Daffodils in March by Clare Revell Read Free Book Online

his hand moved the phone to his ear as if on autopilot mode. “Hello.”
    “Hi, David, it’s Liam.” Liam Page’s Irish accent filled his ear. “I couldn’t sleep. Was lying here, looking at the moon, and I had this overwhelming feeling from God that I needed to call you. How are you doing?”
    “I’m not,” David managed. His stomach clenched and his voice broke. “Hanna’s dead.”
    There was a pause before Liam responded. “Oh, David, no. I’m so sorry. What happened? Are you and Marc all right?”
    “Hanna was on the plane that crashed in Manchester. She was going up there for work. I dropped her off at the airport this afty—yesterday afty,” he corrected. “She…”
    Something creaked in the background as if Liam had sat up. “Do you want me to come over?”
    “Thanks, mate, but I’m in Manchester at the moment. They’ve put the relatives up in a hotel for a couple of days. I’m…” David broke off. He needed help and perhaps Liam was right about God prompting him to call. “I have an open bottle of whiskey in front of me. I’ve even gone as far as to pouring a shot—actually it’s more of a double.”
    “Have you drunk any?” Liam’s tone changed ever so slightly.
    “No, but I want to. God knows how much I need a drink right now, which is probably why He kept you awake so you could phone me. I just want to make all the pain and grief that’s filling me go away.” He knew he could tell Liam that without being judged.
    After all, he’d met Liam at an AA meeting. Liam had become his mentor, the one person from church who knew the demons he fought on a daily basis on an equally personal level. A recovering alcoholic like him, Liam knew real grief, having witnessed his first wife murdered in front of him.
    “It won’t help, mate,” Liam told him gently. “Take that from one who knows. I dived back into the bottle when Sally was killed. It only makes things worse. How many days since you last had a drink?”
    David sucked in a deep breath, kneading the back of his neck with his other hand. “Ninety seven. Hanna wanted me to get to the hundred. She insisted it was a landmark number. She was planning a party to celebrate.”
    “Sounds like her.” Liam’s smile came across in his voice. “So we’ll do it. You and me.”
    “How can I celebrate anything when she’s gone?” David choked on the tears he didn’t want to let spill.
    “She’d want you to. We’ll do it in her memory.”
    “How do I go on without her?” he whispered. “I’m alone now.”
    “No, you’re not,” Liam told him. “I’m here. And God is right in that hotel room with you.” He began praying.
    Slowly peace began to creep into David’s soul. The grief still tore his heart to shreds, but Hanna was safe with Christ, and he’d see her again one day. All that mattered now was keeping her son safe. For that, he needed to be sober.
    As the call ended, he put the phone on the table by the bed. He stood and grabbed the bottle and glass. He strode to the sink, emptying them away. Tossing the bottle in the bin and set the glass in the sink, he filled it with hot water.
    Crossing back to the bed, David lay on his side, still fully dressed. He stared at the wall, that last image of Hanna running through the departure gate replayed over and over; she turned and waved at him, telling him she loved him and she’d see him soon.
    He knew he would see her again. It would just be years rather than a few days.

4
    Monday morning, Eden sat next to David in the solicitor’s office. Marc slept in his car seat by David’s feet. She still couldn’t believe they were here. What was so urgent about the will that couldn’t wait? Hanna had been dead less than two full days, but the lawyer had been insistent that the will was read. Although why she was here, she couldn’t even begin to fathom. There was other stuff she could be doing—like washing and changing the sheets on Marc’s crib and damp dusting and washing the