‘I can't!’ I'm horrified at the prospect, especially as Alice has practically told me that Gloria will be there. ‘I just can't walk in and face Gloria. I can't face any of them.’
I’m not worried about Eleanor, things aren't so terrible between us–she was already married by the time her parents broke up and she and Noel have always been polite with me and lovely with Charlotte. Though it is going to be a bit awkward to see her. We’d guessed that the baby might not be Noel’s when we found out Noel had left a couple of weeks ago. We’d sort of worked it out…
We.
I feel panic closing around me. I’m not a part of a we any more – it’s just me.
He used to do all of this.
‘Please Jess?’ I hate to ask again, Jess has done so much already, but I hate even more that she's holding my hands and shaking her head.
‘You need to do this Lucy.’
‘I can’t,’ I beg. ‘Gloria will be there.’
‘Gloria might be at the funeral,’ Jess voices my dread. ‘It might be easier all around if you see her beforehand and just get it out of the way.’
‘I can’t!’ Apart from Monday, I haven't seen Gloria in ages. He always dealt with that side of things. The last time I saw Gloria, I was pregnant with Charlotte–that's how long it's been. None of his children came to my wedding and it was considered for the best that I wasn’t invited to Bonny and Lex’s - but a few months later, when they emigrated to Australia, he insisted that I come with him to the airport to say goodbye. That really was the last time I was there with all of them.
‘Lucy.’ Jess knows them too, knows what they can be like, know just how difficult that family can be at times, because Luke is still in touch with Gloria. ‘You're going to have to get used to seeing them.’ She confirms what I don't want to know. ‘They’re Charlotte’s family and just because her dad is dead, you can't take them away from her…’ Her voice fades off and I turn around and there is Charlotte standing at the living room door.
She’s lost weight.
She's just a tiny little thing anyway, and she can't really afford to lose weight. It's written on her face–the strain that she is under. I've told her that she doesn't have to go back to school until after the funeral, but it’s taking so long that I don't know if it was the right thing to do. She needs one good thing, she needs this to happen and, stuff the lot of them, I'm taking my daughter to see her niece. I don't care how uncomfortable it is for them.
‘Eleanor and the baby are still in the hospital,’ I tell Charlotte. ‘I thought perhaps we could go and see them this afternoon.’ She lets out this tiny squeal of excitement. You can actually see the grief lift from her as, for a moment, she gets to be an eleven-year-old again but then she starts to worry.
‘We haven’t got her a present.’
‘Mum’s going to go to the shops and get one now,’ Jess says and my eyes widen in panic, I'm just not ready to go out. For Charlotte I'll go to the hospital, but I absolutely cannot face the shops but it would seem that Jess has been busy. ‘I booked you a hair appointment,’ Jess winks. ‘Can't let those Nordic good looks fade.’
‘I'm not going to the hairdresser’s.’ It just seems wrong, people already think that I'm a cold-hearted bitch and they’re going to think it even more if I'm out getting my hair done when he's only been dead a few days.
‘He'd want you to look good,’ Jess says and it's true, it was all he wanted from me and, even if they're not quite showing, I do have roots. If I don't deal with them now, by the funeral they'll be there for all to see.
It matters.
It mattered to him.
And it still matters to me.
It feels strange to be out. The car feels strange, as if I haven't driven in weeks. A bit like when you get in the car after a holiday, or after I had Charlotte and drove for the first time. There's a coffee cup in the cup holder and Monday’s newspaper is on the passenger seat. I have this bizarre thought that maybe I should keep