This Is England » Freddie Highmore

94.

IT HAPPENED.

The next morning remained a blur at the start, but once I got out of the shower and was dressed for the day, I hear the door opening and closing moments later. Something didn't seem right. Freddie was downstairs, his face in his hands as he sits solemnly on the couch. Bertie is frantically making tea, and all the while I'm confused as to what's going on as I'd just woken up.

"What's going on, baby?" I ask as I make my way over to Freddie, rubbing circles on his back.

Freddie raises his head from his hands, looking at the front door; tears traveling down his face. He bites down on his lower lip, not saying a word. He wipes his nose with his shirt sleeve, then says the words I knew he had been dreading to say.

"My mum," he said, his voice hoarse. "she's dead."

It felt as if the world stopped the minute he'd said that. His mother, his sweet, sweet, mother, was dead. Although I had only known her for such a short amount of time, I knew she was a wonderful woman, and I also knew that she entrusted me with Freddie's heart. I sat there stunned, unable to speak.

Bertie came in a few minutes later, hastily dropping off the cups of tea on the table for us to drink, and scones from the market. At first, I thought they were homemade, but by the way things were, there wasn't any time to do something like that. I knew why Bertie was in the kitchen. He was trying to distract himself from the initial shock that his mother was dead. I would too if this were my situation. 

Finally, after I was done processing Freddie's words, I simply wrapped my arms around him tightly; pulling him close to me.

"How did she die, if you don't mind me asking?" I ask.

Freddie sniffles, running a hand through his hair. "I don't exactly know," he replied. "I woke up and I hear Bertie screaming."

"She died in her sleep," Bertie replied, sniffling. "I feel guilty now because I didn't tell her goodnight last night. I..." His voice trailed off.

I stand up and hug Bertie too. "It's okay, Bertie," I say, even though I knew it wasn't. "Your mum loved you, and I'm sure she knew that of you too." I look at both of them. "When is the funeral?"

"In a week," Freddie replied. "Her body has to go through preparations and shit." He grimaced. "I can't believe she's gone."

"We'll get through this, babe." I reply. "you, me and our baby." I place his hand on my flat stomach, receiving butterflies in the process.

"I love you," Freddie replied. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," I reply. I hug him and as my arms are draped around him, I wonder if my boyfriend will be okay.

I pray he would end up being okay. For the sake of our child and relationship.

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