This is a work of fiction. It is a sequel to the other stories, beginning with "A Letter from America" that have appeared in adult/youth, young pals, and no sex. Not one single character is , or is based on, a real person. I have borrowed the names of places, and even of some buildings and institutions in those places, but their personnel remain fictitious. They do not represent real people. Not all characters were created by me. There are some that were created by another author -- Jacob Lion. I am grateful to Jacob for permission to use his characters. I hope you enjoy this story. I'm grateful to Nifty for publishing it. Nifty makes no charge, neither for me to publish, nor for you to read these stories, but it does cost money to publish them. If you enjoy the stories, please consider making a donation to Nifty at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html so that he can continue to bring these stories to you.
Howard Chapter 6
Ashfield MA 09/08/2020
Hallo Jonah
We are all sad to hear your news. Liam cried himself to sleep last night. I think Kori did too, but he didn't want me to see.
There are so many questions. How are Rob and Ben? What is going to happen to Joe and Miriam and, of course, Jacob? I expect it is too early to know when the funeral is going to be. Please let me know as soon as you find out. I'll have to take Kori and Liam out of school for a few days, but it will mean a lot to them. Of course, if your place is too crowded, we could book into an hotel. The circumstances are sad, but it will still be good to see our friends in England again, even if only briefly.
Be strong my friend.
Jake.
It was a day or two before we found that out. The service would be held, of course, at North Harrow Methodist Church, with a short commital afterwards at the West London Crematorium, on Wednesday 23rd September. I e-mailed Jake immediately.
Simon, in the meantime, had worked out that our mongrel pup was big enough to take a collar and, therefore, big enough to be walked. He and Luke took turns at walking him down to the bit of grassland near the Porters' house.
Howard had already demonstrated that he could get downstairs. He could get up as well now, though it took him a while.
Rob and Ben were back at Lulworth Drive now, though Ben still came for the occasional sleepover.
It was on the second Saturday after the accident that Joe came round to see me.
"Monica's sister is arriving today. She's staying till after the funeral. It looks like we'll be looking for new digs."
"Oh dear!" I said, "Monica wouldn't have wanted that, I'd offer to fit you in here, but I've got Jake, Kori and Liam arriving tomorrow."
"Well, it will be good to see them anyway. I'll have to think of something else."
"I'll ring June and see if she has any ideas," I told him. "Grab yourself a cup of tea. I won't be long."
"June Bennett."
"Hallo June, it's Jonah Cummings."
"Hallo Jonah. What can I do for you." There was no doubting that the warmth in her voice was genuine.
I explained Joe's predicament to her. She seemed surprised.
"I've got Mrs. Willis with me now Jonah. She hasn't mentioned any intention of evicting anybody. I don't even think she legally could. Do you want to speak with her?"
There was a pause while she went and fetched someone to the phone.
"Cecilly Willis," said a voice that could almost have been Monica's, saving that the Lancashire vowels were just a little bit more noticeable."
"Mrs. Willis, my names's Jonah Cummings, I was a friend of Monica. Can I say first how sorry I am about your loss."
"Mr. Cummings, I have to say, I'm sorry about yours. You all knew Monica so much better than I, but thank you. Rev. Bennett tells me the shockwave hit your household particularly hard."
"It hit the whole community, Mrs. Willis. Your sister was a person who lived life to the full, and made things better wherever she went. That's what I needed to speak to you about. One of the things she made better was to take in a homeless family. They were very happy staying with her, and she loved them too, especially their little boy."
"Yes, Rev. Bennett told me alot about the Davises, and I have to say, I'm looking forward to meeting them."
""Joe is afraid you'll want to sell the place and leave him homeless," I said.
"What.....?"
The shock and alarm almost made the telephone vibrate.
"But I would never...... Mr. Cummings, you must speak to him....."
"Mrs. Willis...."
"Mr. Cummings, firstly, I couldn't sell it. It isn't mine to sell - at least, not so far as I know. Muriel owned it outright and we won't know who owns it until after her will is read. I can't believe she wouldn't have made provision for the Davises and if she hasn't - I will. Now I wish, as soon as possible to speak with Mr. Davis, because I was hoping his family could, maybe, find me a room until after the funeral. I'll understand if it's inconvenient. I could just book into an hotel."
"I'm sure Joe wouldn't want you to do that, Mrs. Willis. He's downstairs. I'll fetch him, if you'd like to speak to him, that is."
"Yes, I'd like that, " she said. " Oh, and Mr. Cummings.......Thank you!"
Well that went well, and the upshot was that Cecilly (yes, we're on first name terms now) moved into her sister's old room. Was that scary for her? Not a bit of it, she had never been frightened by Monica, living. She was certainly not going to be frightened by her now that she was dead.
When the post came I found that I had another unexpected letter.
Riverside Cottage
Carrbridge
INVERNESS
Dear Jonah 15 September 2020
Simon tells me that you have all suffered a bereavement in tragic circumstances. Now while Janet and I did not know the lady, we understand how devastating that is.
Sadly, Janet and I are both too old and too frail to journey all the way down there for the funeral but be assured that we will be praying for you.
Incidentally, I don't know if you know or not, but Simon tells me that Peter knows how Maddie died. He formed the impression that he is OK with it. I don't know any more details than that, but I thought you would want to know.
God bless you all
Fergus.
That was a surprise, but I made a mental note that I needed to write to Fergus soon.
The following morning Cecilly insisted that she would stay in our flat to look after Howard while we went en masse to Heathrow to meet our American friends.
She was a smaller lady than Monica, and was one of those soft, helpless-looking old ladies, who always turn out to be anything but helpless. She put me in mind of Mrs. Wilberforce, in the Ealing comedy, "The Ladykillers". It was impossible not to like her, and the boys couldn't do enough for her.
At the airport we were in good time to meet Jake, and the two boys he had brought with him. Jake managed a smile as I shook his hand, but the boys didn't seem to be able to do that. It was as if he had left Kori and Liam in the States and brought their shadows with him. Simon even tried to give Kori a hug, but the boy didn't want it. Ah well, best get them home.
The taxi ride back to Harrow seemed to take three times as long as the tube journey down. It was not particularly busy, and the driver got us there as quickly as you'd expect, but the silence that pervaded the cab was virtually impenetrable. The American boys were only interested in their shoes, and my boys weren't much better.
It was only as we drew up outside our flat that I remembered that Cecilly was waiting for us. I decided that I had to do something about the boys.
"Boy's" I told them, "you're about to meet Monica's sister. I know you're all sad because you've lost a good friend, but Miss Willis has lost her sister, so she's got even more right to feel sad than you have. I know you feel bad, but at least try to look as if you're pleased to see her, and don't make her feel sadder than she already does."
Well that was clever. Now they all felt apprehensive about getting out of the taxi, and nobody wanted to be first up the stairs. I ended up leading the way and making introductions. That's when it changed. Bad as the American boys obviously felt, there was nothing wrong with their manners.
I invited Cecilly to stay and have some lunch with us, which she gratefully accepted. We were only having beefburgers, but the atmosphere was much lighter than it had been in the taxi. Cecilly knew lots of things she could talk with boys about - British or American - and, by the time the meal was over, she was on first name terms with them too.
Of course, we had to be careful not to make eye contact with the hound whilst eating - a requirement that the American boys failed to grasp, but a lot of beefburger seemed to find its way into his bowl. I heard no complaint from him.
With the departure of Cecilly the dress code seemed to relax. All five boys apparently became more cheerful as they discarded more clothing. Naturally I had to say "when" or they would have all been completely naked. Whatever. It was good to see them relaxed.
Jake shopped for dinner and returned with a goodly quantity of pork chops, baked beans and cooking apples. The old difficulty in gaining access to the kitchen re-asserted itself.
After dinner I got to the washing up bowl before anybody American could. Simon followed me. When Jake objected, I told him to go upstairs with the boys and supervise railway operations. That kept them all out of the way for most of the evening.
I was allowed to settle down with a good book and an even better single malt.
At bedtime I found my bed was to contain Jake, Liam, Luke and Howard. Peter joined us within the hour as he thought three was a crowd in the boys' room.
Although the Autumn was drawing on fast, I don't think any of us were cold.
TO BE CONTINUED