Rubric's Cube

Chapter 2 Recovery of sorts

I shut that idea away and tidied the house, and with gritted teeth made our bed, realising and grieving that I need not put her night shift under her pillow. I buried my face in its delicate silkiness. She was still there. I put her in the laundry basket.

Kinder that, than crushed to smithereens in a burning Porsche.

I needed a shower and change of clothes. I had stripped and was in a dressing gown when the front door bell rang.

"Who's this at 7.30," I thought.

On opening the door Marjory, or Madge as she preferred, from next door, met my gaze.

"Come in Madge."

I sat us down in the kitchen with teas.

"I didn't think you'd be in bed, but I felt I'd wait till the police had gone. Don't trust them y'see. You ain't in trouble Jace dear?"

In that short sentence she revealed her Burnley childhood and accent, her mistrust of authority whether it be government or police, and her affection, more for me as Ellie's husband than for myself. Very early on when we had moved here, Madge came to love Ellie as the daughter she had never had.

Her three husbands, now passed away or left in countries across the globe had given her money, sons, and grandchildren, but not a daughter.

"Madge," I said, taking her hand,"be brave - Ellie's been killed in a motorway crash."

"Oh no, no, not Ellie. My lovely Ellie. And yours too."

She rose and gave me a hug. Madge's was a mother's hug. She was a short foursquare woman, muscles formed from early manual labour and childbearing, but practised at comforting children of any age, including me. We hugged in our grief, and our tears were shed. We resumed seats.

"Oh God what a shit deal Jace. She's so young and beautiful."

"Not anymore, according to the police. They're picking the pieces out of a burnt out wreck now. Look Madge, thanks for visiting, and come anytime, but what prompted you to come this morning?"

"Oh yeh. I've 'ad a text from Ellie. On my phone."

"You what? When?"

"I dn' know. 'Ere."

She passed me her 1G phone.

I tapped to the messages, and disentangled the text speak .

"Madge. Please go to Jason tomorrow morning. I know I've upset him. He'll probably have a hangover. Please make sure he's alright. Tell him I love him. Love Ellie."

The message was timed at 6.15 pm on Tuesday.

'God,' I thought, 'that can't be long before the crash. Where did she stop to send the text?'

"Can I put this on my phone?"

"I dunno how," said Madge.

I forwarded the message to my 'phone which obediently peeped 45 seconds later in the sitting room.

"That's done."

"What're you goin' to do Jace?"

"I think it's best to see my brother. He maybe can straighten out my mind and Cornwall will help too."

"It's a long drive - and can you trust that big flashy car?"

"No, I'll take the buzz box. The Ferrari will have to be sold, and this house, I can't afford to run them on my salary alone. I'm afraid you'll have some new neighbours before long."

"Doesn't matter. I'll miss Ellie."

"So will I Madge, so will I."

"I'll get out your way Jace. So you can get sorted for Cornwall. Give us a knock when you're leaving."