An Elderly Gentleman Struggled From His Bed and, Steadying Himself Against the Wall, Made His Way to the Next Room. In the Glow of the Night Lamp, He Squinted at His Slumbering Wife: “She’s Not Moving! Has She Passed Away?”—He Sank to His Knees. “Seems She’s Breathing.” He Stood and Slowly Shuffled Into the Kitchen. Drank Some Kefir, Visited the Loo, Then Headed to His Room. Lying Awake, He Thought: “Lena and I Are Both Ninety. What a Life We’ve Lived! Soon We’ll Be Gone, and There’s No One Left Nearby. Our Daughter Natasha Died Before Sixty. Maxim Died in Prison. There’s a Granddaughter, Oksana, But She’s Been in Germany for Over Twenty Years—She Never Remembers Us. She Probably Has Grown-Up Children of Her Own Now.” He Didn’t Notice When Sleep Overtook Him. He Awoke to a Gentle Touch: “Kostya, Are You Alive?” Came a Barely Audible Voice. He Opened His Eyes. His Wife Was Leaning Over Him. “Lena, What’s the Matter?” “I Saw You Lying So Still, I Was Frightened. Thought You’d Died.” “Still Alive! Go and Sleep!” Shuffling Steps Echoed. The Kitchen Light Flicked On. Elena Ivanovna Drank Some Water, Visited the Loo, and Headed to Her Room. She Lay Down, Thinking: “One Morning I’ll Wake to Find Him Gone. What Will I Do Then? Maybe I’ll Be the First to Go. Kostya’s Even Arranged Our Funerals Already—Who’d Have Thought You Could Organise Your Own? But It’s a Good Thing—Who’d Bury Us Otherwise? Our Granddaughter’s Forgotten Us Completely. Only Polina the Neighbour Pops In Anymore—She’s Got a Key. Granddad Gives Her Part of Our Pension. She Gets Our Shopping and Medicines. Where Else Do We Have to Spend Our Money? We Can’t Even Get Down from the Fourth Floor Alone Anymore.” Konstantin Leonidovich Opened His Eyes. The Sunlight Was Peeking Through the Window. He Stepped Out Onto the Balcony and Saw the Green Tip of the Bird Cherry Tree. He Smiled: “We’ve Lived to See Another Summer!” He Went to Check on His Wife, Who Sat Pensively on Her Bed. “Lena, No More Pouting! Come, I Want to Show You Something.” “Oh, I’ve No Strength Left!” She Struggled from the Bed. “What Are You Up To?” “Come Along Now!” He Supported Her to the Balcony. “Look, the Bird Cherry’s Green! And You Said We’d Never See Another Summer. But We Did!” “It Is—The Sun’s Out Too.” They Sat Together on the Balcony Bench. “Remember When I Invited You to the Cinema Back at School? The Bird Cherry Was Leafing Out That Day, Too.” “How Could I Forget? How Many Years Ago Was That?” “Over Seventy… Seventy-Five.” They Sat for a Long Time, Reminiscing About Their Youth—So Much Slips Away With Old Age, Even What Happened Yesterday, but Your Youth—That Sticks with You Forever. “We’ve Chattered Away! Haven’t Even Had Breakfast Yet.” “Lena, Make Us Some Proper Tea, Will You? I’m Tired of This Herbal Stuff.” “We Shouldn’t Really.” “Just a Weak Brew, and a Spoonful of Sugar Each.” Konstantin Leonidovich Sipped His Weak Tea, Nibbling Cheese on Toast, Remembering How Breakfasts Used to Mean Strong Sweet Tea with Pies or Pasties. Their Neighbour Dropped In and Smiled Fondly: “How Are the Pair of You?” “What Can Possibly Be New When You’re Ninety?”—Granddad Joked. “Well, If You’re Jokers, You Must Be Fine. Do You Need Anything From the Shops?” “Polina, Could You Get Us Some Meat, Please?” “You’re Not Supposed to Have That.” “Chicken’s Allowed.” “Alright, I’ll Make You Some Noodle Soup!” “Polina, Could You Get Something for My Heart?” the Old Lady Asked. “Elena Ivanovna, I Got You Something Not Long Ago.” “We’ve Run Out Already.” “Maybe I Should Call the Doctor?” “No Need.” Polina Tidied the Table, Did the Washing Up, and Left. “Lena, Let’s Go Back Out on the Balcony—Soak Up Some Sun.” “Let’s Go! Can’t Bear Sitting Cooped Up.” Polina Returned, Bringing Their Porridge onto the Balcony Before Starting Soup for Lunch. “She’s a Good Woman,” He Said as She Went. “Where Would We Be Without Her?” “And You Only Give Her Ten Thousand a Month.” “Lena, We Left Her the Flat in Our Will and Had It Notarised.” “But She Doesn’t Know That.” They Sat on the Balcony Until Lunch. Lunch Was Chicken Soup—Tasty, with Finely Diced Meat and Mashed Potato. “I Always Made It Like This for Natasha and Maxim When They Were Little,” Elena Ivanovna Reminisced. “And Now, in Our Old Age, It’s Strangers Who Cook for Us,” Her Husband Sighed Heavily. “Seems That’s Our Lot, Kostya. We’ll Die and No One Will Even Shed a Tear.” “Enough, Lena—No More Gloom. Let’s Have a Nap!” “They Say ‘Old Folk Are Just Like Children.’ Here We Are—Pureed Soup, Afternoon Naps, Tea Time…” Konstantin Leonidovich Dozed Briefly, Then Woke Unsettled—Perhaps the Weather Changing. He Checked the Kitchen—Polina Had Thoughtfully Poured Two Glasses of Juice. He Took Both to His Wife’s Room. She Sat Gazing Out the Window. “Why So Sad, Lena?” He Smiled. “Here, Have Some Juice!” She Sipped: “You Can’t Sleep Either, Can You?” “It’s the Weather—Must Be My Blood Pressure.” “I Haven’t Felt Right All Morning,” She Shook Her Head Sadly. “I Don’t Think I’ve Long Left. Give Me a Proper Send-Off, Won’t You?” “Lena, Don’t Talk Nonsense—What Would I Do Without You?” “One of Us Always Goes First.” “Enough, Now—Let’s Go Onto the Balcony!” They Stayed There Until Evening. Polina Made Cheese Fritters, Which They Ate Before Watching TV—As Always, Soviet-Era Comedies and Cartoons, Since Modern Plots Were Hard to Follow. After One Cartoon, Elena Ivanovna Stood: “I’ll Go to Bed—I’m Tired.” “I’ll Join You, Then.” “Let Me Take a Good Look at You,” She Suddenly Asked. “Why?” “No Reason—Just Let Me.” They Looked at Each Other for a Long Time, Perhaps Remembering Their Youth, When Everything Lay Ahead. “Come, I’ll See You to Bed.” She Took Her Husband’s Arm, and They Walked Slowly Together. He Tucked Her In Gently and Left for His Own Room. His Heart Felt Heavy—Sleep Would Not Come. Maybe He Hadn’t Slept at All, but the Clock Showed 2am. He Went to His Wife’s Room. She Lay Staring at the Ceiling, Eyes Wide Open: “Lena!” He Took Her Hand—It Was Cold. “Lena, What’s Happened! Lena!” Suddenly He Himself Struggled for Air. He Barely Reached His Room, Laid Out Their Documents, and Returned to His Wife. He Looked Long at Her Face, Then Lay Down Beside Her and Closed His Eyes. He Saw His Lively, Beautiful Lena, as She Was Seventy-Five Years Ago, Walking Towards a Distant Light. He Ran To Catch Up, Took Her Hand… In the Morning, Polina Entered the Bedroom. They Lay Side By Side, the Same Serene Smile On Both Their Faces. When She Recovered Herself, Polina Called for an Ambulance. The Doctor Who Arrived Looked at Them, Then Shook His Head in Wonder: “Died Together. They Must Have Truly Loved Each Other.” They Were Taken Away. Polina Sank Powerless onto a Chair, Only Then Noticing the Burial Contract and… a Will in Her Name. She Dropped Her Head in Her Hands and Wept.

Author Emily TaylorReading 8 minViews 1

The old man struggled upright, his bones creaking like crumbling timber, and, clutching the wallpaper for support, shuffled into the next room. In the soft pool of the bedside lamp, his dim eyes settled on his wife lying utterly still:

Shes not moving! Has she gone? He sank to his knees in the half-light. No, still breathing.

He heaved himself up and drifted towards the kitchen. There he drank a glass of milk and stuck his head in the loo for a moment, then wandered back to his own room. Crawling into bed, he found no peace.

He murmured in his mind, Ninety years each for me and Alice. How long can a soul keep ticking? The end must be close, and theres nobody here. Our daughter, Margaret, didnt see sixty. Henry went in prison. Only granddaughter Lucy left, but shes been in Germany nearly twenty years. Probably has children who wouldnt know us from the postman.

He drifted off somewhere between memory, worry, and the strange hush of age.

A gentle touch yanked him from nowhere:

David, are you alive? A faint whisper.

Blinking awake, he saw his wife bent over him.

Alice, is it you?

I saw you were terribly still. Thought youd gone on without me.

Still here! Back to bed, go on.

He listened to her slippers drag feebly on the carpet. The kitchen light flicked on. Alice sipped a little water, visited the toilet, then tiptoed to her own room. She felt the mattress sigh beneath her:

One day Ill wake up and hell be gone. What will I do then? Or maybe Ill go first. Davids already arranged our funerals. Whod have thought you could sort your own burial out? Still, someone must. That granddaughterlost all thought of us. Only Pauline from downstairs pops in, holds a spare key. David gives her a hundred each month from the pension. She brings food, gets the medicines. What do we need money for now? And from the fourth floor, theres no way wed manage the stairs anymore.

The morning sun spilled in through a crack. David prised his eyes open and went to the balcony, where a plume of hawthorn spilled green over the railings. He smiled gently to himself, thinking, Weve made it to summer, after all.

He checked on Alice, who was sat on her bed staring out.

Cheer up, Alice! Lets nip out, I want to show you something.

Oh, no strength left. Alice eased herself upright, arms trembling. What have you got in mind now?

Come on, come on! He gently steered her to the chilly balcony.

See, the hawthorns green! You said we wouldnt see another summer. But here we are.

Oh, the suns shining as well. She glowed.

Side by side on the garden bench, sighing at the rare sky.

Remember the cinema in school days? That same old hawthorn was in leaf that day.

How could I forget? How many years have vanished?

Over seventy seventy-five now.

They sat there, wrapping themselves in the shawl of youth. So much melts away in old ageeven yesterday slithers through your fingersbut youth, that clings. Always.

Goodness, chatting away again! Alice blinked. We havent even had breakfast.

Alice, make some proper tea, please! Im missing the real stuff.

But the doctor said?

Just a mild brew, and do put a little sugar in.

David sipped the weak tea, firing up the old taste buds with a tiny cheese sandwich, wistfully recalling the breakfasts of old: strong, syrupy tea, pies, sausage rolls.

Pauline came in, smiled approval.

Morning, hows everything?

How dyou think for a couple of nineties? David cracked a grin.

If youre joking, youre well enough! Need anything?

Pauline, could you get some chicken, please? David asked.

You know red meats off limits.

Chickens fine.

All right, Ill whip up a noodle soup.

Pauline, something for my heart, will you? Alice added.

But Mrs. Turner, I just got some in last week

All gone now.

Want me to ring for the doctor?

No need.

Pauline tidied the table, washed up, slipped out.

Alice, lets have a bit more sun.

Why sweat indoors?

Later, Pauline showed up, arms full of groceries.

Cant resist the sunshine, can you?

Oh, its delightful, Pauline! Alice beamed.

Ill bring your porridge out here and start lunch, shall I?

Shes a treasure, David whispered as she left. Where would we be without her?

And you only pay her a hundred a month.

Weve left her the flat, signed at the solicitors.

She doesnt know that.

They hovered on the balcony until midday, when Pauline appeared with a steaming bowl of chicken soup, thick with soft meat and mashed potatoes.

I always made this for Margaret and Henry when they were little, Alice reminisced.

And now strangers cook for us, David sighed.

Oh, David, looks like thats our lot. When we go, no one will even cry for us.

No more of that, Alice! Lets go nap.

Ah, David, its true what they sayOld age is a second childhood. Puréed soup, nap time, afternoon tea.

David dozed briefly, restlessly, then rose. The air felt charged with storm. In the kitchen stood two glasses of juicePaulines touch. Carrying both, careful not to spill, he found Alice gazing at nothing.

Feeling down, Alice? He gave her a glass. Drink this.

She sipped. Cant sleep, can you?

The weathers playing tricks on my blood pressure.

Me too, all day uneasy, Alice shook her head heavily, I think my times running out, love. Promise youll send me off properly.

Nonsense, Alice. How would I manage alone?

One of us will go ahead.

Lets not dwell. Come on, balcony.

They lingered til dusk. Pauline made cheesecakes. They ate and sat down to watch telly. These days, new dramas tangled their minds; so they stuck to familiar comedies and cartoons.

Tonight, just one cartoon before Alice stood.

Im off to bedso tired.

Ill follow, then.

Waitlet me have a good look at you. Her eyes settled on his face, gentle but searching.

Why?

Just need to.

Long moments passed as they studied one anothers faces, tracing in the lines and creases every year that lay behind.

Ill see you to your bed. Alice looped her arm through his, and they crept down the hallway together.

David tucked her in, tenderly smoothing the blanket, then slipped off to his own restless domain.

His heart ached with an unnameable weight. Sleep would not come, and the digital clock told him it was nearly two. He went to her roomshe lay with eyes open, lost to the heavens.

Alice?

He took her hand; it was cold.

Alice, come on now A-li-ce!

All at once his own breath wouldnt come. Struggling, he prepared the paperwork by the kitchen, placed it neatly on the table, returned to her side. He watched his wifes face, lay close, and finally closed his eyes.

He saw her then, young and lovely, as bright as shed ever been. She moved away towards a golden light. He raced forward, caught her arm

In the morning, Pauline stepped softly into the bedroom. There they lay, side by side, the same gentle smile frozen on both faces.

For a long minute Pauline sat in silence, then called an ambulance.

The doctor arrived, examined them, then shook his head in wonder.

Gone together. They must have loved each other greatly.

They were taken away. Pauline slumped into a chair, eyes stinging. Spotting the funeral papers and the will, her name on it, she let her tears fall at last.