The Brilliant Life of Eudora Honeysett: A Novel
By Annie Lyons
4/5
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"One adorably British odd couple . . . Charming." — People
“An exquisitely poignant tale of life, friendship and facing death . . . heart-breaking yet ultimately uplifting . . Everyone should read this book.” — Ruth Hogan, author of Queenie Malone’s Paradise Hotel
Infused with the emotional power of Me Before You and the irresistible charm of Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine and Be Frank with Me, a moving and joyous novel about an elderly woman ready to embrace death and the little girl who reminds her what it means to live.
It's never too late to start living.
Eudora Honeysett is done with this noisy, moronic world—all of it. She has witnessed the indignities and suffering of old age and has lived a full life. At eighty-five, she isn’t going to leave things to chance. Her end will be on her terms. With one call to a clinic in Switzerland, a plan is set in motion.
Then she meets ten-year-old Rose Trewidney, a whirling, pint-sized rainbow of sparkling cheer. All Eudora wants is to be left alone to set her affairs in order. Instead, she finds herself embarking on a series of adventures with the irrepressible Rose and their affable neighbor, the recently widowed Stanley—afternoon tea, shopping sprees, trips to the beach, birthday celebrations, pizza parties.
While the trio of unlikely BFFs grow closer and anxiously await the arrival of Rose’s new baby sister, Eudora is reminded of her own childhood—of losing her father during World War II and the devastating impact it had on her entire family. In reflecting on her past, Eudora realizes she must come to terms with what lies ahead.
But now that her joy for life has been rekindled, how can she possibly say goodbye?
Annie Lyons
After a career in bookselling and publishing, Annie Lyons published numerous books in the U.K. and The Brilliant Life of Eudora Honeysett in the U.S. When not working on her novels, she teaches creative writing. She lives in south-east London with her husband and two children.
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Reviews for The Brilliant Life of Eudora Honeysett
171 ratings20 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Beautiful! Touching! I'm still wiping happy/sad tears from my eyes.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Eudora Honeysett is an eighty five year old lady living in Britain. Her life is winding to an end and she is without family and has few friends. She fears dying in a nursing home and so she contacts a company that will help her with assisted suicide. It’s a big decision, but Eudora becomes more firmly convinced that it is right for her and begins to solidify her plans.Then ten year old Rose moves in next to Eudora and insists on becoming Eudora’s friend. Gradually Eudora is drawn into the family next door as well as developing a friendship with a recent widower, Stanley.But Eudora’s heart is failing. She must make decisions whether her planned ‘vacation’ to Switzerland is the end of life option she truly wants. And her friends of only a few months definitely have opinions as to what a ‘good death’ entails.This book is sweet but also very sad. It highlights the plight and dilemma of many elderly people, especially those living alone and feeling they have outlived their place in society. I’m not sure friends of only a few months would step up as Eudora’s friends did. I believe that there are many possibilities of a good death and not just the one presented here. It was written well enough that it evoked both of my parents’ deaths for me and rather than the ‘life affirming’ story many reviewers report, it left me feeling sad.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Eudora is 85 years old, and fears dying like her mother did - alone and ill in a hospital. She wants to take charge of her death, while she still can, just as she has taken charge of her life. She is done with life, one that really has taken more from her than it ever gave to her. But then she meets Rose, a ten year old full of joie de vivre, and Stanley, who recently became a widower. These unlikely three people, each dealing with their own set of sorrows and problems, (yes, Rose has had her share, too), become the best of friends. And now, Eudora realizes that she is not only loved, she is needed. It’s a tender story, with sad parts and yet hopeful ones. With the help of others who care about her, Eudora realizes she may not need the people in Switzerland after all. Well written with likable characters with astounding personalities, this amazing story says it all.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This is such a great feel good read. It dove so well into the human condition while perfectly depicting the fragile nature of love and our need for each other. I love the frankness that this book approaches death with, it was comforting, enraging and beautiful.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I passed this up a few times. I knew the main them was about dying in old age. I just didn't feel up to it. But I saw so many recommendations for it that I finally decided to grab the audiobook on Libby. I enjoyed the characters immensely. I enjoyed the story. It is very life-affirming.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Be in the mood to shed some tears with this one, though it’s also plenty heartwarming.I adored the present day characters so much, particularly ten year old Rose with her eccentricities heartbreakingly shunned by some of her peers, her curiosity about everything, and her fondness for elderly neighbors Eudora and Stanley.I actually felt a little resentment whenever the book shifted to flashback mode only because of how invested I was in that present day story of found family. The flashbacks were in fact well-written, too, and necessary in conveying what Eudora’s been through, how she ended up alone, and what it means for her to finally have people who care about her again.This book does talk extensively about end of life options, its definitely emotionally challenging subject matter though ultimately that aspect of the story was handled as beautifully as it could be.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This book is a delight. Bittersweet, sad, and almost unbearable happiness and how all of these emotions affect one particularly unique woman and cause her to consider how she has lived her life, and how, at the end of her life, why she is considering all her options for how she will choose to end it.. This is a very moving and poignantly hopeful novel about Eudora Honeysett and how she is dealing with her end-of-life decisions. Just when she thinks she has a plan, along comes ten-year old Rose Terwidney. Rose enters like a whirlwind into her life when her family move in next door. At the same time she meets Stanley who has been recently widowed. Eudora's whole life opens up after that fateful knock on the door. Eudora becomes close to the Terwidney family and Stanley's family while at the same time she reminisces about her earlier life. She suffered the devastating loss of her father in 1940, at the very beginning of World War II, and at the age of 12, she effectively becomes the head of her household as her mother's unconsolable grief traps her forever in the year of 1940. To say that Eudora is jaded when we meet her in this book, is an understatement. To see her come out of her shell and blossom with these wonderful people in her life. gives us all hope for a bright future. These are characters that will stay with you long after your close the pages on this book.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Eudora Honeysett is 85 and she is tired of being tired, and the other encumbrances felt by a 85 year- old body. When she found an institution that would help her transition, embraced the idea of freedom from pain and old age.Then, she met Rose, a ten year old little girl who provided life and love and adventure. And, her life was turned upside down by this wise loving little girl, and a mutual older man whose name is Stanley.Their bond causes Eudora to question life and death.While I enjoyed the relationship of Eudora, and her two new friends, at times, the book felt disconnected and I had difficulty following the story.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Eudora Honeysett is 85 years old and has had more than enough of this life. A chance meeting at a hospital appointment sets her on the course of voluntary euthanasia and the prospect excites her as much as anything else that is currently going on in her life. She feels strongly that her end should be on her own terms and not in an old people's home, full of indignities and life prolonging treatments. Then new neighbours move in, a young couple with a vivacious daughter, Rose, who immediately decides that Eudora is her new best friend. Along with Rose and a fellow pensioner, Stanley, who helps Eudora when she falls, Eudora starts to experience life in a whole new way. (DubaiReader Desc.)When I first started reading this, it reminded me so much of "A Man Called Ove" because the theme is so similar. Something I enjoyed about "Eudora Honeysett" was the look-back at her life from 1940 on. Her life and family relationships were difficult and ultimately colored her view of life. Rose and Stanley help her to realize that families come in different shapes and sizes and these people really do love and care for her. A beautiful story.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Thoughtful book about life, aging, and death. England at it’s best
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This novel is about a prim, regret-filled misanthropic 85-year-old woman who decides to plan her own death. Every time I thought the feel-good story was going in one direction, it swerved a little so was not, in the end, fit for Guidepost but seemed like a possible reality. I'm not completely sure about the 10-year-old neighbor. Precocious children can be difficult to write realistically, so maybe she's a little too much to be true but still enjoyable.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I enjoy reading about people who are older than I. Though a fictional character, Eudora Honeysett, an 85 year who has tired of the routine of doctor appointments and not much else. Eudora decides to put things in order and call it quits on life with the help of an agency. The book seesaws back and forth her present and her past life. Before her father left to serve in the war, her life seemed ideal, but her father did not return, and he had told her to take of her mother and her baby sister yet to be born.Her childhood was not happy taking care of her mother and sister, it was of sacrifice and self-denial. Now, in retirement, she did not point in going on. But a ten-year-old girl moves in nearby. Rose is intelligent, different and prefers adventures and a widower engages both of them in little enjoyable experiences, like picnics.What will happen to Eudora when the time come for her planned death?I really knew what Eudora was going through with nothing but the routine of appointments, but I am the kind of person who wakes up thrilled to have another day to enjoy. I enjoyed this book so much. I bought for myself and gave my eyes a reI enjoy reading about people who are older than I. Though a fictional character, Eudora Honeysett, an 85 year who has tired of the routine of doctor appointments and not much else. Eudora decides to put things in order and call it quits on life with the help of an agency. The book seesaws back and forth her present and her past life. Before her father left to serve in the war, her life seemed ideal, but her father did not return, and he had told her to take of her mother and her baby sister yet to be born.Her childhood was not happy taking care of her mother and sister, it was of sacrifice and self-denial. Now, in retirement, she did not point in going on. But a ten-year-old girl moves in nearby. Rose is intelligent, different and prefers adventures and a widower engages both of them in little enjoyable experiences, like picnics.What will happen to Eudora when the time come for her planned death?I really knew what Eudora was going through with nothing but the routine of appointments, but I am the kind of person who wakes up thrilled to have another day to enjoy. I enjoyed this book so much. I bought for myself and gave my eyes a rest with large print.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This novel is a clever and uplifting tale of life, and the healing powers of friendship. Eudora is both wry and endearing as she contemplates her future and comes to terms with the past. It is only through an unlikely friendship that she begins to enjoy the present. Beautifully written, this novel explores a sensitive subject with humor and honesty. And shows that good friends make life worth living.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Uplifting and good fun.I really enjoyed this, a serious subject but covered in a lighthearted way. In many ways it reminded me of A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman, as the main character has decided that she's done with her life and wants to travel to Switzerland to finish things.Eudora Honeysett is 85 years old and has had more than enough of this life. A chance meeting at a hospital appointment sets her on the course of voluntary euthanasia and the prospect excites her as much as anything else that is currently going on in her life. She feels strongly that her end should be on her own terms and not in an old people's home, full of indignities and life prolonging treatments. Then new neighbours move in, a young couple with a vivacious daughter, Rose, who immediately decides that Eudora is her new best friend. Along with Rose and a fellow pensioner, Stanley, who helps Eudora when she falls, Eudora starts to experience life in a whole new way. So will she still go ahead with her plans?There were some lovely characters here, especially Rose with her wacky sense of fashion. After a run of domestic noir books, with unreliable characters and nasty men, this was a breath of fresh air. I'm not often amused by books but this did make me smile several times and the narration by Nicolette McKenzie was the perfect finishing touch.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This is an absolutely delightful book about a woman, Eudora Honeysett, facing the end of her life. She wants to die with dignity and is taking steps to take matters into her own hands. Enter a 10 year old girl, Rose, and an elderly widower, Stanley. These two become unlikely companions to Eudora to help her appreciate deep friendship and caring in her later years.This book was reminiscent of another favorite, A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman. I loved the effervescence of Rose, the goofiness of Stanley, and the practicality of Eudora. As the story unfolds, Eudora flashes back to her childhood and young adult years, reminiscing about WWII, her father Albert, her mother Beatrice, and her sister Stella, as well as friendships with Sylvia, Eddie, and Sam. All of these relationships shaped Eudora. This is a story that implores you to keep living and enjoy life because it is precious. It begs you to live while you are able and to discuss death openly.I absolutely loved this treasure of a story. Thanks to The Book Club Girls, Harper Collins, and Net Galley for the ARC.#TheBrilliantLifeOfEudoraHoneysett #AnnieLyons #NetGalley #HarperCollins #TheBookClubGirls
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5“The Brilliant Life of Eudora Honeysett” is another novel of senior regeneration in the publishing fad that was kicked off by the international bestseller “A Man Called Ove.” These novels tend to be titled "The Adjective Noun of Firstname Lastname," and they have cartoonish covers with gray-haired people and pets, so they are easy to spot when selecting books.Eudora Honeysett, of Suffolk, England, has decided that life past the age of 80 has no more to offer and she is making plans for an assisted, dignified death.The novel is set firmly and disconcertingly in the present day. Eudora feels that she no longer belongs in the modern world and frankly, she is hostile toward modern life in general. The mobile phone preoccupation of everyone she meets is particularly irritating. Because she has suffered a fall, Eudora feels increasingly fragile. On the rare occasions when she is not socially invisible, she is in the way and subjected to rudeness from the young. These profane verbal attacks feel like assaults and deepen her depression. Death does not frighten Eudora, but she is terrified at the prospect of losing control over her final years, which she imagines can only be a devolving nightmare. Eudora deplores the political direction of England and the overall state of the world and humanity, and she wants out before things get any worse.If you know the subgenre, you know that total strangers will appear to change Eudora’s entire outlook and trajectory and make her focus on friendships and delights that are right in front of her, instead of being preoccupied with the doom-and-gloom news cycle and her impending lonely death. Rose, the little girl who is Eudora’s primary salvation, is a fun character, and of course Eudora discovers that she does have wisdom and insight to offer to the small people who will inherit England’s future. “Brilliant Life” is a good refresher about what’s important, of course, and comfortingly describes what new possibilities can open up past 80 if you're lucky enough to have wonderful new neighbors who take a sudden and persistent interest in you and your welfare. "Brilliant Life" never got too schmaltzy for my taste and had a fair amount of charm and warm humor. I recommend it for light reading if you are still into the golden-years-turn-gold trend. Pun intended: it's beginning to get old.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I just adored this wonderful book about coming to terms with death and with what life has to offer. Eudora Honeysett is 85 and wants to end her life with dignity on her terms. But meeting her 10 year old neighbor Rose and forming a friendship with her neighbor, Stanley, makes her rethink her decision. The book is told in present day but there are short recollections of Eudora's life over the years from her childhood through adulthood that help you to understand how she got to where she is today. It is beautifully written with wonderfully quirky and interesting characters. It reminded me a lot of A Man Called Ove. Thanks to NetGalley and Book Club Girls for the digital ARC.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5What a delightful breath of fresh air. I love Eudora! I work with the elderly and I see my residents in Eudora and it just gives me such delight to see how much life she has left! Bless Rose for showing her this.
Such a powerful story - one we should all read. - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5No nonsense, Eudora Honeysett decides at 85 years old she's had enough of life and is ready to fill out the form to end it with medical assistance. The reader can easily try to guess that something will stop her especially when she makes friends with a 10 year old neighbor girl that enjoys her company along with an older gentleman who recently lost his wife. The book switches back and forth between the present time and when Eudora was growing up. It highlights her life with times of guilt which she would like to bury.
I found this book to be interesting yet very sad as it shows how the older generation gets caught up with feelings of being useless and a burden to society. The young girl welcomes her as she would a beloved grandmother which makes it soothing to the heart. I doubt this happens very often but the book makes you want to hug Eudora as well as the other characters. I enjoyed reading it. - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Eudora Honeysett is one of my new favorite characters. She reminds me of Ove and I love a good curmudgeon.
Book preview
The Brilliant Life of Eudora Honeysett - Annie Lyons
Chapter 1
WHEN EUDORA HONEYSETT hears the flip-clunk of the letterbox on this particular Tuesday morning, her heart skips before she pulls it back down to earth like a rapidly descending hot-air balloon. It will be junk mail as usual. Unsolicited junk. As she struggles to a standing position, retrieves her stick, and anchors herself to gravity, Eudora marvels, not for the first time, at humanity’s ability to fill the world with unwanted junk. The oceans are stuffed with plastic, the landfills with broken three-year-old fridges, and her doormat with an endless littering of pizza leaflets, advertisements for retirement homes, and flyers from individuals offering to repave a driveway she doesn’t have. Occasionally, she casts a critical eye over the expensively produced retirement-home brochures filled with photographs of smiling elderly couples toasting their successful move to the old person’s equivalent of a Premier Inn. Eudora can’t imagine anything worse. She was born in this house and intends to die in this house, hopefully sooner rather than later.
Death is an inevitable preoccupation for a woman of Eudora’s years, but she can’t recall a time when it wasn’t lurking in the background. It’s partly due to growing up during a world war, she supposes. She doesn’t fear it though. She is wryly amused by the world’s innate ability to deny death but wholly unsurprised too. People are too busy staring at their telephones, endlessly searching for some truth that will never come, idly sniggering at infantile video clips of goodness knows what, never stopping to notice the universe around them or the people in it. They certainly never notice her. Eudora Honeysett is invisible, and she doesn’t care one jot. She has lived her life as best she can. She is ready for the next step, the final destination, or whatever half-baked euphemism people insist on using these days.
Death. The end. She’s rather looking forward to it. It may be a black hole or, if she’s lucky, she’ll be reunited with all the people she’s ever loved. This is a short list but then why do people insist on having hundreds of friends? She heard a discussion on the radio the other day about toxic friendships
and how you need to rid yourself of these kinds of people. Eudora’s advice would be to avoid them in the first place. Keep yourself to yourself. Mind your own beeswax, as her mother was fond of saying.
She retrieves the post from the mat with a certain amount of difficulty and is pleasantly surprised to find an A4-sized envelope with a Swiss postmark addressed to her among the rubbish. Eudora experiences that skip of anticipation again, this time well-founded. She’s been expecting this, looking forward to it even. She carries the envelope with the other items balanced on top to the kitchen, holding it out like a holy artifact, worthy of respect and awe. She sifts through the other post. There’s another letter addressed to her—one more wholly unnecessary hospital appointment. Eudora understands that it’s the NHS’s duty to preserve life, but sometimes she wishes they’d leave her alone. Sometimes she wishes there was an opt-out clause, a way of making it all stop. Eudora throws the letter to one side and grasps the A4 envelope in her faltering grip. Glancing at the clock, she reluctantly places the precious item to the side. She will save it for later so that she can give it her full attention.
Eudora gathers her belongings in preparation for leaving the house. She welcomes this daily routine. She may be world-weary, but she refuses to stay indoors all day, slumped in a chair like many of her peers. Her body is winding down like an old clock, but she is damned if she’s going to accelerate the process. Eudora gets up every morning at eight and leaves the house by ten. There are far too many slovens in the world. Eudora does not intend to join their ranks.
She picks up the bag containing her swimming things and leaves the house. The bright sunlight is rather dazzling, and it takes a few moments for her glasses to adjust, bringing shade and comfort. Eudora notices that the estate agent’s for sale
sign in front of the house next door has been changed to sold.
She shivers with dread at the prospect of new neighbors. Hopefully they will keep themselves to themselves like the last lot. She notices the postman to-ing and fro-ing from house to house and avoids his gaze. They’ve been on bad terms since she scolded him for taking a shortcut in front of her house, tramping a path through her daylilies so that they failed to bloom last year. He used to stop and chat occasionally but now he looks the other way. She doesn’t care. He was being inconsiderate and needed to be told.
Eudora makes slow progress but remains doggedly determined. She soon falls into a steady tap, step, step, tap, step, step rhythm using her walking stick, or third leg
as the smiling social worker called it. Her name was Ruth and she was enthusiastically positive. Eudora didn’t share her cheer but didn’t mind it either. Ruth was kind, and in Eudora’s world, this commodity was in short supply. It was wise to embrace it whenever possible.
Ruth had appeared as if by magic one day last year after Eudora’s fall. One minute, Eudora was walking along the pavement, and the next, she was kissing it. Unfortunately, a man with two irritatingly yappy dogs witnessed the incident and insisted on calling an ambulance. Eudora had tried to assert that she would be fine if he could simply direct her back to her house. She was then overwhelmed with sudden panic as she tried and failed to recall her address. In a flash it came to her.
Quay Cottage, Cliff Road, Waldringfield, Suffolk.
The man frowned. Suffolk?
Yes,
insisted Eudora.
His expression was kindly. I don’t think so, my love. This is south-east London. Not Suffolk. I’ll call that ambulance. You might have a concussion.
And so the process began with a hair-raising ambulance trip leading to a lengthy wait in the Accident and Emergency department. It was during this time that Eudora experienced something of an epiphany. She’d never considered the terrifyingly closed atmosphere of a packed A&E waiting room to be a conduit for enlightenment, but Eudora had lived long enough to know that life never ceases to surprise.
It was the woman with barely any teeth and the hairy mole on her cheek who set the fires of Eudora’s mind ablaze. She looked like a witch from a children’s fairy tale, except there was kindness that shone from her rheumy eyes as she talked, which she did incessantly as soon as Eudora made the questionable decision to sit beside her.
Not long now for you and me,
she wheezed, glancing up at Eudora.
One can only hope,
replied Eudora with a polite smile. Although it’s very crowded. I fear we may be here some time.
The woman shook her head. Not in here, you silly goose. I mean we’ve not got long to live.
Normally, Eudora would have been offended, but she could see that this strange little woman was something of a kindred spirit. Well, that too,
she admitted. But unfortunately, we don’t have much control over these things.
I thought about killing myself,
said the woman as if she were discussing what she might have for lunch.
Good heavens above!
The woman eyed her with amusement. Don’t pretend you haven’t. Everyone our age thinks about it.
A horror from the past elbowed its way into Eudora’s memory. Certainly not,
she said, sitting up straighter in her chair.
Mind your backs!
shouted a paramedic as she and a colleague burst through the door with an elderly man on a trolley. A host of medical professionals appeared from nowhere, checking the man’s vital signs as they hurried him through. He’s going into arrest!
The waiting room seemed to hold its breath as they disappeared down a corridor. Don’t want to end up like that poor old bugger, do you?
said the woman, tapping Eudora’s arm. Being poked and prodded when you’re on your way out. May as well take control of your destiny if you can.
But how?
asked Eudora, curiosity getting the better of her fear.
The woman tapped the side of her nose and winked before reaching into the bag that she wore slung across her front like a life belt. She held out a dog-eared leaflet, which Eudora accepted as if it were a dirty sock. Give them a call.
Elsie Howlett?
called a nurse.
The woman rose steadily to her feet. Take care, Eudora,
she said without a backward glance.
It wasn’t until much later, after Eudora had undergone rounds of tests and consultations with overworked, red-eyed doctors and breezily efficient nurses, that she realized she’d never told Elsie her name. Eudora supposed she must have overheard her conversation with the paramedic. Against her better judgment and for want of something else to do, Eudora had read Elsie’s leaflet from cover to cover. It had set her brain into overdrive as a frenzy of thoughts rushed through it like a series of fireworks igniting one after another. As the doctor addressed her with hand-wringing sympathy, presumably in response to the fact that she was extremely old and he couldn’t offer a cure, a switch flicked in her mind and a decision was made. When she was finally given permission to leave, she clutched Elsie’s leaflet to her chest and approached one of the nurses.
Excuse me, I was wondering if I might be able to see Elsie Howlett, please?
The nurse’s face fell. Are you a relative?
No. I’m a
—Eudora searched for the appropriate word—friend.
The nurse glanced behind her as she spoke. I’m not really supposed to give information to nonrelatives.
Oh right. Well, I’m her sister then.
The weary nurse managed a half-smile. I’m sorry, my love. Elsie passed away about half an hour ago.
Oh,
said Eudora, squeezing the leaflet into a ball. She died.
The nurse touched her lightly on the sleeve. Yes. I’m sorry.
Eudora looked into her eyes. Don’t be. She was ready to go.
The nurse nodded uncertainly. You take care.
As Eudora traveled back from the hospital, blinking into the autumn sunshine from the questionable comfort of the patient transport vehicle, she felt as if she’d been reborn. The NHS now had her in their well-meaning grasp, but Eudora had Elsie’s wisdom and bloody-minded determination on her side. She couldn’t imagine a more potent force.
Ruth had been another one in the long list of people determined to preserve Eudora’s existence at all costs. She arrived on a drizzly day in October. Eudora had been housebound for nearly a week and was frustrated to the point of fury with her uncooperative joints. When Ruth presented her with the walking stick, Eudora experienced an unexpected wave of fondness for this woman. It was a gift in the truest sense of the word. Her freedom was restored, the outside world hers for the taking. She could start to put her plan into action.
This fondness rapidly dissolved as Ruth produced a folder and a pen from her bag and pulled out the inevitable form.
Eu-dora Honey-sett,
she said as she wrote.
With two t’s,
said Eudora. The misspelling of her name was a lifelong bugbear.
And you live alone, Eudora?
Eudora would have preferred Miss Honeysett
but managed to stifle her disappointment. Yes.
Any relatives at all?
No.
Ruth’s expression folded into one of sympathy. Friends?
I have a cat.
Ruth glanced over at Eudora’s fat, lazy excuse of a feline, who was asleep on the back of the sofa. She smiled. I’m guessing he’s not much help when it comes to shopping or cleaning the house.
It was meant as a joke but only served to provoke defensiveness in Eudora. I manage,
she said firmly.
I’m sure you do, but I want you to know that we offer all kinds of support. I can put you in touch with agencies who offer cleaning and laundry services, or even organize a carer to come in every day.
Eudora stared at the woman as if she’d suggested a Bacchic orgy. I don’t need any help. Thank you.
Ruth nodded. It was a knowing nod—a nod that had heard this response many times before from all manner of elderly people like Eudora. Please be assured that the help is there if you need it. I’ll leave one of my cards in case you change your mind.
Eudora had thrown it straight in the bin as soon as Ruth left. Montgomery the cat curled around her feet, almost tripping her up, as he demanded food by issuing forth a series of loud meows.
We don’t need anyone, do we, Montgomery?
said Eudora, filling his bowl with biscuits. She placed it on the floor and attempted to scratch the cat behind his ears before receiving a sharp nip in response.
Eudora reaches the leisure center and is grateful for the anonymity that her swim membership brings. She has a card that enables her to sweep past reception. The only issue is with the card-activated barrier. Eudora loathes and detests all technology and very nearly rescinded her membership when they installed these monstrosities. However, she has become well-practiced at the skill of swiping and manages to sail through to the changing rooms with little effort now. She goes to the same changing cubicle, puts her belongings in the same locker, and makes her way to the pool, nodding to the swimmers she sees every week while blessedly avoiding verbal communication. Once in the pool, she ignores the initial chill, disregards the cheerful young woman who remarks on the temperature of the water, and launches herself into aquatic bliss. This is the only place where Eudora feels something akin to joy. For a moment in time, she is weightless and pain-free. She has always been a strong swimmer and glides through the water now with a similar ease to when she swam as a teenager. The aches are still there but they melt into the background as she stretches and reaches her way along the pool.
Eudora doesn’t swim for long—half an hour or so—but it’s enough to bring her what she needs: a sense of purpose and sufficient impetus to face another day. She climbs out of the pool feeling the inevitable weight of reality again as she retrieves her stick and traipses back to the changing room.
As she leaves the leisure center a while later, she notices two women arguing over a parking space. The air is filled with vibrant expletives. Eudora stares openmouthed, unable to mask her horror. When did the world get so loud and angry? One of the women notices her.
What the fuck are you staring at, grandma?
she snarls.
In her younger days, Eudora might have replied, scolded her to stop being rude and respect her elders. But those days are long gone. Eudora can see that this woman is unpredictable and beyond reasoning. You were vulnerable when you were old. Everything is fragile and in danger of breaking.
Excuse me,
mutters Eudora, ducking her head and shrinking away. She hurries as best she can. One of the most frustrating aspects of growing old is the slowing of life’s pace. Up until the age of seventy, Eudora had been able to nip here or pop there, but her nipping and popping days are over. In this age of rush, rush, rush, she is redundant.
She casts a furtive glance over her shoulder. The women are still arguing. One of the leisure-center employees has come out to try and reason with them as a queue of horn-blaring cars forms. Eudora realizes her hands are shaking and decides to stop off at the shop, which marks her halfway point to home. Although she dislikes most aspects of modern life, Eudora has nothing but praise for these scaled-down supermarkets, which have appeared on almost every main street in recent times. Not only are they convenient, well-placed, and large enough for her to remain anonymous while she shops, they also carry the reassuring presence of a security guard.
She nods to this particular gigantic bear of a man standing with arms folded by the front door and breathes in the sacred cool of refrigerated goods. She walks steadily around the store, retrieving a pint of milk before finding herself in front of the bakery display.
Her mother never entertained the idea of shop-bought cakes when Eudora was a child. There was always a homemade sponge or fruitcake in the tin and often half a dozen lemon curd tarts made with leftover pastry. Eudora’s eyes alight on a plastic carton containing what promises to be apple turnovers. A memory flickers in her thoughts, bringing with it an unexpected wave of comfort.
She finds herself reaching for the pastries and carrying them to the register before she has time to change her mind.
Eudora continues her journey home with a renewed sense of calm and a secret thrill at her unexpected purchase. On rounding the corner of her street, she is startled by a cacophony of barking as two small dogs encircle Eudora with their leads in a flagrant attempt to upend her.
Chas! Dave! Come here right now!
The dogs dance back the other way, releasing Eudora, who scowls into the face of their owner.
I am so sorry, Miss Honeysett,
says the man. Pardon my French, but these two are little buggers. Are you all right?
Eudora experiences a conflict of emotions. Her annoyance is abated by his use of her proper name but heightened by his cursing and south-east London accent. Added to which, Eudora has no idea who this man is. She guesses him to be a few years younger than her but probably no more than five. His white hair is thin, his appearance relatively smart—a blue-checked shirt with pressed navy trousers. He has laughter lines at the corners of his eyes. She’s never trusted people with laughter lines. I’m quite fine, thank you. Do I know you?
The man holds out his hand with a smile. Stanley Marcham. I scraped you up off the pavement when you’d had a few too many last year.
Eudora stares at him in horror.
He laughs. "I’m joking. But I was there when you had that fall. How are you feeling now?"
Eudora hears the sympathetic concern and wants to be away. Never better. Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .
Stanley nods. Of course. Places to go, people to see.
Eudora sniffs. Quite. Good day.
Mind how you go.
Exhaustion overwhelms Eudora like a wave as she closes the front door on the world. She manages to make some tea and a sandwich and carry them into the lounge before sinking into her chair with relief.
She wakes hours later, tea cold, sandwich untouched, limbs heavy with weariness. Sleep never seems to refresh her these days. It merely keeps her going until the next rest. As her mind returns to full consciousness, she remembers the envelope and the pastries. This is sufficient motivation for her to leave her chair and fetch the items along with a fresh cup of tea. As Eudora moves around the kitchen, she is struck by a thought. Rummaging in the back of a drawer, she finds what she’s looking for. Returning to the living room, she pushes the candle into the turnover and sparks a match. Its flame illuminates the framed photograph behind, of her mother and father with five-year-old Eudora sandwiched between them.
Happy birthday, Eudora,
she whispers before blowing out the light and making a silent wish for the future. She removes the candle and picks up a turnover for a bite. It’s syrupy sweet but she’s hungry and devours half of it before drinking a mouthful of tea to dilute the taste. Eudora wipes her hands and mouth on a handkerchief and picks up the envelope. This is what she’s been waiting for. This is her real birthday treat.
She retrieves the letter opener, which had been her father’s. It’s shaped like a small silver sword. Eudora can remember being fascinated by it as a child but never allowed to touch it. She slices through the envelope and pulls out a stapled sheaf of pages. Her heart quickens as she reads the heading:
KLINIK LEBENSWAHL—OFFERING CHOICE AND DIGNITY IN DEATH AS IN LIFE
She takes a bite from the half-eaten pastry, turns the page, and begins to read.
1940
LYONS TEA SHOP, PICCADILLY
Choose anything you like. Anything at all.
Albert Honeysett’s eyes glittered with possibility.
Are you sure, Daddy? Don’t we need to eat in moderation?
Eudora had read this on a poster. She wasn’t sure what it meant but it sounded important.
Her father laughed. The laugh was huge and warm and always felt to Eudora like an embrace. Dearest Dora,
he said. Always so good and kind. Don’t worry. I put in a call to Mr. Churchill only this morning and he said that as it’s your birthday, you’re allowed a special treat.
Eudora giggled. In that case, please may I have one of the fancy pastries and a glass of lemon cordial?
An excellent choice,
declared Albert, nodding to the waitress that they were ready.
Eudora sat up straighter in her chair with her hands in her lap and peered around at their fellow diners. Apart from a scattering of men in uniform, you would hardly have known there was a war on. She admired the women with their smart hair and neat appearance. She smoothed down her own wrinkled dress—a baggy gingham affair with misshapen collars, which her mother had made from an old tablecloth.
Eudora would never say it out loud of course but she found the war thrilling; the idea of their heroic soldiers fighting for freedom, and Mr. Churchill leading them to victory, was quite the most exciting thing that had ever happened. She had gone to stay with her mother’s uncle in Suffolk for a while soon after war broke out, but her parents decided that it was safe for her to come back to London. She was sure that it would all be over soon. Life could carry on as it had before the war with their happy family of three.
The waitress appeared moments later with their order, and as Eudora noticed the candle on the top of her cake, she decided that life was perfect.
Happy birthday,
said the waitress, placing it in front of her.
Thank you,
replied Eudora.
Happy birthday, Dora,
said her father. Make a wish.
Eudora blew out the candle and closed her eyes. I wish. I wish. I wish this moment could last forever.
The air-raid siren screamed its response. Maybe Hitler’s in charge of wishes today, thought Eudora as her father took her hand and led her to the shelter. It was a squash and a squeeze, but Eudora didn’t mind because she was safe with him. Nothing bad ever happened when Albert Honeysett was around. In the half-light of the shelter, he pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head.
I’ve got a surprise for you,
he said, pulling a napkin-wrapped parcel from his huge overcoat pocket.
My pastry,
said Eudora. Thank you, Daddy.
Happy birthday, Dora.
Would you like a bite?
she asked.
She could hear the smile in his voice. No. You enjoy it. It’s your treat for being such a good girl. You make Mummy and me very happy.
Eudora nestled closer, making sure she savored every bite, the sharp-sweet taste of apples reminding her of days spent picking fruit from Uncle John’s orchard.
It’s a shame Mummy couldn’t come today,
she said, wiping her mouth on the napkin when she’d finished.
Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.
Eudora stared up at her father. There was a note of caution in his voice. Her skin prickled in the close heat of the shelter.
You see, Mummy is very tired at the moment because she’s going to have a baby.
Eudora froze, unsure of how to react.
Her father seemed to sense this. Now, you don’t need to worry because it’s going to be wonderful. You’ll have a new playmate and someone to be your friend for always.
Eudora felt reassured. That did sound nice. Most of her friends at school had siblings. She sometimes wondered if she was missing out.
And of course the baby is going to be the luckiest child in the world to have you as a big sister.
Eudora nestled her head against her father’s chest, breathing in the peppery scent of tobacco.
And there’s something else.
There was that note of caution again. Eudora held her breath. I’m going away for a while.
Where? How long for? When will you come back?
The words tumbled from her.
He squeezed her to him. Eudora started to feel claustrophobic. I can’t really say, and I don’t know for how long. So I need you to be very brave and look after Mummy and the new baby while I’m away.
Questions flooded her mind. But why now? And why can’t you say how long? And why can’t you tell me that it’s going to be all right? Eudora pressed her lips together tightly to stop them spilling out because she knew he would never lie to her and, more than anything, she feared the truth.
The all clear sounded but the two of them stayed where they were until everyone else had gone. Her father held her tightly. Years later, Eudora realized that, rather than comforting her, Albert Honeysett had been clinging to his child, painfully aware of the uncertain future ahead.
So, will you look after Mummy and the baby for me? Please?
She gazed up at him. She thought she saw the reflection of a tear but decided it was a trick of the light. Of course, Daddy. I’ll look after them until you get home and then we can do it together.
Her father nodded before hurrying them to their feet. Good girl, Dora. I knew I could rely on you.
As they emerged, blinking, into the light, Eudora stared up and down the street. Everything looked exactly as it had an hour previously. She could see two women through the window of the tea shop, sitting at the table where she and her father had sat earlier, drinking tea and eating sandwiches as if nothing had happened. She watched the buses and taxis hum along the street, the people milling back and forth, continuing with their lives. Business as usual.
In contrast, as she walked along Piccadilly hand in hand with her father, it was as if every cell of Eudora’s being had changed. It wasn’t until adulthood that she recognized this as the moment her childhood ended. If she’d known the dark times that lay ahead, Eudora probably would have begged her father to let them run back to the shelter and stay there forever.
Chapter 2
THE NEXT MORNING, Eudora is woken not by her alarm clock but by the sound of a lorry reversing. She retrieves her glasses and looks at the clock: