‘Look,’ she says, ‘I know it’s a bit soon to be suggesting it but…’ she’s bright red in the face and I stand there and watch her squirm. ‘We go home in a couple of days, so if I don’t say it now…’
I just stand there.
What does she want? For his gravestone to have a picture of him and Gloria together perchance? Maybe all of the Original Jameson Girls too. You can do anything with Photoshop. Perhaps they could squeeze Charlotte and me on the end.
Mum’s putting out her cheese and pineapple sticks and there’s this sort of wha wha noise in my ears. Alice is talking about Queensland, saying that they’d give Charlotte a good holiday, not now, but if I need it, if I think it would be good for Charlotte.
I just stand there.
I can’t bear it, because it’s never going to be over.
They’re here forever.
He’s dead and I’m left with it.
I mumble something about I’m not happy with her flying and yes, thank you, if I need it and blah blah blah, because that’s what you do at a funeral, especially one you’re hosting.
Except, my face has gone numb.
It has.
It’s sort of all numb down the side and I’m about to be a good wife and suitably grieved and faint, but I’m not a good wife and I’m not grieved, I’m just so angry. I don’t faint, I drool my way out of it, or I try to but Jess sees that I’m struggling. She puts her arm round me and sort of glides me up the stairs and into my room. He’s still lying there on the floor with his Viagra beside him. I’ve changed the sheets, I’ve put Shake and Vac on the carpets but I can still smell him in the room.
Jess lays me down and I want to give in.
I don’t want to go back down stairs.
A double plot will do if I can just lie quietly.
‘It’s okay, Lucy.’ Jess holds me and without her I could not do this.
‘Mum!’
Charlotte’s all panicked. She flings herself into the room and I’m supposed to comfort her, that’s my job, except my body won’t move. Charlotte lies down beside me and I feel her bony body against mine. ‘What’s wrong with mum?’ When I can’t, Jess gives the right answer.
Just not the true one.
‘She’s missing your dad.’
I feel Charlotte beside me and Jess is spooned in beside me too and I’m drenched in sweat and my face is numb and we all know that we have to go back down there.
I’m sorry Lucy, God says to me. He was supposed to be at his desk, he was supposed to die working. He was supposed to be at work. We can only go with the information given.
I get a response from his customer complaints department too.
We are sorry to hear you are unhappy with our services – while we do understand the impact on Charlotte – we have to take all our customers into consideration.
Then there’s one from God’s account department too.
The GFC and the state of the Euro has had a huge impact on everyone and God can’t delay these things until the financial picture is clearer.
We trust you will understand.
Thank you for your loyal patronage…
Except I’m not loyal and neither am I a patron. It seems a bit hypocritical to sign up now but I want God or Jesus or a Higher Power. I want someone, some thing to make it all better, I want a sign that it will all be okay, but I’m not going to get one, I really am on my own.
Luke’s at the bedroom door, he doesn’t say anything.
There’s no “back to it, Lucy” today.
I know it’s expected though and when my face stops being numb, I know that I have to go back down there.
I just do.
So, we do.
We sort of roll off the bed, all in one motion, we just get up and get on and try to get through.
It's a relief when they leave. Luke and Jess take Charlotte and I feel guilty that I’m pleased.
Mum and her AA friends stay for a little bit to clean up.
I can't stand them.
Honestly, you have no idea.
They’re like cheerful elves all fuelled on coffee, all chatting as they work, all filled with their infinite wisdom as, sleeves rolled up, they support each other!
Oh, I know it so well.
I pour myself a drink; a lovely big brandy and I smirk behind my glass as I take a