Undertaking Love Page 0,88
Tomorrow was going to be a long day in more ways than one, not least because the funeral parlour and the chapel needed to work seamlessly together. Marla had conducted all of her negotiations through either Jonny or Emily thus far, but the luxury of avoidance wouldn’t be available to her in the morning. They’d have to work shoulder to shoulder if they were to give Dora the send off that she deserved, and by hook or by crook, Gabe intended to make Marla understand that he wasn’t that man from the newspaper article.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The next morning dawned, sprinkling a fairytale glitter of frost across the village. Lights and kettles were flicked on, and early morning cuppas were raised in silent salute to Dora. Wife, neighbour and friend.
At the funeral parlour, Gabe lingered before closing Dora’s casket for the last time. Death had stolen her beady vivaciousness and replaced it with a soft serenity; her precious yellow dress was tucked safely under her arm.
‘Sleep well, old girl,’ he murmured as he carefully sealed the lid. He laid his hand against the polished yew for a few seconds of silence before heading outside to check on Dan.
At the florist, Ruth and her two teenage daughters had been at work since five o’clock that morning to finish all of the floral tributes on order. They barely noticed that their fingers were red with exertion and the pricks of thorns as they chewed their lips and concentrated on the flowers. Down the lane, Ivan, who had been out with his secateurs since sunrise, laboured slowly up to the chapel with his arms full of delicately scented lemon wintersweet and fragile, yellow hellebores to decorate the altar. Marla chastised him gently as she made him a sweet cup of tea, then drove him home again and ironed his good shirt. Whilst she was gone, Emily moved the vases of white lilies she’d artfully arranged and replaced them with Ivan’s love tokens, her cheeks wet with tears.
Jonny unloaded beer and wine from Marla’s car into the chapel kitchen, where quiches, cakes and plates of sandwiches were overflowing every available surface. It was a testimony to Dora’s popularity that so many of the villagers had turned up at the back door that morning with food clutched in their hands.
‘Dora would have loved all this fuss, wouldn’t she?’ Emily said to Jonny as she came through to the kitchen with a newly delivered trifle in her arms. She balanced it on her bump as she hunted for space to set it down.
Jonny puffed out.
‘She’d have had this lot organised in five minutes flat.’ He glanced around the overloaded kitchen and started to line up glasses on a decorator’s table that he’d unearthed in Ivan’s shed.
‘I’ll tell you what else she’d have loved, as well.’ He swivelled around with one hand on his hip and a sparkle in his eye. ‘That little bitch over there getting what was coming to her.’
He’d taken great delight in relaying to Emily earlier the gossip Gabe had confided in him, particularly the part about how he’d then seen Melanie leave the funeral parlour in floods of tears.
‘I wonder how Gabe’s going to cope without her now though.’ Emily said, then frowned as Marla came through the open back door rubbing her hands together for warmth.
‘How who’s going to cope without who?’ Marla asked, unwinding her pale blue merino scarf from around her neck and glancing from Jonny to Emily.
‘Gabe. He’s given Melanie the boot,’ Jonny replied, practically shimmying with excitement.
Marla’s hand stilled at her throat. ‘Really? Why?’
Jonny revelled in the opportunity to tell his story all over again, and spared no details when describing how shocked Gabe had been when he’d found out about the note from the fireworks.
‘And then she came out, sobbing! Practically on her knees, begging him for her job back,’ he finished with a flourish. ‘Good riddance, I say.’
‘Well, I can’t say that I’ll miss her,’ Marla said, careful to keep her surprise from her voice. Gabe’s staffing issues were his own affair, but up till now he’d always seemed to be Melanie’s number one fan. It wasn’t that long since he’d given the girl flowers and taken her for fancy dinners, for god’s sake. But then, she didn’t know why was she even remotely surprised. It was entirely consistent with his behaviour to turn his affections on and off like a tap.
She glanced up at the kitchen clock.
‘Come on guys, we’d better get out front. People will