How Did We Get This Far? (Dan and Phil Fanfiction)

Chapter 25

15 YEARS LATER

Lorna's POV

I swallowed and looked in the mirror. Hair up. No make up. Black dress.

I bit my lip and sat at the top of the stairs. It had become a bit of a tradition: on the 26th April, I sat at the top of the staircase and listened to my father. He was a strong man. He never cried. Not even one tear. But when it came to this day, every year, he fell apart.

I listened to his sobs and could almost feel him pulling at his hair in grief. I knew it was my fault that my mum is dead. I knew that at first she didn't want me. Uncle Phil told me the whole story.

I found that day hard. Not because I lost my mum. But because I could never find it in me to cry. I never knew her. I had never had a mum. That in itself should have made me cry, but it didn't. Dad said, it's because I inherited her strength. I didn't think that was true. I had never had one, so why should not having one make me upset?

That was the first year I felt like I could truly support dad. I felt old enough. I felt like I could say all the right things.

I tiptoed down the steps and into his bedroom. He had his head in his hands. I knelt down in front of him and pulled them away from his face. His head still hung as if they were there. "I'm sorry, Lorna, I'm fine, don't worry."

"Dad, she loved you, you know that. She still loves you. Your loyalty to her is exceptional. Why don't you tell me about her? You love talking about her." He smiled at me gratefully and took my hand. We walked out the house and down towards the graveyard, quicker than usual. 

"Elizabeth, Lizzie, Liz, Eliza, I called her so many things. 'Doolittle' was the one that brought us together, however, it was probably the nickname she hated the most. I can't even tell you how much I loved her. Even on that first day. I saw her sat on a rock at your uncle Phil's wedding, and I thought about how beautiful she looked." He scoffed and raised his hand to his mouth and another tear rolled down his cheek as we approached the graveyard.

"One step in front of the other." I said, squeezing his hand.

"Then at the party for Phil's wedding, your mother and I snuck off to a huge swimming pool. I tried to convince her strip off and swim with me. But she wasn't having any of it. I'm pretty sure she hated me at that point! Anyway, she fell asleep while we were there, and I carried her back to her hotel in the rain. I tried to convince myself that she wasn't my type, but, deep down, I loved her as soon as I saw her." I smiled at his story. We opened the old, creaky gate to the graveyard.

Now came the hard bit.

The hard bit for both of us.

Dad sat down in front of the gravestone. He kissed it. He closed his eyes and whispered: "Oi, Doolittle, it's me. It's... it's Dan." The first sentence he always said so confidently. "I miss you. I love you, Lizzie." I know for a fact that he only called her Lizzie in the most serious conversations. "Lorna is wonderful. She looks so much like you, Liz. I don't know how I'm coping without you. There's this piece missing from the jigsaw that is me. I wish you could come back. I'm sorry for pressuring you into kids. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'm sorry." He scrunched up his face. Then came the really really hard part. "No." he breathed as if he'd just been told that she'd gone. He cried out in pain.

I looked up at the sky - at the clouds, standing awkwardly behind him. I wanted to help him. But I knew the only way in doing that was to bring her back, and that was out of my power.

"Hey Dan, Lorna." Phil said, sadly. Clara stood back at the gate with Jeffery and George, their 16 and 18 year old sons. The whole family was dressed in black, but only Phil came up to the grave.

He lifted Dan up and hugged him. That was always Phil's way of saying goodbye to her. I guess it was a way of showing Eliza- I mean, mum, that he was caring for Dad. That he was looking after him. Keeping him going.

That was always the cue for Dad to go home. He always came back later in the day, and the year before, he stayed out until midnight just sitting at her grave. The Lester family and Dad started to walk back to our house, leaving me and the grave alone.

I watched them walk away before I looked at the grave. Dad was breaking everything, worth breaking, in frustration, as he disappeared, out of sight.

I sat cross legged in front of the grave stone and started making a daisy chain. I whispered, not really taking in anything or anyone around me. 

"Hey Mum. It's Lorna. I'm 15 today. I'm sorry for existing. I wish you had stuck your ground and not had me. You and dad could be happy now. He's just this empty case that walks around as if he's happy all the time, but then cries himself to sleep every night. He hasn't found anyone else. He doesn't want to be with anyone else. However lovely and understanding they are. He only wants you. I wish you were here. I wish I had known you. I wish I could ask for your help. I met a boy. Ashton. He's super cute and nice." I didn't know what I was saying anymore. I was concentrating too hard on the daisy chain. "Anyway, I wish I could have met you. I wish I wasn't the reason you're gone. But I can wish all I want, it's not going to happen, right?" I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up. It was only when I moved that I realised I had started crying.

Ash was kneeling next to me. His blond hair in a neat quiff. He wiped away my tears and took my daisy chain and weaved it around my ponytail. "It wasn't your fault." He whispered. He rubbed his hand up and down my arm supportingly, and then he kissed me on the lips.

As we pulled apart, he wiped away my tears with his thumb and chuckled: "So? You think I'm cute, do you?" I giggled, embarrassed. "Happy Birthday, Lorna." He gave me a beautiful silver, daisy anklet.

"Ash..." Was all I could manage, before I fell into him, and cried 15 years worth of tears.