SOMEWHERE UP ABOVE...

Linda, though young. lost her fiancé when he died suddenly one night...

Somewhere in the Milky Way my lover waits for me…

Linda lay on her back and stared at the skies above her. It was a dark night, her cottage was in the country well clear of any bright lights that might pollute the darkness, and she was dreaming. Not proper night dreams because she wasn’t asleep and not day dreams because it wasn’t daylight. Just hopeful dreaming, the sort that comes to mend a damaged soul if it’s needed.

David was dead. They had come round to tell her, they being David’s parents, both of them just about past middle age and both with faces that had been stained by tears. But David had suddenly developed a heart condition (the surgeon had said he must have been born with a weakness) and he’d gone to sleep one night and not woken up.

His mother had said something about David being with the angels, and that had made her think. Not about angels, she wasn’t the superstitious sort, but she did have an imagination and had long thought that there must be something more than life in a flesh and blood body, and then it must go somewhere when that flesh and blood stops functioning properly.

It didn’t need a deity, did it? Not a great panoply of heavenly meadows and places with a god enthroned with angels singing sweet melodies around him or plucking ethereal instruments into his ears or whatever the various religions suggested might happen after life, but just an ethereal progression from one state of being to another.

David had been due to become her husband. They had planned it down to every detail before his untimely death three months ago. Since then she had locked herself away from the world, grateful that her work (which involved writing news and composing articles for a website) meant she could do everything from home without loss of earnings.

But other things, the day to day stuff involving eating and living, she stayed at home away from the eyes of strangers and got essentials delivered.

The delivery man from the supermarket had been one of David’s oldest friends. He was Julian, known as Jules, and his sympathy and understanding over the months when he called with packages had been one of the things that had kept her on an even keel. And in a way she had kept him from breaking down completely as well, because his memory of David went way back to their first day at infants’ school. Theirs had been a close and united friendship as evidenced from the fact they both supported the same football team!

She loved staring at the stars when the weather was right for it, no clouds and the air fairly warm. Then she told herself that somewhere, out there, her David was waiting for her.

He had to be didn’t he?

It was the only thing that made sense to her. A vast empty vacuum with David, no longer in need of air to breathe, sitting on a stool by a black wall, and waiting for her. It wouldn’t be his flesh, of course, but his spirit and in the shape of him. No heart, of course, that was a useless muscle and it had let him down, but a heart-shape where it had been, a shape made for love.

They had only made physical love twice, and both times he had felt an aching afterwards. Maybe he’d be alive now if he’d sought medical help, but he’d tossed it aside as proof of his love for her and swore that nothing was wrong.

A physically aching heart was never proof of anything but a sickly organ. Or so she thought now.

But she’d meet him again some day. She’d have to die first, though, but doesn’t everyone die eventually? She was still only young with a yawningly long life in front of her, boring as dull autumn days, and precious little to fill it other than her monotonous work and the unfounded criticism of her thatsome idiots posted if they bothered to read her stuff at all.

Damn! It must be midnight, and there was someone ringing her doorbell! And she in the middle of searching the milky way for David because if he was there he’d find a way of telling her. He had always been like that. Positive, thoughtful, the only man for her.

She dragged herself upright and made for the front door, going through the French window that David had installed for her because they hadn’t even planned to marry back then, he hadn’t proposed to her, just said he loved her.

And what had happened? She’d responded by saying she loved him too, and it had been she who’d come out with it…

“Shall we get married, love?”

And he had smiled at her, and nodded.

“Of course,” he’d said, nodding his head in that special way he had.

That had been a good year ago.

The doorbell rang again, impatiently. Who could it be at this time of night? What’s the time now? Midnight, or thereabouts. She should be in bed but she needed to search the milky ways for a sign of her love.

She stood up and brushed down her pretty blue cotton frock with one hand to shift any signs that she might have been lying on the grass, and went to answer the door.

“You took your time!” he said.

She blinked several times, and murmured “is it? It can’t be… it’s late.”

“I was alone and thinking,” said Jules, “and remembering some of the things David and I got up to, when we were kids and up to when he met you. We were cheeky little monkeys, you know! If only he’d known he was going to die so young… but I needed to see you and tell you something…”

Linda couldn’t help it, she felt annoyed. And how did he know that she wasn’t already fast asleep in the lonely bed that she had once shared on and off with David?

“Do you know what time it is?” she asked, angrily, “and don’t you think I’ve got memories of my own to upset me without you coming out with more!”

“I needed to tell you,” he mumbled, probably shocked at her outburst, “what he said about you when he first met you…”

“Go on,” the invited him.

“What you must know is that we had decided, oh, when we were still kids, that no girl would come between us. We were two boys, and we loved each other. We even kissed once! I’d have been ten, and it felt both daft and nice at the same time. Then you came along and you did come between us. Suddenly David changed from being David Mark one to David Mark two, and I hated it.”

“Oh,” she said, shaken, “is that all? It’s late, you know.”

He looked awkward. “Not quite,” he said, “I wondered what you think of me? I mean, I come to your house maybe twice a week when I have to deliver here, and you seem okay about me bringing stuff into your kitchen. So what do you think of me?”

The question rocked her. What did she think of this young man? Her deceased lover’s best friend?

“I suppose you’re okay,” she mumbled.

“What I really mean,” he said, “could I ever replace David in your heart?

No! Of course you couldn’t, and if you think anyone ever could do that then you’re a moron, and it’s midnight!

He shook his head sadly, and was that a tear oozing out of the corner of one eye?

“You see,” he mumbled, “I loved David, probably as much as you did, and he loved me as much and, well, all I can see in my mind’s eye when I think of some of the things Dave and I got up to is an image of the woman I deliver to… the woman I love.”

What was he saying now? They’d hardly spoken above the few words that pass between a delivery van driver and the customer he’s delivering to, and when David was alive she’d seen them together once or twice, and that was it. And he says that he loves me? Does he know what love is, what it means?

He could tell she was flabbergasted, and suddenly he knew he’d made a mistake, virtually emptying his lost and lonely emotional soul on a woman he hardly knew.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t…” he stammered.

“It’s late,” she said, “so you’d better come in and tell me where all this has come from. I’m confused.”

He followed her in through the French window and into a comfortable sitting room.

“I would offer you coffee, but caffeine isn’t good for me when I need to get to sleep,” she said, “so tell me, do you fancy tea?”

He wanted to tell her he’s heard that tea was just as caffeinated as coffee, but decided against it.

“No thanks,” he said, “It was me and David, always friends. You heard he died in his sleep?”

She nodded. It had come as a shock to her. Once or twice he’d slept with her and she knew just how peacefully and quietly he slept. Hardly snoring, barely moving. It seemed most odd that at his young age he’d die in his sleep, but nature is a confusing thing and odd things happen all the time.

“He wasn’t alone,” Jules told her, “I was with him.”

She stared open-eyed at him. “You mean…?” she stammered, “you were there… when he his heart failed… what had you been doing?”

He tried to smile at her. “Nothing,” he said, “it got late and I stayed the night, and that was all. They don’t have a spare bed, so I shared his. That’s all. We’re not gay, you know, just lifelong friends, and I bloody miss him.”

“I can’t take this,” Linda said, tears in her eyes. “Look, Jules, you’d best go home… I just don’t know what to think.”

“I came to tell you the last thing David said on this Earth, just before he died. He said, and he was in pain, I could see something was wrong, he said how much he loved you, Linda, and if anything happened to him I was to take care of you. I think he knew he was dying.”

Somewhere in the Milky Way my lover waits for me… thought Linda, and “Oh,” she stammered, “it’s late. Do you want to stay the night? I do have a spare bed. We can talk in the morning.”

© Peter Rogerson, 15.05.23

...

Reviews

[AYVID N]

The ending of this story kind of unsettled me. But then I kind of accepted it. Man proposes and God disposes. Life cannot be planned and we get what we don't expect. Perhaps, Jules must take care of Linda now that David is gone. All's well that ends well.