Penult by A. Sparrow Page A

room reserved
for grieving friends and family. Pictures of baby animals, sunsets
and nature scenes dominated the décor.
    Sturgie’s college mates came by in
dribs and drabs, many of them sloshed, some teary, some simply
disbelieving. I had just gotten off the phone with Renfrew. The old
man was crushed. He wanted to drive up that night, but Helen
convinced him to stay put. Sturgie’s dad Wilbert, Renfrew’s
estranged brother, would be coming up in the morning to handle the
transport arrangements.
    Sturgie’s body was to be shipped to
Cardiff where he had grown up. His body would be laid to rest in
his home town.
    “ Never should have called
Sturg,” I said. “We should have just shown up and surprised
him.”
    “ James. Stop. These things
happen. No matter what we had done, maybe it was meant to be. Maybe
something worse would have happened.”
    “ Something worse? What’s
worse than getting hit by a truck?”
    A braided metal cable had been found
on the road, its broken end still attached to a lamp post. Sturgie
had been clotheslined, and as he and his bike skidded across the
blacktop, a lorry had run him over.
    I couldn’t rid my head of the image of
him lying broken in the road. And my mine kept returning to that
oddly tangible dream and the man with the coil.
    “ Let’s get out of here,” I
said.
    We wandered for a time in the
incessant drizzle, hoping to find a place to stay, but there was no
lodging in the area. Karla wanted to go back to the hospital but I
couldn’t stand being there.
    We retreated to a bus shelter that
smelt like a urinal and sat on a hard, cold bench. Our eyes were
closed, but neither of us could sleep. I held her and rocked her in
my arms, watching sheets of mist dance under the streetlights,
concentrating on the rhythm of her breathing, trying not to think
bad thoughts.
    “ The roots are close,” said
Karla. “Do you feel them?”
    “ No,” I said, and I knew
that it was Karla’s presence that kept the embers glowing in my
heart and kept them at bay like a bonfire against wolves. I was
afraid to tell her, though. I know how badly she wanted me to
cross. And yes, we might cross together, but that was never
guaranteed. I wanted to hold her in the here and now, and even if
she crossed alone, I would still be here to hold her.
    “ I want to go, but they
won’t come. Something is keeping them away.”
    “ Yeah, well. They’ll come
for us when they’re good and ready. I guess.”
    “ So what do we do
now?”
    “ I don’t know. Go back down
to Wales, I guess. Attend the funeral.”
    She pulled away from me and looked me
in the eye. “But we came all the way here. We should still look for
Izzie. Yes?”
    “ Yeah. We should. But it
would be nice to get some rest. How about we find a hotel? Get a
few hours sleep. In the morning we can go looking. We have a couple
days before the funeral.”
    “ Okay.” She relaxed and
snuggled back.
    “ Maybe you can try to in
touch with that friend of hers again. What’s her name?”
    “ Gwen.”
    “ And I’ll go … I’ll go
snooping around the church.”
    She squeezed my arm and looked up at
me. “Are you … okay with that?”
    “ Don’t worry, I’ll be
careful. I won’t go inside, that’s for sure. But I can hang out
nearby. See who comes and goes. They all go to mass every day,
right?”
    “ Sometimes twice a day,”
she said. “Some days morning, noon and night.”
    “ So that’s the plan. I’ll
watch and see if I can spot her. Meanwhile, you try and find Gwen,
and see if she knows anything.”
    We left the shelter and walked towards
the city center. It didn’t matter to Karla but I was hoping to find
a bigger, nicer hotel. I needed a good night’s sleep. I didn’t want
to stay in some flea bag, tourist place. I really was getting
spoiled. A year ago I would have been happy to find a dry corner in
some shed.
    We found a place off High Street
called the Heathmount, checked in and collapsed on the bed without
taking