first to Lucius,
“Lucius, go phone your father. Right now. Tell him to call an emergency doctor and come home at once. I repeat, at once. Say your mother is seriously ill.”
Lucius went to do so.
Then she addressed Emma, taking her hand and said,
“Emma, darling, come here to the chair with me. Now sit down. We can deal with your coat later.”
“Daddy. We need Daddy. What’s wrong with Mami?”
“Your Mami is not well, darling. Daddy will be here in a minute.”
“Grandpa, is Mami waking yet?” called Lucius, returning.
“Philippa! Philippa! Apple of my eye. You can’t leave me,” wailed Sir Philip, “oh Lord above, not this, let it not be true. I can’t face a life without my little one. Steffi! Do something!”
Sir Philip had broken down completely. He sat by Philippa’s body, holding her head in his lap and wailing from the bottom of his heart. Lady Saunders saw that her husband was just as much in shock as Emma. She herself had to prop herself up for the sake of the living ones. She, the mother, had to keep calm whilst looking at the dead body of her one and only child. She could hear in her head an inner voice which said, ”Mama, stay strong for my children”. She would not let her daughter down, she was now next in line to be a mother to the two motherless children. She would find the strength to comfort them. They would probably be much easier than her husband. No parent was equipped to cope with the death of their children. That was the worst that could happen to anyone.
Lucius had joined his grandfather on the floor, and he was wailing as much as Sir Philip.
It was only about ten minutes, though it seemed like an eternity, till Eric got home. Lady Saunders went towards him,
“Philippa is dead.”
The terrible scene in front of his eyes told Eric that such a catastrophe had indeed happened. As Emma saw her father, she lifted her head and whispered,
“Daddy, Daddy. Help. What’s happened to Mami?”
She got up, but as she did so, she fainted. Eric managed to catch her fall.
“Emma. Emma darling. Estephania, get some water. Emma, Daddy’s here. Lucius, come over here to help me with Emma.”
Lady Saunders returned with some water. Emma had begun to get some colour. In a docile manner she swallowed a few mouthfuls of water.
“Mami?” she whispered.
“Mami’s gone, Emma, Mami’s in heaven…” Lucius’ voice broke.
Eric put his arms around his children.
“Daddy’s here. I am here for you. We need the whole family to comfort one another. Now I hear that the doctor has arrived. Lucius, hold Emma while I go to talk to him.”
The doctor saw an appalling scene. Before anything else, Emma and Sir Philip needed administering to. It took a lot of effort to make Sir Philip let go of Philippa’s body, but the doctor needed to make his examinations.
“How is it possible that my wife could just drop dead? She was only fifty and in good health,” asked Eric.
“There could be a myriad of reasons, replied the doctor, “an autopsy will have to be conducted. Only then will we know the reason. I’ll call an ambulance but now we need to get the grandfather and also your daughter to bed. I can see that the sedatives are beginning to work.
The doctor was very efficient and after caring for Emma and Sir Philip, he said that he would leave pills for the others to be taken as necessary. Then Emma was escorted to her room and Sir Philip into his, both of whom were now beginning to fall asleep.
Eric, Lady Saunders and Lucius went into the small drawing room. Eric phoned the Embassy to tell them what had happened. The Ambassador was appalled. He was an efficient man and he arranged for the Head of Chancery to step into whatever needed doing. Eric was not to be disturbed by any work matters. Nobody was to barge into the Flint household without previously phoning to get permission. London would have to be told. The autopsy would delay the transport of the body back home. There were the grandparents and the two children, now motherless at a delicate age. The Ambassador, who was very fond of Eric, felt most distressed for Eric’s plight.
From the work point of view, would Eric be able to stay on in Stockholm? If not, it would make it difficult at the Embassy. Eric was in many ways the Ambassador’s right-hand man. The Head of Chancery was infernally slow and ponderous. A good man, but infuriating. At anything sudden, the man was bad at coping. However, he was religious and so could probably give Eric the support that was needed, as Eric was a regular church-goer as well. Oh yes, the Anglican Chaplain would have to be told.
In the drawing-room Eric was mopping up his tears. His loss was enormous. His support during all the years was gone. The effect on their children was devastating, especially as their mother had died in front of them. How would Lucius cope, he who had been so close to his mother? He himself would be able to calm Emma down. She was a Daddy’s girl. How would the studies in school continue? He would have to explain that the two would have to do well for the sake of their mother’s memory. The schools were good, so they would be able to deal with stressed young. In situations like this, a lot of understanding was needed. Sir Philip would never be able to cope. He and Philippa had been two peas in the pod. The old man would never be the same again.
Lady Saunders would know that. She sat there quietly weeping, keeping herself calm. Lucius had by now stopped his crying and wailing. Now would come the period of fury. That of denial. That of questioning. Wanting to put the blame on something.
“Has mother been ill? And nobody told me? How could this happen?”
“No, son. Your mother has not been ill, but she has been rather tired lately. She tends to be tired during the winters.”
“Bloody winters! They’ve been too much for her. Curse this posting. If she had not had to suffer these cold winters, she would have remained alive.”
“We don’t know yet what killed her,” said Lady Saunders, “we have to wait for the result. And Lucius, death does happen, nobody knows the time when it comes to them, but one day we all have to go.”
“Mother was young.”
“Yes, she was young. She should not have died so early. I am her mother, don’t forget, she was my baby girl. But the positive in this is that she did not suffer at all. And she had led a very happy life, thanks to her loving husband and two wonderful children. Oh Lucius, her love has not left anybody, only her body has gone. Try to think of it in that way. I shall have an extremely heavy role with her father. Philip will not be able to cope.”
“Estephania”, said Eric,” I’m afraid you may be right. Philip is in a terrible state. I admire you. You are controlling yourself for the sake of others. And you are the mother.”
“My grief will be grieved in another way. Philippa would want her children to thrive and not be bogged down by too much sorrow. You, Eric, and I, are here to give strength to the rest.”
Eric was truly sad at losing Philippa. They had had a good marriage; they had got on well with each other. She had been a stalwart support in every sense. He had loved her very well, more than he had thought he could. The two children were the most precious gift from her. The grandparents had been ideal; their whole family life had been exemplary. Now the rest of them would have to make the best of the situation. They still had each other and formed a family. Eric would have to assume the role of a mother and a father. He would have to help Lady Saunders to prop up Sir Philip for the sake of the children.
The funeral had to be arranged as soon as they had finished the autopsy. He was himself wracked by the question, what on earth had killed Philippa?
“Estephania, I suggest that we do not change any of the travel arrangements. You and Philip go back on the twelfth. I shall accompany Lucius and Emma to their schools in order to have a proper talk with the Heads. I shall look into the funeral, the grave, the headstone, and so on. I will consult you two in the matter. I think it should be a family effort. It is now the ninth, so we still have some time all together.”
The autopsy did not take long. Philippa had died of a cerebral aneurism. Eric was reminded that lately she had complained of some headaches. The aneurism had lurked for some time in her body, a bit like a time-bomb, and nobody had had any idea of its existence. If it had been found out, then an operation could have saved her, but that was by no means certain. Her death had been instantaneous; she had not suffered at all.
To know that did not help the family grief. If Philippa had felt something, she had not said anything much, nor often, and thus nothing could be known, but she probably had been unaware of anything serious being wrong.
The effect on Lucius was to make him grow up with a jolt. Life was uncertain, anything could happen at any moment. Sorrow could hit at any time. One needed to treasure what one had, it could be taken away in an instant. He decided that for his mother’s memory’s sake he would study the best he could, he would come out with straight A’s; he would make her proud. He would be the best grandson his grandfather could wish for. His father was strong and would support his sister.
As for Emma, she clung closer than ever to her father. She needed his protective shield. Grandfather in this case was useless, in fact he was a big burden to his wife. But the family kept together, and with time their sorrow would become bearable.
Chapter 31
It was a good decision by Eric to complete his tour of Stockholm in spite of its being the place of the family disaster. He was already well-anchored in Sweden for over two years so he would not need to undertake any new subjects.
At first, it felt very odd to be alone. Eric had got used to having conversations with Philippa in the evenings. Now he did a lot of reading and also listened to classical music. His entertaining duties were carried out by the professional caterers that the couple had employed before. Thank heavens he was busy at work.
One marked change was that women flocked to him in droves. At dinner parties there was almost invariably a single woman between thirty and forty to be his dinner partner. Society obviously was trying to marry him off. No way. He needed his grieving time.
Lucius and Emma were doing well at school. They were very conscious of the fact that their father should be given no problems from their direction. At half-terms, there were Sir Philip and Lady Saunders. With Philippa gone, Sir Philip had turned towards his wife and had become far more dependent on her. He continued to pamper the grandchildren.
In London, when Katie learned from Nandita that Eric was a widower, her hopes rose immediately.
“What a pity that Eric still has a couple of years to remain in Sweden,” she said to Nandita, “now would have been the time for me to comfort him.”
“Just as well that he’s not here,” her friend replied, “It would have done you no good. The man needs to get over his sorrow and start to re-orientate his life. Even if it was not the greatest of love marriages, the couple were married for nearly twenty years. That binds people together. He must get used to being on his own. Also, don’t forget the two children. How do you think they would have taken to you comforting their father the moment their mother was dead? They would have got rid of you most effectively.”
“I didn’t think of that. You are right, if I got into the bad books of his children, then I will have no chance with Eric. I will have to be patient.”
“I can see and hear that you are planning a campaign to get Eric firmly in your clutches.”
“Yes. And? So what? With his being a widower, why should I not have chances? It is my dream to be his wife.”
“Yes, it has always been your dream. One day it may yet come true.”
“Oh Nandita. This opens a completely new time for me.”
Another new creative period in pottery would now begin, thought Nandita. She was curious as to what the new shapes would be like. Katie had given her as a present one of her works named “Childhood Play” in tones of red and pink. Nandita admired Katie’s skill in being able to make even the thinnest of thin forms in clay, to suit whatever shape she wanted.
Katie had been in correspondence with Horace. They exchanged letters about twice a year. Plus there were a number of cards from his travels. He had heard about Philippa’s death from Eric. What a tragedy, thought Horace, those poor children. It would be very difficult for Eric to be two parents at once, but mercifully there were active and supportive grandparents to help him.
And then his thoughts turned to Katie. This might change everything. Maybe at last she would have her chance. They were only forty-four years old, on the young side of middle age. A few years of grieving would first have to be surmounted, but then, life had to go on. And why would Eric not now use his opportunity to get Katie? One would see.
Eric came back to London in May 1992. He was pleased to be in his real home. He loved the house in Chelsea. He had been back about a week when he made his obligatory visit to his parents. It had been the same old tiring thing. After an hour he got up to go. It was only eight o’clock, and the evenings were light.
As he passed the old flat of the Patels and then turned into the main courtyard, he found himself facing Katie. Thus the two of them met each other again on the estate of their youth. It was like an electric shock for them when they saw each other. As their eyes met, they felt the same old irresistible pull towards each other as they had felt in their youth. Their hearts were pounding. In one fell swoop, all the years seemed to have been wiped away. They were there for each other.
The few words, “Katie, my love” and “Eric”, spoke volumes. As always, they turned together to walk away from the Estate, and only when they had turned the corner of the next building did Eric take Katie’s hand. That holding of her hand had always been a complete love declaration. And so it was now.
Eric escorted Katie to his car.
“Where to?”
“Where else but to Hammersmith?”
Eric’s eyebrows shot up.
“Chancellor’s road. I’ve been there since 1977. And Eric, no talking, concentrate on the driving. Eyes only on the road.”
It was easier said than done, but Eric closed his mind to anything but the traffic, for both their sakes. He could feel Katie’s presence. It felt they were one.
Katie’s heart was brimming over at being together with Eric again. It was a heady feeling. They were on their way to be truly united. Oh Eric.
When they finally got to her flat, the door had hardly had time to close when they fell into each other’s arms. For a long time they stood there stroking and kissing one another. In between Eric kept saying, “Katie, I love you” and she responded with the same. Then Katie said,
“There is something I need you to do with me.”
She went to her bedroom and came out holding an exquisite piece of pottery in various shades of blue. She beckoned Eric to follow her to the kitchen, and once there, she said,
“Now please hold this piece with me and help me to fling it on the floor with strength. Broken pottery means happiness.”
Eric was surprised, but he complied with her request. The piece broke into smithereens. Katie smiled, holding his hands and closing her eyes. Eric could feel how important the breaking of the crockery had been for her.
What she did not tell him was that the piece had been called “Sorrow” and that she had had it for twenty years. Also, in her mind was a story that she had heard somewhere, which told that in ancient Egypt a couple getting married broke a vase together. All old things were gone, and new life was to begin. Whether that was only a story or whether it was true did not matter to Katie, for her this was her marriage ceremony to Eric. A visual and tangible sign. She would keep one small piece and Eric would keep another. As she gave him his piece she said,
“We each keep a piece of this happiness.”
Eric smiled and found it lovely. His Katie had always been full of ideas.
Then Katie opened a bottle of wine and gave it to Eric, saying, “Please bring it to the bedroom, I’ll bring the glasses.”
They both had a sip and then started to undress. Eric was just about to fling his clothes off but Katie said smilingly, “No, Eric. Fold your clothes neatly as you always have done. Flinging is for me.”
Eric had to laugh. Katie was so sweet. She had always found his meticulous folding of his clothes funny. They were mentally in their youth, and it had to be exactly the same. And it was, except that now the precautionary measures were no longer needed. She could really feel and experience her Eric. They were like two playful puppies; they had played together since they were small. The playfulness made bearable the force of their deep feelings which were raging like wildfire.
Their night together was more than wonderful. The joy of being together was indescribable. Both could at last release all the pent-up passions that had mounted over the years. Only now did they become fully aware of how much they had missed one another. It was a vindication of the saying “old love does not rust”. They realised that neither had fallen in love with anyone else. They were unbreakably tied to one another; their childhood love had matured first into youthful love and then into adult love. They understood one another, they supported one another. They were fascinated by one another. Neither had to pretend anything in each other’s company and they were most naturally courteous and caring to each other. It was sheer bliss. And now they were both free!
