Chapter 4

 

Chapter 4

 

It happened in 1985 when I had just left school and me and Nikki were soon having our 16th birthday. I think it was a Thursday to my best recollection. I had been planning on applying for a few colleges with Nikki, who was still living with us. Me and Nikki sat on the sofa in the living room going through some college information. My Mother was sitting in our newly purchased puffy armchair, which was by the living room window. She was reading a paperback book, I cannot recall the title of the book. It was around 7pm when I heard the front door open, my Dad came into the room and went straight over to the small cupboard which rested on the other side of the room, opposite the puffy armchair. He pulled open the cupboard door and shakily took out a decanter of whisky. He pulled out a glass as well and poured himself a glass of whisky.

“What’s wrong dear?” My Mother asked but my Father waved this question off as he drank. He finished the drink and slammed the glass onto the top of the cupboard. Now all eyes of the room were rested upon my Father. With a quick motion, my Father tightly grabbed his chest. He began to scream in agony and my Mother rushed from her chair to help him followed by myself and Nikki. Sweat submerged my Fathers white shirt. His face was pale and vacant. Just as my Mother got to him, he fell backwards, I froze in utter horror as my Father hit the floor.

We was too late.

     Once the paramedics arrived, three minutes after my Mother called them, they told us that my Father was dead. One of the paramedics reached for a radio that was fixed to his shoulder and called for the coroner, then they both left. My Mother fell to her knees and began to cry heavily. At this, I began to silently weep, Nikki coming to hug me. She embraced my tightly, my head rested on my shoulder. My Mother was now screaming. I was still crying and I felt I could never let go of the security that was Nikki’s warm body.

     The next day was very painful and full of sadness. The pain and sadness hung over our house. My Father’s body had been taken to the coroners office a few hours after he had died. We were told to await a letter telling us how he died and when we could collect the body for burial. That letter came, at around 11am on the Friday morning. My Mother had cried herself to sleep last night and if I’m honest so did I. I told this to Nikki.

“I cried myself to sleep last night. Pathetic, I know, but I just couldn’t help it.” Tears running down my face and my nose was running slightly as well. Nikki took my hands in her lap, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. My Mother took the letter from a delivery man. She opened it read it and ran off upstairs sobbing heavily and dropping the letter. It floated to the hallway floor, by the stairs. I was standing in the living room doorway. I strode over to the letter and rescued it from the floor. I read it carefully:

 

Dear Mrs. Irons,

My deepest condolences on the recent loss of your husband. As you probably know I write this letter to many people but that does not hold back the sympathy for each person I write too. I do hope that the truthful cause of death of your husband will lift some anguish of your bereavement. Enclosed is a official copy of the death certificate and information that will tell you when you may be able to receive your husbands body and personal possessions.

Once again my deepest condolences.

 

Yours Sincerely

Albert Richardson

Chief Medical Examiner

 

Once I had read the letter I realised that my Mother could not actually handle looking at the death certificate as the envelope lay on the bottom stair. I laid the letter next to the envelope then I picked up the envelope. Inside it contained two sheets of paper, folded to fit into the envelope. I took the first sheet and placed the envelope under my left arm. I opened the paper out and the top of the page was a heading:

Death Certificate

 

I scanned it until I nearly reached the bottom. There was a box of writing that caught my attention. It had a small headline and a single sentence:

 

Official Cause Of Death:

Heart attack due to high blood pressure and extreme stress.

 

That was it, a piece of crappy paper that was supposed to make me and my Mother feel better. ‘I do hope that the truthful cause of death of your husband will lift some anguish of your bereavement,’ These words that I had just seen on that letter echoed continuously in my head like a horrific migraine. I began to sob gently, my tears hitting the paper that I held in my hand. Then I became overwhelmed with grief and anger that this was supposed to help my over the loss of my Father. I punched the wall giving it a huge dent as it spluttered out plaster like it was blood. My fist was throbbing and I began to cry harder than ever before, I turned on my feet and fell to my knees with my head in my hands. Then some arms were around me, holding me as I kneel on the floor. Without looking, I realised it was Nikki, because a got a strong scent of her smell. I carried on crying, Nikki sobbing quietly in my ear. I always knew that Nikki would always be there for me as I would be for her.

     My Father’s funeral was four days later. We arranged with a funeral home to prepare the body for burial the day after we got that letter. That day was full of sorrow. The funeral was scheduled for 6pm. It was a very rainy day. My Mother, wearing a black veil over her face, stepped out of the jet black limousine. I followed then Nikki after that. It was just the three of us. We stood in the church, hearing the priest say his things and when we went outside we were greeted by about 20 people. All friends and co-workers of my late Father. They all stood there in a line, men and women. Presenting a small wall of black. My Mother nodded to them in thanks and swept past them heading for the recently dug hole in the ground. Nikki and I followed, her arm around my shoulders. We stood next to the hole as the coffin was brought over and the wall of mourners gathered behind us. Rain was still falling hard, it did not effect us though because how we all felt. Painful silence and grief filled our souls. The priest began speaking again as the coffin was lowered into the ground, supported by ribbons. My Mother began weeping heavily, and I too started to cry. Our tears falling on the coffin beneath our feet. I felt that the service was over fast, because once the priest had made the punch line: “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” The wall of mourners began to disperse, some of the coming over to give their condolences before they departed. My Mother could no longer take looking at the polished wooden box so she turned quickly, hand over her mouth and cried all the way back to the limousine.

     A week after the funeral, the marble, shinny tombstone was placed over my Fathers head. I visited frequently with my Mother and Nikki often came with us to pay her respects and support me. Nikki had been star in this time. She tried not to speak of the recent matters, just to be by my side.

     Now on to a different subject. Mine and Nikki’s exam results. They had finally came though three weeks after we had left school. We were contacted by our school to pick up the results, so we did. We decided to wait to uncover our results before we officially applied to colleges, just to keep our options open. I told my Mother this and she thought it was a wise decision. And it would be. Once we had picked up our results, which was sealed in a A4 size envelope, I began to open mine when Nikki stopped me.

“Wait!”

“What? Why?” I replied.

“Let’s wait till we get back home.”

“Why?” I repeated.

“So we can share it properly with your Mum.” She suggested.

I sighed, “Ok then.” And then we walked home together.

     Once we set foot in my house, I went in search of my Mother while Nikki went to wait in the living room. I did not find my Mother in any place downstairs so I proceeded upstairs. I found my Mother in her bedroom, sitting with her head down on the end of the bed. Se did not respond to my entrance just sat there. I realised that she was going through an old photograph book. I knew this because I recognised the red leather cover with gold edges. I moved closer and saw she was looking at a photo of myself and my Father. I felt slightly awkward, so I broke the awkward silence.

“We’ve got our results, Mum.” I told her. She seemed to snap back to reality. Then turned all cheerful.

“Oh, excellent, let’s take a look at them.” She replied, her tone full of happiness. Then she got up and walked out of her room with me at her heels. Once we were at the bottom of the stairs, I over took her and escorted her to the living room. Once inside I saw Nikki awaiting us in the puffy armchair, my Mother had not sat in that chair since my Father passed. So instead she sat on the sofa and I joined her.

“Nikki, you go first.” I told Nikki, who suddenly had a nervous look on her face.

“Oh, I - I don’t know.” She replied, hesitating a bit, her voice slightly shaky.

“Fine, I’ll go first.” I said, taking charge. I opened my brown envelope, and pulled out the piece of paper that might decide my future. I skipped reading out my personal information. I looked down and saw my subjects and grade results listed. I read them out, listing subject, then the grade for that subject. My Mother and Nikki were listening intently.

“English: Grade B. Maths: Grade A. Science: Grade A. History: Grade C. English Literature: Grade B. Geography: Grade C and Religious Education: Grade D.” I told them, never removing my eyes from the future-deciding paper that I held in my hands. Now I took my eyes from the page. Nikki looked happy, yet nervous and my Mother was crying with joy.

“Well done, Nick.” My Mother said, still crying.

“Yeah, congrats.” Nikki added and I gave her a wink.

“Your turn Nikki.” I said as I put my exam results back in it’s envelope. Nikki’s hands was shaking slightly, she was so nervous. She opened the envelope clumsily, ripping the envelope opening. She pulled out the paper, her hands shaking violently now, then she looked at for a moment then started to read the results out:

“English: Grade B. Maths: Grade C. Science: Grade B. Art: Grade A. History: Grade C. English Literature: Grade B. ICT: Grade C. Geography; Grade C.”

After she had read these out and had received congratulations from myself and my Mother, her hands began to slowly stop shaking. My Mother got up and left the room, and I went over to Nikki. She got up too, and we hugged. Now we must go over what our next step would be.