‘The last time we played golf was in January.’ Luke tells the congregation, ‘I don’t know how this conversation came about but he’d told me that he’d always thought of me as a son.’ Luke’s voice starts to shake with emotion. ‘I wish I could change that day and my response. I said, “well I hope that doesn’t mean I have to start calling you Dad.”’ Luke’s voice breaks and my head begs him to please, just keep talking. Please keep talking, because I don’t think I can stand…
Please keep talking, I beg and I look up to him and Luke’s eyes meet mine and I just will him to go on, to finish this as he would want him to. I watch Luke drag in a big breath, I watch Luke hold it all in, so that he can get the last bit out.
He talks just a little bit more about a man who was, to so many, a huge part of their lives. A man who will be missed in different ways by so very many, and he tells him to rest in peace, he’s earned it.
And then he says it.
‘I love you, Dad.’
I can’t stand, I just can’t, except the organ starts as Luke steps down and everyone does.
Stand.
Everyone, except me.
‘Mum!’ Charlotte says, but for a second I don’t think I can. I push up and I sway just a little. I feel Alice pull away, as our shoulders almost meet, when Charlotte cuddles into me. It’s as if I'm taking up too much space, simply by being in the pew, except I’m his wife.
That's all I know how to be.
It's who I am.
Whether we were happy or not, whether our marriage was good or bad, being his wife is all I know and I'm not her any more.
I am holding the song sheet for Charlotte and my hand is trembling and I don’t know who I am.
I'm not the most important person in somebody's life any more.
Apart from Charlotte.
But I’m not talking about Charlotte.
I'm on the wrong page and I don’t know the words to the hymn, well, not very well, so I sort of mouth them.
And then it’s coming to an end. I panic because it really is coming to an end. We sit and music I recognise starts, which means soon we will head for the cemetery and I have to watch him being lowered into the ground.
Morning Has Broken.
I look at him - a photo of him, and then there’s another. He’s very young, very proud and looking a bit shocked and holding a newborn baby.
I see him with Original Jameson Girls camping.
I see his other kids on the day they were born.
I see Gloria and him in high-waisted jeans and there she is again, beaming with him on Luke’s graduation day.
I see him holding my newborn baby, he’s older, but so very good looking and yes, he looks so very proud and yes, still a bit shocked.
I see Charlotte getting her first rosette, then there’s another photo where she’s lifted in his arms and the smile on her face spells adoration.
Charlotte is weeping beside me, I go to put my arm around her but I can't move and I can’t cry, because I can't let go.
I can't faint.
I can't, because my bowels have turned to liquid and I can see the headlines now.
SCORNED WIFE SHITS HERSELF.
But there won’t be headlines, I soothe myself, because there isn't going to be an inquest and nobody ever has to know.
I tighten my arm around Charlotte’s shoulders and Mum gives my shoulder a squeeze. Jess leans forward and hands me a tissue and I wipe Charlotte’s tears and, hard bitch that I am, I don’t even blow my nose.
I hold my head up high because I have no choice.
I have to do this.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Everything, that I’ve spent my life keeping apart, is now coming together at my house.
There's Mum and her merry mob from AA, there are some of his family who like me, some of his family who hate me, his work colleagues and some mums from the school, gym and pony club.
Yes, it's an awful lot more work and yes, a hotel or church hall would have been far easier, but for Charlotte's sake I'm glad that it's being held here. She and her friends and her cousins are in the garden now. It's a glorious spring day and a lot of the adults drift out into the garden