CHAPTER 76
I walked up to the side door again, letting myself in and going directly to the vestry, where Ruth, naturally, had the kettle on ready. She already knew my habits, and I had a sudden warm memory of Wilf’s. Time for a brew?

The doctor had been as gentle as she could be, but her message couldn’t be mistaken.

“So what’s plan, then, Doctor?”

She rubbed her eyes. “We have a hospice, my friend. They are… Making people comfortable is what they do. There is also a wonderful organisation called Macmillan who offer specialist nurses and help with respite care”

“Beg pardon?”

“Gerald, you will soon start getting very ill. From what you tell me, you have a very supportive family and…”

“There’s just me, Doctor”

“Oh, Gerald, and that young lady, and her mother, and her young man, they aren’t family? Bloody men! Sorry. Gerald, respite care means that Macmillan offer your own carers, your own FAMILY, a break every now and then. This process is never easy for anyone involved”

I left before she could break, taking with me some contact leaflets for a hospice and Macmillan, resolving to make sure they were kept out of sight. I wasn’t really sure where I was going, but of course I ended up at the cemetery, where the sun was warm on the bench that Darren had surprised me with a couple of days before.

A brass plaque was attached to it, giving thanks to Bob and the Barker family, and I sat for twenty minutes or so, silent but telling all to the three of them as they lay under the little pots of flowers Val and Susie looked after.

Game over for now, Ginge. Come in number 14, your time is up. Still enough of it to see a lad and a lass wed and happy, though. I settled my cap and continued to Tadcaster and Ruth.

We had been praying together on a regular basis now, and to be honest it was helping me to see things as they really were. Dad had always talked of spilt milk, and Mam was of the same mind. No crying over milk, nor over what can’t be helped. Just get on and make the best of it.

“The Doctor is sure, Gerald?”

“Aye, Ruth. Never been a tomcat, just got the one, and, well, it’s done”

“And what do you think of it?”

“What, cancer?”

“No, love, your life. Do you feel you did it justice?”

I went to say something, and she held up both hands.

“I watched the telly show you were on, love. I listened to that young man, what he said. My Dad married his parents, by the way, so I know the family. You made a huge difference there, Gerald, just like you did back in the forties. And you’ve not had a bad run, really, before you head on upstairs”

I raised an eyebrow, and she smiled.

“The test of a good life, love, is that you leave the world a better place than you found it. Believe me when I say that is a test you passed with flying colours. Shall we pray?”

I left her place almost singing because she had switched topics so quickly after our devotions.

“Here, grab the phone”

“Eh?”

“You may be a good man, Gerald Barker, but you’ve never been brightest in your conversation! Val and Susie have been busy, and you have four weeks on Saturday. Pete’s organised cars for you, Val’s sorted dresses out, just rehearsals to go”

“When did this all happen?”

She laughed. “Men never see what is under their noses! Anyway, you’ve been a bit preoccupied, love. Andy’s got you an appointment at MossBros next week. Morning suit, aye?”

“Nobody spoke to me?”

Her smile softened again. “Valerie knows all, doesn’t she?”

“Aye”

“Well, talk to her. She said to me that if there had to be a deadline, it would be one you would be able to meet. She’s a very determined woman, is Valerie Lockwood”

I laughed out loud at that. “So why phone?”

“Guests. Andy and Susie have sorted theirs, and the girl says she wants as many of your comrades and friends there as possible. You’ll laugh, but a lad from your boatyard has been speaking to the local lads in khaki, and we won’t be using the organ that day. Now, there’s a list of who she wants you to call. Don’t worry about call charges; as long as each one is less than an hour, I get them free”

It wasn’t just a list, for my girl had added little notes to some of them, and I was astonished at the breadth of the names she had listed, and the depth it showed in her character.

“Rodney? What are you up to four weeks come Saturday?”

“Matthew…”

“Joe?”

A surprise: “Tom? Gerald Barker”

“Oh, hello, mate! Great to hear from you! What did you think?”

“Er... I was right taken with young Ashley’s bit. Rest was good, too. Just, well, memories, aye?”

“I understand. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

“You know I have a sort of adopted daughter? Susie?”

“The one you took on your coach trip?”

“The very one. She gets wed four weeks on Saturday, in Tadcaster…”

“Mr Barker, you are a star!”

“Eh?”

“Would you mind a camera crew?”

“I were only ringing to ask on her behalf, like, if you wanted to come to wedding!”

“Oh, it’s ever thus. Look: human interest piece on local news, war hero sees daughter married. As long as she’s happy with that”

“I’m not a war hero, Tom”

“Oh for fuck’s fucking sake! Didn’t you watch the fucking show? Sorry. Shouldn’t. Yes, I’ll be there, and if the young lady agrees we will give her a better record than any poncey wedding video hack can do. Either way, I will be proud to be there, my friend”

“I’ll ask lass”

“Please!”

Deep breaths. Dial again.

“Laura Evans!”

“Oh, hello. I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Gerald Barker, from York way”

“Oh, of course I remember! Dad and Pete’s friend!”

‘Dad’? The old smoothie!

“Aye, the very same. What are you up to four weeks on Saturday?”

She laughed, and I had a flash of memory of a robot in a lecture theatre.

“Oh, Dad’s already passed that news. The young lady’s getting you to do all the ringing round?”

“Seems like!”

“Well, we’re already sorted. Cunning plan on my part, getting another man used to walking down an aisle in a suit”

“Oh? Pete’s, you know?”

“Not legless any more? Sorry, that’s his joke. Ollie’s done wonders—that’s his physio—and he’s not quite there yet, but, well, he’s walking as much as he can, so yes. Which side?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Bride or groom?”

“Oh, bride, I would say”

“We will see you there, then. Got a pen? I will give you our address for the RSVP”

I made another inarticulate noise, she muttered “Men!” before reading out where she lived, and I had a flash memory of Valerie saying “That’s a lad?”

The last number was an odd one, far longer than normal, and it rang for quite a while before a grumpy-voiced man answered.

“Yeah? Better be a bloody good reason waking a bloke up this time of night!”

My heart skipped a beat. How had she found the number?

“Bill…?

There was silence for about fifteen seconds, then he spoke again, far more gently.

“Sorry, mate, whoever you are, but Dad passed away last year, assuming that’s who you were after. Could I ask who you are?”

“Wilfie…?”

“Oh my God…Uncle Gerald? Really? Uncle bloody Gerald? Debs, Christ, get me some paper and pen!”

I looked across at Ruth as I realised exactly where the number was, and she just nodded sharply, clearly aware.

“Not a problem, love”

Wilfie was talking away from the phone, obviously to his wife or whatever she was, and then he was back.

“Uncle Gerald? Do you do Skype?”

“Skype? What’s that?”

Ruth called out “Hang on, love, and I will sort. Can I take the phone?”

She had a quick conversation I couldn’t follow, writing down what I recognised as some sort of computer address, then hung up and switched on her own machine. There was some delay as she did things on the keyboard, and then a picture formed. It was jerky, but clear, and there was sound, and a middle-aged couple in dressing gowns. Ruth stood, waving me to take her seat.

“Uncle Gerald? Really you?”

Ruth whispered, “Just talk normally” and so I did.

“Hello, son”

“Oh sweet Jesus. Debs, I told you about Dad, yeah? War and that? And my own father? This is the man who served with them. My Uncle Gerald. He used to take me out on boats in the river. Mate, Uncle… My memories back then, you know, it seems like it was always summer? Climbing trees, eating jam sandwiches? Mum was very fond of you, you know. Said you were always the safe pair of hands. Sorry. Shouldn’t bloody cry. Sorry, Debs. Uncle, there better be a bloody good reason for this call, and I don’t mean for disturbing me. I just mean I hope you rang because of something good, something happy”

“Er, aye. Got a… Got a daughter getting wed in four weeks from this Saturday, and she gave us a list of people to ring, so sorry I woke you, and all”

“Don’t be silly. Just that I have to be off to work in a while, and, well, getting on a bit. Need my beauty sleep, unlike my own blushing bride here. Look: this is Skype, lets us talk cheaply, not like a phone call. Your friend there—bloody vicar? Ah well. Sorry, Vicar! Get this lot noted and I’ll mail you from work, set up time for a proper chinwag. I want to know everything!”

I took it all down, and of course Ruth was there with tea and a hanky, and four weeks flew by, filled with suit-fittings that were suddenly abandoned as another and finer suit was delivered marked ‘Courtesy of the R.E.R. and R.T.R.’

That day came, a grinning Wilfie and his beautiful wife arriving three days beforehand, so much to discover, to share, to unearth from the vault I kept all my favourite memories in. Ruth was so right about living a life well, for we only received one, and there was no training. Everyone learns on the job and there are no second chances for the big mistakes.

I had watched as the guests assembled, young Pete so much taller than I remembered, his fiancée looking radiant beside him. Our Officers, all of them, were in uniform, along with Ernie, Joe, all the old and new comrades. The Royal East Ridings’ band made all the right noises for the day, while Val just sat weeping quietly to one side of the aisle. I could just make out Andy with Darren standing before Ruth.

That had been an interesting conversation.

“Surely one of your own friends, son?”

“They were never my friends, Gerald. What they tried to get me to do with my girl was just a piss-take, right nasty. That lad there, he’s been at her back since day she started with you. Nobody else comes up to that, ‘cept you, and you’re busy that day”

He started to laugh, and I gave him a look to ask what was funny.

“It’s the name, Gerald. Susie says having him there as best man finally kills off what she used to be called. Symmetrical, she says”

So, there we are. I straighten my uniform, settling the stable belt in three colours: mud, blood, green fields. My daughter takes my arm, beautiful in white, smiling up at me. I can hear the brass of the East Ridings’ band playing the wedding march and see their honour guard at the church door and, in my mind’s eye, the other people watching over, smiling as they do so. Maurice, our accountant who became an officer. Harry, smiling now, and Wilf, with that cheeky grin set in place.

Dear, sweet, loving Bob.

My darling, my love, my life, my Tricia, my other Susie, cradled in her arms.

I will be with you soon, my loves.