A Love Like This Page 24
‘Em, sorry to interrupt,’ said Megan, popping her head in the door. ‘It’s getting kind of busy out there. Is there any chance of getting a hand?’
Donna looked at Jan and knew she’d have to take charge. ‘I’ll be out in a minute, Megan. If you stick the closed sign on the door and don’t let anyone else in, we’ll deal with the queue and then we’re going to shut up shop for a few days.’
‘But what about all the cakes?’ Megan was wide-eyed.
‘Don’t worry about them. Jan’s had some bad news. We need to close.’
Megan nodded and scurried off.
Jan shook her head. ‘But, Donna, we can’t be—’
‘No buts, Jan. We’re going to deal with this. Now give Bob a ring and see if he can meet us at home in an hour. You can tell him then. Does Chris know yet?’
‘Yes. He didn’t want me to come in after I got the call this morning but I wanted to. I was numb. I thought I could just forget and get on with my normal day.’
Donna shook her head. ‘You were in shock, Jan. It’s a lot to take in. Now just give me ten minutes to help Megan and I’ll order us a taxi.’
She spent the next few minutes serving customers and as soon as the shop was empty, she sent Megan home with a huge box of cakes. She could hear Jan talking on the phone and decided to give her a few minutes before going back into her. It was hard to believe that Jan had such a colourful past. And she’d had a lot of heartache too, by the sound of it. She’d always seemed so strong and happy that Donna hadn’t even considered that she could have problems too. Jan had sat and listened to Donna moan about her mother. She’d wiped her tears when that awful tragedy had happened. And she’d opened her home to her not once but twice when she was at her lowest. Now it was time for Donna to repay the favour.
* * *
‘So how did she sound? I can’t believe you actually spoke to her after all this time.’
‘Well, how do you think she sounded, Bob? She’s just lost her husband.’
‘I know, Mam, but how did she react to you? Did she say much?’
‘She just said she thought I should know. She sounded drained – as though she’d been crying non-stop. Her voice was kind of … kind of dead.’
Both Donna and Bob simply nodded. Sometimes there just weren’t words.
‘She said she’d ring back later today with the funeral arrangements,’ Jan continued, her voice wobbling. ‘But how can I go to the funeral? How can I go and mourn his death when I wasn’t there for him when he was alive?’
Donna and Bob both went to her side and put an arm around her as she cried. Donna didn’t understand or know the full story about what went on but, no matter what, it was awful to see Jan so cut up. It was Bob who broke the silence.
‘You need to go to the funeral, Mam. No matter what happened in the past, he was your brother. She wouldn’t have rung you if she didn’t want you there.’
‘That’s true,’ said Donna, picking up on Bob’s point. ‘Why else would she have contacted you? You should definitely go. And we’ll go too, won’t we, Bob?’
‘Of course we will. We’ll be right there by your side.’
Jan blew her nose. ‘Thanks. You’re very good to me. I don’t deserve you two.’
‘And what about me?’ Nobody had heard Chris arriving in from work and he was standing in the room watching them.
‘Ah, Chris, love. You’re the best. I definitely don’t deserve you!’ She began to cry again and Donna and Bob shifted to make room for Chris.
They slipped quietly out of the living room to allow the couple to have some privacy and Bob let out a huge breath when they went into the kitchen. ‘Well, that was a lot, wasn’t it?’
Donna put her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. ‘And how about you? How are you feeling about it all?’
‘I’m grand.’ He pulled away so he could fill the kettle. ‘I’m just worried about Mam. She’s taking it very badly.’
‘From what your mam said, I gather you’ve never met him or any of his family?’
‘No, never. It was never a secret but I suppose I just grew up accepting that my uncle wasn’t part of our lives.’
‘But weren’t you curious? Did you never think about looking him up? Your mam said he had a son too.’ She knew she was pushing it but it was unbelievable to her that somebody could turn their back on family for so many years.
Bob took four cups out of the cupboard and threw teabags into them. He looked at her then. ‘Why do I feel you’re accusing me of something, Donna?’
‘I … I’m not.’ She flushed. ‘I’m just trying to understand.’
‘Well, maybe it’s something none of us will ever understand. I don’t know the whole story but I think there were a lot of things that led to them eventually losing touch.’
‘That’s what your mam said. But to lose touch completely? To not even care if he was alive or dead?’
‘Donna!’ Bob glared at her and she knew she’d gone too far.
‘God, I’m sorry. That was an awful thing to say.’
‘Yes, it was. How do you think Mam would feel if she heard you talking like that? Do you honestly think she didn’t care? Does she look like a woman who doesn’t care?’
‘I know, I know. And I really do feel sorry for your mam. But to think that she could have had a brother for so many years …’ A sob caught in her throat.
Bob’s face softened as realisation dawned. ‘You’re thinking about Tina.’
Donna nodded and let the tears fall.
‘Come here,’ said Bob, hugging her close to him. ‘I can understand how you feel but you also have to understand that there’s two sides to every story. They were both to blame for drifting apart.’
‘Ah, I see you’re organising tea here,’ said Chris, poking his head into the kitchen. ‘Make your mam’s a strong one, Bob. Plenty of sugar.’
‘We’ll be right there, Chris.’ Donna turned back to Bob and smiled faintly. ‘I really am sorry for how I behaved earlier. I was just reminded of … well, you know.’
‘Forget about it, Donna.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Now let’s go back in and support her. It’s what families do. And you’re family, Donna.’
‘Am I?’
‘Of course. You’re practically her daughter.’
They headed in with the tray of tea and Donna felt a little unsettled. He hadn’t said daughter-in-law. He should have said: ‘You’re practically her daughter-in-law.’ But he’d said ‘daughter’. Maybe it was a throwaway comment. Was it a slip of the tongue or could it be that Bob loved her more as a sister than a lover.
Chapter 35
Will grimaced at his reflection as he tried to fix his tie. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a suit or a tie and he just knew he’d feel uncomfortable in it all day. Why was it that people just couldn’t be themselves at funerals? Why did people have to conform to some tradition that says everyone must wear dark, sombre clothes that they wouldn’t ever wear otherwise?
He finally got the knot in place and tucked his white shirt into his trousers. It was only eight o’clock but they’d be closing the coffin at nine to head to the church. He could already hear the front door opening and closing regularly downstairs as people came to pay their respects. He couldn’t face them just yet.
He flopped down on the unmade bed and rested his head on the pillow. How things can change in the blink of an eye. You’d think he’d have learned that lesson from what happened to Jack but he never thought he’d be in this position again. At least not for a very long time. His eyes became moist and he turned to rub them against the pillowcase.
It was hard to believe his dad was dead. His lovely, quiet, unassuming father was gone. Just like that. It had been the best and worst night of his life. He’d felt so lucky to be celebrating his engagement to Silvia. It had been a fun party and, despite his mother barking orders at him, he’d relaxed and fully enjoyed it. But then the night had ended in such tragedy.
&n
bsp; He squeezed his eyes tight as the memory of that moment filled his mind. It was a picture that would be embedded in his brain forever. His dad sitting up in the bed with his vest on. A newspaper spread out in front of him on the financial pages. His face relaxed. Relaxed and dead. His mother kneeling on the tea-soaked bed screaming at him to wake up. He never did.
‘Are you okay, Will?’ Silvia came into the room and sat down on the bed. A lump formed in his throat when he saw her in a black silk dress. Silvia never wore black. He sat up and leaned against the headboard.
‘Not really. I still can’t believe it.’
Silvia took his hand. ‘Me neither. He was such a gentleman and he was lovely to me.’
‘He loved you, Sil. He told me so. He couldn’t wait for us to get married so that he’d have you as a daughter-in-law.’
They sat in silence for a few moments, lost in thought. Everything seemed so surreal. A heart attack, the doctor in the hospital had said. It had been sudden so there was no suffering. Thank God for that at least. But he was only sixty-two. Sixty-two years old. He should have had years left.
‘Do you think you should come down now?’ Silvia was looking at him with concern. ‘There’s already a crowd down there and your mother really isn’t able to deal with everyone on her own.’
Will jumped up off the bed. ‘I suppose I should. How do I look?’
‘Gorgeous. Sad but gorgeous.’
He kissed her lightly on the top of the head and put an arm around her as they headed downstairs. He heard the clatter of cups and for once was thankful for caterers. There’d been so much to organise these last couple of days. He never would have thought of half the things and they were very grateful for the undertakers who’d helped them organise everything. He took a deep breath before pushing the door to go into the living room, where his father was laid out.
‘I’m so sorry, love.’
‘God rest his soul.’
‘He was a good man.’
‘Taken far too young.’
‘You’re the man of the house now.’
The condolences came thick and fast and Will found it hard to control his emotions. It’s not that he felt he shouldn’t cry. He wasn’t afraid to shed a few tears. But what he was afraid of was not being able to stop. His mum was talking to Tom and Gloria, the next-door neighbours, and he overheard Gloria saying: ‘I know how you feel,’ followed closely by, ‘He’s in a better place now.’
Will could never understand why people said stupid things at funerals. Firstly, Gloria Ford didn’t have the first idea how his mother felt. Wasn’t her husband standing there beside her? And secondly, no, he wasn’t in a better place. The best place he could be was here. Right here where he had a loving family and a great life.
‘You look very smart, William,’ said his mother, coming over to stand by his side. She grabbed his hand. ‘We’ll get through this, love.’
He looked at her and saw her vulnerability. She’d just lost the great love of her life and they both knew things would never be the same for her again. Everyone faded into the background as Will squeezed his mother’s hand and looked at his father in the coffin.
He hadn’t gone to see Jack in his open coffin. He hadn’t been able to handle it. He’d wanted to remember him for the fun-loving, lively guy he was. So today Will was seeing a dead body for the first time. It was a strange experience. His dad had always worn his age well but, like some miracle of nature, all his wrinkles seemed to have disappeared. Jack wished they hadn’t. He didn’t look like his dad. His skin looked transparent, despite the make-up they’d applied, and his lips seemed to have disappeared into his mouth.
‘Doesn’t he look gorgeous,’ some woman said, as she blessed herself and bowed her head.
Will wanted to scream: ‘No, he doesn’t!’ but he refrained.
‘It’s almost time,’ said the man from the funeral home. He seemed to have a naturally sombre face and Will wondered idly if he got the job because of it or if he developed it after spending time on the job.
All of a sudden somebody burst into a decade of the rosary and Will was fascinated by the low mumbling of the crowd in prayer. Did they even think about what it was they were saying? Or was it just habit to recite word after word, prayer after prayer? But he couldn’t condemn it because it gave his mother comfort. She’d always found comfort in prayer and she clung now to her rosary beads and joined in with the rest of them.
And then the prayers were over. People either kissed his father or made the sign of the cross over his forehead before heading outside. They were alone then. He, Silvia and his mother. Silvia gave them both a hug and kissed George, saying she’d leave them alone for a bit.
‘Oh, George,’ said his mother, beginning to weep. ‘What am I going to do without you?’
Will was crying too. He held onto his mother’s hand tight as they said their final goodbyes and watched as the coffin was closed.
‘Bye, Dad,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll miss you.’
There were dark clouds overhead as they stepped outside the house and droplets of rain began to fall.
‘That’s Our Lord crying,’ an old man said, knowingly. ‘It means George was a good man.’
‘Rain is a sign that he’s being taken to heaven,’ said another.
Will knew people meant well but he just couldn’t wait for the day to be over. He helped his mother into the black limousine before getting in himself and smiled at Silvia, who slipped in beside him. He was thankful to have her, especially today. She’d been brilliant since it happened and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was going to be a wonderful wife.
* * *
‘Do you think this is okay?’ asked Donna, fiddling with the belt of a black A-line skirt. ‘Or does it look too officey?’
‘It’s fine,’ said Lexie. ‘I don’t know why you’re getting yourself all worked up about an outfit.’
‘Oh God, it’s awful, isn’t it? I’ll find something else.’
Lexie rolled her eyes but Donna was on edge this morning and couldn’t seem to settle on anything to wear. They were going to Jan’s brother’s funeral and she really wasn’t looking forward to it. Funerals had always unsettled her but ever since the fire she’d avoided them completely. But she wanted to be there for Jan today – she and Bob had promised to support her every step of the way. It was going to be difficult for her to see people she hadn’t seen in such a long time.
A few minutes later she emerged wearing a black and white knee-length dress with thick black tights.
‘You’re not still stressing over what to wear?’ said Bob, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. ‘We’ll be dead late at this rate.’
‘At least I’m dressed, which is more than can be said for you. What about this one?’ She twirled around to show the dress off in its entirety.
Bob whistled. ‘That’s perfect, Donna. Great choice.’
‘You think?’
‘Definitely. You look gorgeous, doesn’t she, Lexie?’
‘Yes, but I’ve been telling her that with every outfit she’s tried on.’
‘Right, well I’ll be ready in two minutes,’ said Bob, disappearing into the bedroom. ‘And I’m locking the door so you can’t get in to change again!’
Donna sighed. ‘This will have to do. It’s the most comfortable one anyway. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us, Lexie? There’s plenty of room in the car.’
‘Although it sounds like fun, I think I’ll pass for today.’
‘Don’t let Bob hear you talking like that. He’d go mad.’
‘I know. Sorry about that. But it’s not as though any of you knew the guy. A few days ago, you didn’t even know he existed.’
‘But Jan did. She’s really upset. It’s horrible when all you want to do is change the past but you know it’s never going to happen.’
‘Story of my life,’ said Lexie.
‘Right, are we ready to go?’ Bob stood at the bedroom doo
r and both girls stared at him. He was wearing a tight black T-shirt teamed with skinny black jeans that fell just above his ankle. His cream canvas shoes were on sockless feet and his still-wet, messy blond hair was held back with a hairband.
‘Are you going like that?’ Lexie didn’t mince her words.
‘Well, yes. I was planning to. Do I not look okay?’
‘You look fabulous, Bob,’ said Donna. ‘But it’s a funeral.’ He looked as though he’d just stepped off a catwalk.
‘I’m well aware of that, Donna. But I want to be myself. Let’s face it – I know he was my uncle but I didn’t know him. I don’t want to come across like a chief mourner.’
Donna stood up. ‘Oh God, I’d better go and change again. This just isn’t—’
‘No!’ Bob and Lexie shouted in unison.
Bob ushered her towards the door. ‘Come on. It looks like it’s about to pour rain so the traffic is going to be chaos. See you later, Lexie.’
Donna gazed out the window as Bob pulled the car out of the car park underneath the building and out onto Dorset Street. It was still morning rush hour and traffic was heavy but once they’d turned left down North Circular Road they were going against the flow.
‘I told Mam we’d pick them up at half nine,’ said Bob, accelerating to get through a green light. ‘It should only take us ten minutes from there.’
Donna nodded.
‘Are you okay, Donna? You look a bit peaky.’
‘I’m fine. Just a bit tired.’
‘Are you sure?’ The car swerved as Bob looked at her. ‘Do you want me to stop?’
Donna couldn’t answer. Everything started to swim in front of her eyes and she found it hard to breathe. She could feel prickles of sweat dripping down the back of her neck and, for one awful moment, she thought she was going to throw up.