"Inspector Morse" and characters copyright Colin Dexter.
Characters taken from the TV series starring John Thaw and Kevin Whatley.
Written in desperation.
(Note: I can't write in the Newcastle accent, I did try....)
With So Much To Say....
By elfin
(Lewis' POV)
at the house...
'This is the third night of three, long nights. I've sat here, alone. I've never felt so alone. The first night I just sat, my mind blank, letting all the desolation and pain surface from where I'd brutally buried it that afternoon in the canteen, after Strange told me.... His words were a bittersweet gift to me. They restored memories, my way of thinking of you. I silently thank him every day for that. But the guilt, that stings. So much, too much. The things... the way I was thinking of you, the devastation of my respect of you... and that moment I saw the handcuffs after finding your will.... Sir, can you ever forgive me?
'Val understands, somehow. I wonder if she'd be so understanding if you were here. I'd welcome her anger if only you'd walk through the door. I can't help but smile sometimes, when I hear your voice in my mind, you berating me for moping around in the past. I honestly think, and I cling to the hope, that it'll be there always, your voice, your opinion, so entwined with my past that it's become my future. (I read that somewhere). And in my worse moments I remember each and every time I took you for granted and I hate myself.
'The second night, I turned on the tele. Television. Makes me smile that - correcting myself. I am trying, Sir. I read more now, you'd be proud. I'm using this place as my personal library - hope you don't mind, I don't think you would. They're selling the house. They don't care about the contents for the most part, so I'm having just anything that reminds me of you; the books and the music mostly. Strange how some notes strung together release more memories of you than any photograph.
'Janet's given her share to the hospital, as a donation, like. She said you would appreciate that. It seems it's only me - only I - who feels the need to keep a party of you close to me. Like the car. It's mine now, and I swear I'll care for it as you did. I can do that for you at least. I wish I could've given you more when you were here....
'Sorry. Lost it for a moment there. I was fine, you know... (sorry....) fine until that afternoon of Strange's retirement. Until he told me about the handcuffs and the issue list, told me everything.... I thought it was you who'd had the affair with Yvonne Harrison! I thought.... I'm so sorry....
'I miss you. Never thought I'd say that. Never missed you before, when you were away, in those final weeks when we saw so little of one another yet worked together so well. Maybe because I knew you'd always be around the next day, would always be wanting to meet down at the pub for a chat or just to... sit, no matter what the time. Never again. At one time I hated that obsession of yours above any other. Now I miss it.
'I was... telling you about the second night. I turned on the tele and had to tune three of the channels in. Odd, the things that set me off. I sat on the floor, kneeling in front of the bloody tele and sobbing my eyes out. You know, before that afternoon, there had only been tears, grief. Afterwards... now... when I cry, it feels like my heart's being torn out. I feel empty, like a terrible hole inside that I can't fill, no matter how much of you I have around me, or how much I remember.
'That's another odd thing. I know when we've interviewed people in the past, grieving family members, I keep replaying in my mind the words, 'its hurts to remember the good times'. But with me, it's the opposite. When I think about you, I feel better. I keep the picture with me - the one I found in your desk, of you and I, standing by the Jag. Can't even remember when it was taken, or why. And I've racked my brains. I wish I could remember cos it means there's a time I've forgotten. That makes me cry too.
'Tonight, when I got here, I turned on the stereo. I put a tape in, "The Magic Flute" - the one I bought you after the fire - and managed to listen to a few minutes of it before I was sobbing again. I smile at myself sometimes, when I dissolve like that. I hope that at least is a sign that I'm at last starting to recover. I don't want to hang on to this soul-searing pain, I just want to be left with my memories, with my career that you were so instrumental in building. With everything you've been, and still are to me. My boss, my mentor, a master in all I have learnt. Learned? Think I read that somewhere too. So much of what I've read recently makes me think about you. About this gaping hole inside me.
'I shouldn't be here, I know. I'm just making it worse on myself. But I can't be at home right now. I can't deal with the kids. The night... the day you died... I went to bed about six, took too painkillers and slept through, twelve, fourteen hours straight. They pain didn't go away, still hasn't. But... the next night, and for several nights after that, I sat up all night, just staring into space. The week between... before your funeral, Val sent the kids to her Mum's. She's good like that. She was there for me, each evening and each night as I sat there. Like I'm doing here, now. Just sit here until the grief becomes exhausting and I put my feet up and go to sleep. I look terrible, I know I do. Like I've slept on your couch for two nights. No surprise there then.
'I'm pushing my luck at work too. Despite how desperately I need to be there, how much of you still lives on there, not to be working with you pulls at me like nothing else. I can almost believe that one day I'll look up and you'll be standing behind your desk, regarding me with that barely patient expression that I could sometimes believe was affection.
'I know I'm mourning, that this is natural, if slightly unusual. We all are. Until your death, Sir, I didn't realize quite how much life you had. So many people have been to see me, written to me, so many wonderful remembrances. You didn't want a service, but you got a wake. See, a wake is for those of us so cruelly left behind. (Also a quote I know you'd recognize. I can't place it just now.) So many people came, spoke to me of you so warmly. I remembered once fearing that you were lonely. Now... I'm not so sure. It warms me that I'm not so sure.
'Now... now I'm going to have a sip of your Scotch - I'm sure you won't mind - probably get as much as you can handle where you are. Then, I'm going to sleep. Each day, each night is a little easier now. Just a little easier.'
---
at the graveside...
'I bought white roses. I don't know if you had favourites, even if you liked flowers. I doubt it, but like the wake, they're not for you, are they? They're for me. For the conscience of the one placing them. Read that somewhere - one of your books I think.
'Strange came in to see me today, stood in the doorway and stared at your desk for a few minutes. I think he misses you, and the job. Doesn't know what to do with himself now he's retired. He asked me if I was okay... if I was coping. I told him I probably wasn't. But it is better, it is easier. They've promoted me too, Inspector Lewis now it is. I owe it all to you, of course. I'll be getting my own sergeant, Strange told me. I thought I might be a bit easier on him than you were on me at the start.
'People keep reminding me that time heals all wounds. I hope so. I can walk into our office now without shedding a tear. I've had the Jag serviced and driven her home from the garage with little heartache. I even made a start on clearing the house last night, packing the books, like. Val says we'll have to move to a bigger place just to get them all in. But I've room in my little office at home. I just want to read them all, to know what you knew, what you'll never quote me again. I can almost get through the day. But to listen to music, to hear certain pieces... that tape you took from my car that evening I dropped you off. I was worried then, with you complaining of pains and all.... God, could I have done something? If I'd said something...? Oh God....
'Sorry - that was hard. I... I found that tape in your stereo and put it back in the car. But I can't listen to it without crying. The wounds are still too raw I guess. Those final conversations, those last few days.... Hurts too much even now. Did you know the pleasure I gleaned from your smile when you found that tape? From your sparkle when you borrowed it and I told you it was mine.... Just a word, a smile, your pride in me... all I've ever wanted from you. If I don't have the cushion of knowing how you felt when you died, I do have that evening, and the pleasure and pride in your expression forever clear in my mind.
'But it gets easier, Sir, and one of these days I'll be able to go days, weeks without regretting those last few days, and what I thought of you, and how you died with my name on your lips. The nurse... don't even know her name... she caught that bit, but not the rest. She told me, after, and filled a little part of that gaping hole. I guess I meant as much to you as you did to me. I know I did.
'I just want you to know... Morse, that even if the job, family, life stopped me from
ever sitting here again, I will never, ever forget you, nor the impact you had on me, and
everything that I am.'
Lewis touched the white rose he held to his lips, and leaned forward to place it in the
vase with the others. Wiping a single tear from his eye, he stood, finally ready to rejoin
the world around him, the desolation beginning at last to lift from his heart.
fin
elfin
20/09/99