Don't Give Up, Tom Drake

Don't Give Up, Tom Drake Part 9

Twenty Two

6th May

The drizzle that greeted Evie and Drake as they stepped out into the morning light progressed, and soon enough it was pouring down. To make matters worse, the wind had joined in, forcing the rain into their faces. The umbrella they were sharing, with its wooden handle and jet black cover was useless against such dominant foes, soon inverting and buckling under the pressure.

The walk to the cemetery took twenty minutes, but for Drake, his head throbbing and his stomach nauseous, it felt more like an hour. By the time Evie and Drake arrived at the entrance to the East London Cemetery, they were soaked to the skin. Drake, wearing a black suit from Maude's collection, was feeling uncomfortable and desperate to get out of the clothes. He wanted nothing but to sleep, though he said nothing to Evie. She was in a simple black strapped dress with the hem-line at the knee. Her hair was combed up into a bun that sat at the crown of her head. Her shoes were black with a white flower pattern on the four inch heels.

Staring up at the black gates, Evie reached out and took Drake by the hand. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. It was a smile tainted by the fear of death, by the fear of the reality that eventually all living things must die. Standing there, stoking up the courage to enter the cemetery, the lovers felt surrounded by this eventuality. Remaining calm and upbeat in the face of death was proving impossible. Drake decided not to fight it. 'I'm scared,' he said.

'So am I,' Evie replied, squeezing his hand tighter. 'Deep breath,' she continued, 'and don't let go.'

'Never,' he said, smiling again. They kissed.

'Never say goodbye,' she gulped.

'Promise,' he sighed, as they linked arms and strolled in through the gates.

There were no other mourners at the service, save for the Vicar and the four Undertakers. As Drake and Evie sat feeling cold and exposed within the chapel, they could see that the coffin, made of a sturdy cardboard, had already been placed upon the metal runs. These would allow it to pass through to the furnace room once the velvet red curtains were drawn.

Drake stared at the coffin with its rope handles. He listened to the Vicar, Timothy Hamilton, a squat grey haired man, giving the sermons, but he heard nothing. It was a short service. There were no walks along memory lane, no anecdotes. There was one hymn, In Christ Alone, chosen by Hamilton and, with the reverence with which he sang, it was obviously one of his favourites.

Drake felt Evie's cold hand holding his. She squeezed gently, waking him from his thoughts. 'It's over,' she said, and Drake saw that they were alone in the chapel.

Outside, the rain came down like it was trying to penetrate the ground. As Evie and Drake stepped outside, she asked him, 'Where were you during the service?'

Drake faced Evie and, wrapping both of his arms around her slender waist, he kissed her with a passion that neither knew they had. It was a kiss from someone who knew it may very well be their last. It was a kiss to remember. Once they had parted, their bodies drenched in heaven's tears, they stared at one another, intently. They looked into the eyes of love and savoured every moment. It was the dream before the nightmare. The understanding of things. That love, if truly powerful enough, can last forever.

'We take it for granted,' Drake shouted above the billion raindrops crashing into the ground. 'Life. Everything. We take it for granted. Only when you fear you're going to lose it, only then do you really see it.'

Evie nodded in absolute agreement. 'I've waited my entire life to find you, Drake,' she shouted back. 'I won't let you go. I promise.' They kissed again, desperate to hold that moment for all eternity. Yet, in their hearts, they knew that life only holds one certainty.