"Crystal?" What an awkward position to sleep in. I smile and push her shoulder back.

Her head lolls and my heart stops beating.

"Crystal?" I whisper, my hands shaking frantically as I push her silver hair from her wrinkled forehead. She doesn't stir. She doesn't move. My hand flies to my mouth and tears blur my vision. "Crystal, no... no." No... No... Not now. "Crystal, please..." I drop to my knees before her and shake her shoulder once more.

She's so still, so calm. Her lips are parted but no air pa.s.ses through them and her eyelids, which usually flutter when she naps, remain closed and still.

I let out a sob and scramble to find my phone in my pocket. I don't know what to do.

Tears burn trails down my cold cheeks and my thumb slips over my screen, struggling to press the appropriate numbers.

"I... need an ambulance."

Isaac I sit with my head against the steering wheel, feeling extremely moronic. I should go back and apologise again. How stupid of me. I humiliated the poor girl.

Going back will only make it worse.

I'm jolted from my thoughts when the sound of sirens pierces the silence and an ambulance blurs past me with a police car on its tail.

A feeling of dread overcomes me and I just know... I don't know how, but I feel it. I know where it's going. I watch it in the rear-view mirror and pray that it doesn't turn left. If it turns left... I dread to think.

My heart melts when it makes the turn I prayed it wouldn't.

I pull out of my parking s.p.a.ce and spin the car around. I've never chased an ambulance before, but this feeling I have inside... I just know something isn't right.

It's not my business; I should just go home.

Instead I find myself pulling up outside the same cafe I left not long ago, directly in front of the ambulance and police car.

I wait for a moment, just to see what's going on as people leave their homes and stores and begin to gather around on the other side of the road. Many of them hold their hands to their lips, clearly as scared as I feel inside.

It's not until a body is brought out on a stretcher minutes later, covered by blankets from head to toe, that I finally climb from the car and push past the paramedics and police officers. I ignore their orders and search for the poor girl. It's wrong, I know it is, but I'm praying it's not her under those blankets.

My entire body perspires with panic as I burst into the back room, desperate to see her fiery red hair and blazing eyes.

When I do, the relief that floods me is unbearable and before I can stop myself, I'm gathering the sobbing girl in my arms and holding her close.

I press my lips to her hair and whisper soft words to her as she clings to me, as if I'm her anchor.

"She's dead... she just... died..." She hiccups into my chest, her entire body shaking. "I... we... I made coffee but..." Her fingers twist in my shirt as she holds me tighter still. Her entire body sinks into mine as if she wants me to absorb her, to shelter her from the pain and shock. I don't know what to do or what to say, so I only hold her and hope it helps in some small way.

"I'm so sorry, Elle," I say hopelessly. I feel useless. I feel so f.u.c.king useless. "I am so sorry."

She sobs again and nuzzles her forehead into my neck. I don't let her go. I know it's not appropriate, but at this point I don't give a f.u.c.k.

"I'm taking her home," I say to the officer by the door.

"No need, I'm here." It's a man I recognise as the one in the group of parents I scared, the one who screamed and stumbled into the other man. He looks at me curiously and I can see he wants to ask who the h.e.l.l I am, but he doesn't. Instead he pulls a reluctant Eloise away from me and guides her from the cafe, with his arm around her shoulders. "Thank you..." He says to me over his shoulder, before leading her to his car.

I follow them onto the sidewalk, my heart breaking with every sob I hear leave that poor girl's mouth.

I don't hang around; there's no point. The police can handle it from here.

I can't believe Crystal is dead. She's been a solid member in this town since way before I was born. That woman was alive during the Second World War.

This is a tragedy that is going to affect everyone. It tears at my heart.

There's a strange quiet through the school come Monday when everyone returns. Everybody, as expected, seems to be shocked by the death of such a beloved member of the community.

Eloise doesn't show up for cla.s.s and I'm not surprised. The poor girl needs time to mourn and grieve.

Hayley, the forever happy go lucky girl, looks depressed. She stares blankly at her paper throughout the entire lesson, only moving when the bell rings.

I pull her to the side as the cla.s.s filters out through the door, as silent as they were when they came in. "How is she?" I ask again, not caring if she finds it inappropriate.

"She's..." She lets out a breath and shakes her head. "She's not good. She's heartbroken."

I nod because I don't know what to say. "Will you..." Will she what? Send her my love? My condolences?

"I'll tell her you asked after her," Hayley mutters, shifting her bag up her shoulder.

"Is she coping?"

"She's coping better than most, considering..." She shifts on the spot and looks up at me with teary eyes. "She wanted to come in today, but her parents wouldn't let her. They said she needs time to heal."

I frown. That doesn't sound like something Eloise needs. "She's tenacious and determined. I doubt sitting around an empty house will help her heal."

Hayley blinks in surprise. "That's exactly what I said. Her parents don't know her as well as they'd like to."

"Whose parents do?"

Her lips tilt up in a smile. "Yeah... at least somebody gets it. Thanks, Mr Price. I'll pa.s.s your condolences on."

"Please do, and my mother's and father's."

She smiles a sad smile again and leaves the room, dragging her feet as she goes.

Eloise I look at my room, which I've moved around for the third time since this morning. It doesn't seem right, no matter the layout.

My mum comes and goes, bringing me drink after drink that never get drunk, yet she still comes up half an hour later with a fresh one and takes my old one away. I know she's trying to help, but keeping me cooped up isn't helping. Not at all.

My dad came and lay with me last night; it was nice. He hasn't done that since I was small and I appreciated it until he fell asleep and kicked me out of my own bed.

I know they mean well and that's the only thing stopping me from screaming at them both to leave me alone.

I need to get out. I need to go for a walk. I don't need to be left to grieve with nothing but my thoughts. I need to go to Crystal's and fire up the ancient coffee machine. I need to... I need to breathe.

My eyes sting as they try to produce tears, but it's impossible. I've cried so much I'm not sure I can anymore.

It's all such a blur. I can barely recall the night in question, yet at the same time flashbacks haunt my thoughts and dreams. My mind can't piece it all together, so it bombards me with images and feelings.

I shake myself off and rub my swollen eyes. I need to get out of this house.

Sitting at the top of the stairs, I listen to my parents talk about Crystal's funeral, which is on Sat.u.r.day. Her family have come home and arranged everything. Even though they didn't visit often, they loved the old woman and knew her well, so I imagine her funeral is going to be exactly as she wanted it. At least I hope it is.

"Elle?" My mum calls up the stairs, startled when she sees me sat on the top step. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Are you hungry?"

"Not really."

"Will you please try to eat something?"

I relent and stand slowly before descending the stairs. "What are we having?"

"I made lamb chops and minted potatoes."

My stomach rumbles in protest, not relishing the thought of being filled with something so heavy. I don't tell her this though. Instead I follow her into the kitchen, happy for a job to do.

Chapter Sixteen.

Isaac I'm shocked at how many people have turned up to Crystal's funeral. There are so many people the church couldn't fit them all in, so close friends and family are brought to the front as the rest of us stand at the back and some even outside.

The ceremony is beautiful, but I don't pay much attention. I'm here to support my mum, Dad and students. I don't do well in situations like this. I never know what to say or do. All I can do is offer my silent support and hope it's enough.

Like a movie cliche, the sky cries large tears as the coffin is lowered into the ground. Many people speak their eulogies, all of them with different stories of the old lady they all loved dearly, but it's Eloise's I hold out for and pay attention to.

Hers is beautiful, well written and from the heart. Her tears are of joy and mixed with sad laughter as she shares tales of the woman who was closer than a grandmother to her. I watch her beautiful eyes close whenever she breathes at the end of a sentence and I know she's picturing the old lady in her mind.

Everybody throws dirt and roses onto the coffin when it sinks to the bottom, but Eloise throws coffee beans and places a bottle of Baileys onto the closed lid. It makes people smile. No matter how sad the occasion, they know Crystal would definitely appreciate the parting gift.

It surprises me that only a young girl would have been so brave as to add those to the burial.

I take my side beside my mum and dad. My mum weeps silently as Eloise says her final words and looks for her friends in the crowds. My mum holds out her hand to her and she doesn't hesitate to move in between us.

I lean towards her, sheltering her with my umbrella as Crystal's daughter says her piece and drops a few pictures onto the casket.

I'm not sure why Eloise decided to stand with my family. I can see her parents looking over this way with confused looks on their faces before her father's eyes come to me and narrow. He's curious, but I've done nothing wrong so I won't feel threatened by his looks of accusation.

My father hands Eloise a handkerchief and she takes it with a small smile, using it to stop the tears under her eyes before they can travel down her rosy cheeks.

The crowd gets tighter as the vicar speaks the final words and Eloise places the handkerchief into the pocket of her black tunic dress. I feel her fingers b.u.mp my leg when I move closer still, trying to avoid being pressed against from behind.

I hear her breath come out in a staggered gasp. I know she's trying not to cry and the need to comfort her fills me.

I'm not sure what comes over me, or why I do what I do. All I know is that when I b.u.mp my pinkie finger with hers, there's no other choice. She turns her hand discreetly, the backs of her fingers caressing the backs of mine.

Such a simple move creates such a dark feeling within and my heart pounds in my throat as I make the only move I can think of making. I slide my fingers across the palm of her hand, looking at her profile through the corner of my eye. I see her eyes flutter closed and barely fight the urge to allow my own eyes to do the same.

I run my fingers along the gaps of hers until she parts them and, when she does, it's all her. She slides them closed, clasping the back of my hand with her fingertips. My body throbs and heats and suddenly the sad moment we're part of flutters away when our palms clasp together and our hands are locked in a tight embrace.

n.o.body around the open grave can see because of the people sat in front of us and everybody behind us are too close to tell.

For some reason I don't even care if they do see. In this moment, at this time, I don't feel fear of judgement. The only thing I feel is her body, her hand, her pulse thrumming with my own. I don't know why I feel this way and I don't look into it either, because the only fear I do have is that I'll have to make it stop.

I don't ever want it to stop.

Ever.

Eloise I sit in silence with Hayley at the wake. It's being held in the cafe and everybody is drinking Irish coffee made by myself and the rest of the staff. I don't know how to feel about being back here, in the place she died. The place I found her dead.

I think the only solace that this place now brings is the memory that in her last few moments, I was with her. She wasn't alone. She may have been alone when she drifted into a world I'll see myself one day, but she wasn't alone before she drifted and I was the one with her.

Everybody is a lot happier. I don't blame them for it. I want them to smile during her final goodbye. I just don't have the energy right now.

I keep my eyes on my cup, listening to the loud chatter and occasional laughter. n.o.body tries to talk to me. I don't think they know how. I'm not sure how to deal with this. I've never lost anybody close to me before and I don't know how to handle the feelings that it brings.

I can't stop repeating these words in my mind: 'I'm never going to see her again.' They keep spinning around and around and no matter what I do to distract myself, it doesn't take away the pain or the reality of it.

We weren't related, but I saw her four days a week. She cared for me. I've known her my whole life.

I feel eyes burning into me from the corner of the room. I raise my own to find the source of the stare and falter when I realise its Isaac. He's looking at me with no small amount of concern and something I don't quite understand.

I look away. I don't have the energy to figure out what it is that seems to be pa.s.sing between the two of us. I'm sick of him trying to save me, holding my hand, looking after me because he thought I was pregnant... it's too much. He's messing with my head in ways I don't need and frankly I think he should know better.

He's my teacher and nothing more.

"I'm going home," I say to Hayley and my parents. "I just need this day to be over."

"I'll drive you." Mum stands, but I shake my head.

"Alone. I need to walk."

"Babe." She takes my hand, but I pull free and, after saying goodbye to Crystal's family, I exit the cafe, ignoring the cold against my bare arms and thinly covered legs.

The fresh air is great and the alone time is even better.