by Sarah Till
“No, she won’t, Ellis. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not allowed to feel hurt still by what she did. All the stunts she pulled, regardless of my feelings, sometimes in spite of them.”
Ellis grimaced.
“OK. I know it’s all still raw, but let’s not get carried away with recriminations. The aim is to find out who did this, not to fuel the fire between you and Steve. If he gets wind that you’ve been telling the police about him, you know what he’ll do?”
I nodded.
“Oh, yes. I know. And now’s not the time.”
I walked towards Ellis and he held out his arms.
“Jinny, Jinny. What am I going to do with you?”
He hugged me tightly and I smelt his musky chest.
“It’ll all be over soon. The funeral’s on Thursday and then we can get back to normal.”
We swayed together for a minute longer, then Ellis whispered in my ear.
“Speaking of normal, something very abnormal is happening tonight. We have a man of the cloth visiting our home!” His voice became deep and dramatic. “Hide the rams’ skulls and the pentangles, bring out the holy water and sprinkle forth!” We laughed for a moment. “Seriously, the vicar who’s going to do the funeral will be round later. There’s a message from him on the answerphone. I called him back.”
“Why’s he coming round here?”
Even to myself, the question sounded stupid and naive. Of course he was coming round to see me. I was the only child of the deceased. Ellis stared at me.
“Stating the obvious, Jinny, it’s probably about the hymns and suchlike. And I expect they will want you to say something.”
His mouth turned up slightly and I thought he was going to laugh. By now I was confused by all the ways I was expected to act in this situation and defaulted to miserable. Ellis was making me laugh now and I felt a near hysteria well up inside me.
“Say something at my mother’s funeral? Oh, my God! Can you imagine what I could say, and how it would be received?”
Ellis cracked a smile. He donned his holier-than-thou voice and a posh accent.
“We are gathered here today to remember the life of Sally Mason-Baxter. We have representatives from the local Oddbins wine shop, the wedding ring makers and Durex condoms, all here to mourn her passing and their downturn in profits in this financial year.” I howled with laughter as he paused for effect. “We also have her daughter Vagina here to say a few expletives about her mother. Unfortunately, her grandchildren Shiralee and Jupiter could not be here as they are camped outside her solicitor’s office waiting for their inheritance. However, we would like to welcome a delegation of male mourners from Liars Anonymous who are all busy right now denying any knowledge of Mrs Mason-Baxter.”
I laughed long and loud and suddenly a stray tear dripped onto my cheek. I felt the velveteen drop spread across the surface of my skin and for a moment hoped for the torrent of grief to begin. When no further tears materialised, I felt guilty for laughing but couldn’t stop because Ellis was now doing an impression of Prince Charles talking about his affair with my mother. Suddenly, the doorbell rung, and Ellis and I froze. We looked at each other in alarm, as if we had been caught committing a crime, and then I asked the obvious again.
“Who is it?”
I always asked who it was before we opened the door. Or even approached the door. It was a throwback from the loan shark and gangster days when I had panicked every time anyone came within one hundred yards of our front gate. We bobbed around like Meercats on alert for a minute or so, then Ellis went to answer the door. I composed myself and listened at the lounge door. I was just in time to hear Ellis use his bonhomie voice.
“Ah, Vicar, how nice to see you after our little chat on the telephone.”
Ellis’ bonhomie voice made him sound and look like Robin Williams, and I could see that he meant to stay in role. The vicar from my mother’s local church, Reverend Ted Sloan, strode into the lounge followed by a bumbling Ellis. Reverend Sloan held out his hand and pushed a sympathetic face up to mine.
“Virginia, I’m so sorry. Terrible business.”
I smiled weakly and gestured for everyone to sit.
“It’s very nice of you to come and see me, Reverend.”
I had met Reverend Sloan a couple of times before I became estranged from my mother and the village. He seemed a decent enough chap and I knew that he had been quite close to my mother, and they often debated parish funding issues. I saw his eyes were looking a little teary and felt a glint of sympathy for him.
“Terrible business, Virginia,” he repeated, shaking his head, “I just left poor John at the cottage. The poor man’s heartbroken. Talking about having a village memorial put up for her. He tells me that you are allowing him to stay on at the cottage. Obviously, I counselled them on a prenuptial agreement. I advised against it as they’re not strictly admissible in court, but your mother wouldn’t hear of it. Protecting your interests, Virginia. Protecting your interests.”
“So, they got married in church, then?”
I heard myself ask this question as if it was hovering on the edge of my inquisitive consciousness, waiting for an escape. Ellis anticipated the reason and settled himself into his chair, ready for my onslaught. Reverend Sloan took the bait like a huge hungry brown trout.
“Yes, Virginia. In church. In the eyes of God. Your mother was a deeply spiritual woman, you know. Deeply spiritual. A civil ceremony wouldn’t have done at all for her.”
I toyed with a journey down the Swiss Steve infidelity route but decided against it mainly for Ellis’ sake. Another turnoff presented itself and I steered carefully and deliberately.
“Oh, right. So even though she had been married in church before, she was married again in church?”
“Well, Virginia, your father passed away, didn’t he? Well before John appeared on the scene?”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
I waited for an opportune moment to pull over.
“So, it was entirely in order that your mother and John should marry in God’s house. Of course, I had to get dispensation from the bishop, but I gave Sally a glowing character reference.”
I nodded, smiled and took my foot off the gas.
“Hmmm. So, as she was a God-fearing woman, my mother will be in heaven now?”
Reverend Sloan smiled serenely.
“Yes, Virginia. You can take comfort in that. She will be in heaven.”
“With my father?”
I donned my puppy dog eyes and droopy mouth, but Reverend Sloan became wary.
“Well, I suppose so.”
“They were married in the eyes of God. It wasn’t his fault he died so....”
“Yes, Virginia. Well, if that’s what would happen in your mother’s heaven then it will be.”
I looked puzzled on purpose.
“But what will happen then when her current husband dies? Surely, she won’t desert Dad to be with him. What if he wants Mum but she’s with Dad?”
Ellis tried not to smile as I cocked my head to one side. Reverend Sloan sighed.
“Look, Virginia, everyone’s idea of heaven is personal to them. Whatever your mother’s idea of heaven is, will be there. So, if she wants your father to be there, he will be. If she wants John Baxter to be there, he will be.”
I persisted.
“So, when I die, presuming I didn’t do anything bad enough not to go to heaven, and all the people we just spoke about didn’t do anything such as slowly killing someone or suchlike, if I chose to have them all in my heaven, they would all be there? They wouldn’t have any choice, even if they hated each other?”
Reverend Sloan reddened slightly.
“God will decide.”
He spoke forcefully and deliberately, and his tone made it clear that he wanted no reply to this statement. I smiled.
“OK.”
He began to shuffle some papers and produced a cream sheet with an order of service printed on it.
�
�John and I put this together. We were hoping that you would choose an appropriate hymn or reading or perhaps say a few words.”
He glared at me, urging me to hurry up so he could escape. I took the sheet he offered and sat back deeply in my chair, studying it. It was a short service, with two readings, one from John Baxter and one presumably from me. I trawled my memory for hymn, perhaps one that my mother had taught me, or maybe I had learned at school. The truth was that from the age of sixteen I had never set foot inside a church except for weddings or funerals. Reverend Sloan had not managed to convince me as to who my mother would be married to in his version of heaven. He had relied on what I considered to be a cross between a cliché and apportionment of blame onto another party, in this case God, so I found it hard to take him seriously. I scanned my recent TV past and located a hymn that I had encountered when I had mistakenly switched on ‘Songs of Praise’ one Sunday evening.
“When I Survey the Wondrous Cross.”
Reverend Sloan looked suddenly delighted, as if I had relapsed into a life of Christianity after all.
“Wonderful, Virginia. Wonderful. He snatched the order of service from me and scribbled the hymn in the gap. “So, will you be saying anything?”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
I queried this on purpose, to gauge his reaction.
“Erm, well, of course, if it will be appropriate, then of course. But if you feel that your grief will overcome you and well, let’s say, contort your meaning into something less than gracious, then I would consider not.”
The Reverend looked at his shoes and pursed his lips. I heard a bell in my head and a voice signalling Round Two. So far, Reverend Sloan had managed to not allude to the final argument he had witnessed between me and my mother. I wondered if he had forgotten or not taken it seriously, but now it became clear that he feared I would resurrect it at my mother’s funeral.
“Not then.”
I stated it simply and plainly.
“Virginia, dear, there’s no point carrying on with this now. It’s over. She’s gone.”
Reverend Sloan’s pleading eyes moved closer as he leaned forward. I stiffened and sighed.
“I’ll decide when it’s over for me.”
“What about forgiveness?”
“It takes two to tango. She was in the wrong and she never contacted me. She never apologised. I had to do all the work. She sent me a curt letter about the arrangement for her funeral. That was all. I wanted to believe that it was all a mistake and that she was sorry, for my dad, for Steve, for lying to me. But she didn’t and it wasn’t a mistake. You heard her, she told me she didn’t like me, that she didn’t care what I felt, if I had been hurt, that I had brought it on myself for being so stupid. It was a dog eat dog world. How can you hold her so highly after you heard her say that to me, her own daughter? You were there, you heard her.”
Reverend Sloan looked serious and thought for a moment.
“What happened between you and your mother is your business. All I know is that she was a very pleasant woman, a personal friend. We were very, very close, and she meant a lot to me.”
His eyes filled up and Ellis looked at me in disbelief.
“Look, Ted, I’ve tried to keep this as formal as possible,” I hurried with my statement as I needed to get him out of the house before I exploded, “but I’m not backing down. I could forgive her if she had made some kind of move to contact me, even through the children.”
Reverend Sloan perked up a little.
“But she left you her house?”
“Yes, a house that she knew I couldn’t bear to go back to because of all the unpleasantness she inflicted on my father there. Even now she’s having the last laugh.”
His face told me that had gone too far.
“Being stabbed to death is hardly having the last laugh, Virginia. I understand she was poisoned, then stabbed. Poor woman. Who could hate her enough to do that to her?”
His eyes looked accusingly at me as he walked towards the door. Ellis jumped up and directed him out. He turned on the doorstep.
“Well, Virginia, I’ll no doubt see you on Thursday. I hope we can avoid the same debacle as the proceedings at your father’s funeral. And before you damn anyone too much, dear, just remember that you have been married too, and now reside with another man. So, you too have the same heavenly conundrum that you bestow on your poor dead mother.”
I folded my arms and grinned.
“Yes, I can see what you mean, but I’m not married to Ellis in the eyes of God, am I? So Technically, according to your version, I would end up with Swiss Steve. Except it wouldn’t apply to him, would it? He’d be going to hell because he killed someone and shagged my mother while we were still married.”
Ellis tightened his grip around my shoulder and interrupted.
“Allegedly.”
Reverend Sloan walked away towards the station, not bothering to look back.
Ellis turned to me.
“Two ‘mum shagging Swiss Steve’s’ in one day, Jinny. You’re excelling yourself. He’ll find out, you know. Anyway, I’m more interested in what she’s been up to with the Vicar. Won’t have a word said against her.”
I nodded.
“Yes. She has that effect on men. I bet she gave him that Princess Diana look.”
Ellis looked at me.
“Had, Jinny. Had. Not anymore.”
I nodded and went inside.
I was about to busy myself around the house when Ellis caught hold of my arm and guided me to the sofa. I sensed that he was going to read me the riot act after my run-ins with both the police and the vicar, and I readied myself. I saw him breathe in, ready for the onslaught.
“You know, Jinny, there was no need for that. All that over Steve with the police bloke then attacking the vicar. I know it’s upsetting but you need to rein it in. I feel like you’re pushing me out, just nodding when we agree something then doing the opposite.”
I sighed. Ellis and I didn’t argue, we discussed. I could feel a loud discussion brewing.
“So, what am I supposed to do? Compromise my beliefs just so that they can all be happy? Stand at my mother’s funeral and lie nice things about her? I’ll leave that to all her adoring men-friends. I just can’t stand it. All that sanctimonious stuff. You know what I think, El, and I’m not pretending so that someone else can feel comfortable.”
Ellis nodded.
“OK. I see what you mean, I just worry that you’re working yourself up about something that will upset you more in the long run.”
“I don’t ever intend to see Ted Sloan after the funeral, so why would what he thinks matter to me? In a lot of ways this is closure for me, I never have to go back to that house after this. I never have to go back to that bloody village. I can focus more on my life here without that ever being in the background. I’m not changing my beliefs every time someone who thinks something else walks through my front door.”
Ellis looked down and his voice grew louder.
“Why did you bring it up then? Why didn’t you just say nothing?”
“It was like a red rag to a bull, El, asking me to choose hymns and speak. It was like he was telling me what to believe, telling me I had to fit in, be like them, do the church thing, and I don’t want to. Why do I have to?”
I was feeling like I would cry and Ellis persisted.
“Because your mother wanted it like this, I guess.”
“Exactly. She wanted it like this.”
Ellis snorted in disbelief.
“Come on, Jinny, surely you’re not suggesting that she arranged her funeral in a church to spite you? Millions of people have their funerals in church. It’s the norm.”
“No, I’m not suggesting that. Of course she wants her bloody funeral in a church with her being such a God-fearing woman.” I took a break to express my sarcasm facially with a tight grin. “I’m just saying that it highlights how different we are. Were. What difference does it make anyway?
Ted Sloan won’t bloody care. Jupiter and Shiralee will already expect it. That John flaming Baxter will be holy enough for all of us by the looks of it.”
I was swallowing back tears now and Ellis carried on.
“Couldn’t you just ease off, just for one day? Can’t you put your personal feeling aside just for one day and be a bigger person, Jinny? Take the high road? Just for once keep your mouth shut?”
The tears subsided and I slumped in the chair sulkily.
“I suppose so. I’ll just not say anything. Put my non-bloody religious views on one side. I’m going to have to anyway. I’ve got this project at work.”
The atmosphere in the room changed immediately and Ellis relaxed. This was more like our usual conversation, where we talked about work and our future. Whilst I had the organisational skills and foresight of a world leader when it came to business, Ellis was the creative side of me that I had never nurtured. Just as I did his accounts and filed his receipts for his artwork, he provided me with the aesthetics of the projects I designed. He responded quickly before I could retract my previous promise of a non-argumentative funeral.
“What project’s that then?”
“Oh, I have to design a prayer project. It’s sort of a way to big-up to power of prayer with gimmicks.”
Ellis laughed.
“You’re kidding. Why did you get it? Surely, Ted Brierly knows what a hard-nosed bitch you are? No offence!”
“I gave the best pitch. Actually, I didn’t think of what it would involve. I just wanted to win.”
“No change there, then?”
“Hmm. So, now it looks like I’ll have to bloody find out what it’s all about. Maybe I’ll ask Reverend Sloan to give me a few pointers. Thing is El, I just don’t understand how people could fall for it. It’s just a big con. I know it’s all about fear and dependence, but why do they do it?”
