They are all going to come over for the funeral and I promise to give her a date as soon as the coroner and funeral director advise. It could be anything from a matter of days to weeks.
There is a family burial plot in the local churchyard and that’s where Dad will be buried with Mum. It was his wish and the thought of a ground burial has us both crying again. Allowing the pain to resurface of losing Mum all those years ago.
~~~~~
The funeral procession leaves from my house. The hearse carrying our father leading, and us following in a limousine behind. It’s painful and not our way, but it’s the done thing and for old family friends the expected ritual for their final farewell.
The vicar leads our little gathering on foot from the chapel of rest to the burial plot. The dreaded moment of the casket being lowered into the plot alongside Mum’s, requires a fortifying squeeze of the hand from Poppy. I daren’t look at her at all throughout the ceremony, although I hear her quiet sobbing. It’s all I really hear, the vicar’s words float off somewhere and everyone else is silent.
The thud of dirt hitting the casket awakens me from my self-induced meditative state and I follow Poppy’s lead in reaching for a handful to do the same.
It’s not until I raise my head at the end of the ceremony do I see Kane standing respectfully dressed at the side of the small crowd. He is with his aunt and uncle and is staring at me, nodding with his eyes when mine meet his.
Poppy and I walk off arm in arm, Sky carries Lily and we go back towards the car.
We’ve left an open invitation for anyone who wishes to join us at the Golden Fleece for a buffet and drink to celebrate Dad’s life. I’ve no idea who might or might not turn up, but hope Kane does.
They’ve reserved the side room, with the French doors that open out onto the patio, for the funeral goers. A finger buffet is already laid out on plates covered with cellophane along the back wall.
The little bar area has two young bartenders eagerly waiting for orders, obviously not sure what the etiquette is with regards to greeting customers who have just attended a funeral.
I am the first to approach and alleviate their nervousness by ordering a large whiskey to toast Dad with. He wasn’t a big drinker but I know he would have joined me on such an occasion.
We’ve brought the photo albums that Dad had at the care home for people to look through and chat about memories over.
There is a steady stream in through the door, most I recognise but some I don’t. All seem to have a story or two to tell Poppy and I, about encounters with the pair of us as young girls. Photos that they would point at and explain to us the occasion or where they were taken.
It was nice to catch up with them all, but all the time I keep an eye on the door, waiting for Kane to enter.
His uncle is the first to appear and then his aunt and my heart sinks when the door appears to close behind them. Then I see his hand flat against the heavy oak door, stopping it from closing. He slowly pushes it wide and steps in from the light.
I don’t know who was talking to me at the time or what was being said, because all I register is my whole body tingling.
I want to have Kane by my side right now.
I want to throw my face into his chest and let it all out.
He looks through the crowd to me, neither of us expressing any emotion in our faces, but I know if I walk across to him and take his hand he would have no hesitation in following me out of the door.
My gaze is held by him, as he strides across the room to me. He places a hand on my lower back, leans in and brushes a soft kiss onto my cheek.
“Sorry Rosa,” he whispers into my ear.
The apology is equivocal, or so I hope.
I hold the demeanour my tight black pencil skirt and high collared blouse give me and thank him.
Poppy introduces Sky to him and he returns the gesture with his aunt and uncle. They all exchange pleasantries, giving me time to study his face and his words and to determine the underlying premise of him being here.
The moment presents itself, a lull in the requirement for his participation in the conversation and he leans back in to me.
“Could you spare me a minute, Rosa?”
My eyes flash up to his.
“Please, Rosa.”
I nod and follow him to the French doors. He carries on to the far end of the patio and through the gate to the car park; away from any eavesdroppers.
He turns to me.“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you, Rosa.”
This isn’t what I expect to hear him say and I am flummoxed by it.
“I… I…” I can only shake my head.
He reaches down and takes both of my hands in each one of his.
“I should have been here for you and I’m sorry I wasn’t.”
“No.” I shake my head again, but he continues as if there is more he needs to say before I’m expected to respond.
“I’ve tried many times to think of the right words to explain my reaction in Oxford and I’m still not sure this is going to come out quite how I want it to. So please bear with me.”
He sucks in a deep breath and then burrows his slate grey eyes into my soul.
I find it a little overpowering, but as desperate as I am to find relief in averting my gaze.
I can’t.
I’m hooked.
As I knew I would be.
“Rosa, I have only ever loved one woman and she was torn away from me in a way that was cruel and ugly. It scarred me, watching her die. I’ve tried exorcising those haunting images by dedicating my whole life to research and I thought that would be the only point to my life. But now I have a new ikigai.”
His eyes have grown darker, in a way that slate does when rain falls on it.
“You,” he breathes out.
Everything is still as he waits for my reaction. And I give him the only response that feels true. My lips on his.
Our foreheads linger against each other’s, exchanging breath until I feel light headed.
“I think we have a lot to talk through, Kane. We have to be sure about this because I’m not sure either of us are strong enough yet to take a step in the wrong direction.”
He nods.
“Are you staying up here tonight? Do you want to come over to mine?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve got to stay here a while longer, so how about seven-ish. I’ll suggest to Poppy and Sky that they have dinner out somewhere, so we have the house to ourselves.”
He places a soft kiss on my mouth, our lips throbbing against each other’s, wanting more.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rosa
I hear the distinctive noise of his Land Rover well before the gate buzzes asking for entrance. Poppy and Sky are waiting for a taxi to take them to town and Lily is already asleep in her travel cot.
Poppy is dying to get involved in a conversation with Kane, hoping to influence his future behaviour toward me, in the way only a sister would.
I’m pleased that Sky warns her, in no uncertain terms, that it is necessary to stay out of the conversation and she would only serve to do more harm than good. Despite his warnings, I would have preferred for them to have left already.
When Kane joins us, the conversation is light and without incident, although it doesn’t stop me from repeatedly looking at my watch and cursing the taxi driver for his tardiness.
When they finally leave the air between us is tense and awkward.
“Shall we go into the garden?” I ask, “I will still be able to hear Lily from there, as she’s asleep in the back bedroom.”
He nods and follows me silently outside.
I start commenting on the quantity of sweet peas that are colouring the trellis against the garage and the size of the lavender bushes that we have to brush against as we walk towards the seat. But it is obviously not a commentary he wants to listen to any longer, or occupy his mind with, as he pulls on my arm and reels me into his side.
&nbs
p; His hands push up through my hair to the back of my head and he presses his lips forcefully against mine. His other hand is in the small of my back moulding my body to his.
It’s as if the lack of kissing in the last few weeks needs to be rectified in that one osculation.
When I am finally released I have to gasp to restore the oxygen into my blood stream and he rests his head against mine.
“Rosa.” His sweet breath whispering across my lips. “I love you.”
~~~~~~
It’s not appropriate to rip each other’s clothes off and make love whilst your niece is asleep in the next room. Nor is it appropriate to risk being caught in the act by your sister and brother in law.
But we are Kane and Rosa.
It’s what we do.
For once we do manage to keep track of time and are respectably clothed and perched on the edge of the sofa when Poppy and Sky return, but that’s not to say the past two hours aren’t evident on our faces. The glow to my cheeks is clue enough and Poppy gives me a knowing elbow in the ribs when we escape to the kitchen to make coffee.
“So, you forgave him then?” she chirps.
“Maybe.”
She snorts, piling scoop after scoop of coffee beans into the chute.
“That’s enough.” I hold my hand over the top to stop her from over filling it.
“What’s the score then?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow Poppy.”
I don’t want to go into the detail with Kane around. As much as it will irk her, she’ll have to wait to get the lowdown.
We go back into the living room with the coffee and some chocolates and listen to the guys animatedly talk about boxing. The greats, the classics, the wide boys and the outside bets.
They have obviously hit it off and it is not without relief. I always wanted my significant other to get on with Poppy and Sky. All pulling in the same direction and without any tension.
So even when my sister childishly asks “So, what have you two been up to while we were out?” Kane’s wink and huge smile does nothing to stifle the air.
The following morning Kane and I leave Poppy and Sky in the house on their own and we venture out of the back gate and into the countryside.
When we’ve passed through the neighbouring fields and are out towards the east of the village, we stop at the side of the stream that flows down into the canal that dissects the town.
The heat is verging on oppressive today and the mid-August weather has turned the horizon into a waving mass of golden wheat contrasting against bright blue skies.
Kane takes off his shoes, rolls up his jeans and walks into the stream.
“Nice?” I ask reservedly.
“Yeah it’s lovely.”
I follow suit and plunge my feet in. Screaming the second my nerve endings register how cold it actually is, scrambling painfully across the stony river base to the grassy bank.
He laughs at me.
“You lying pig.” Clutching my icy cold toes in my fists in an effort to warm them up.
He wades back to me and hauls himself up onto the side, laying on his back. His foot is prone and I decide to ask about the tattoo I can see clearly scripted on his sole.
“When did you get the tattoo?”
He rolls onto his side, elevating his head with his elbow, picking at random blades of grass.
“About a year after she died. I worried that I wasn’t thinking about her enough, that my memory of her was starting to fade.”
“And did it help?”
“No, not really. Nothing was ever going to bring her back and my mind was just doing the natural thing of replacing old memories with new ones.”
“So how do you feel about her now?”
“I’ll never be over her.” He locks onto my stare. “But I am ready to move on.” He pushes upright and cups my cheek with his hand. “With you.”
I kiss his open palm and he rubs his thumb over my lips.
“How about you, Rosa?”
“The same. I’m ready to move on too.” And mirror his add. “With you.”
“Good and I promise I won’t react in the way I did in Oxford, ever again.”
“That’s a shame.” I turn the corners of my lips down.
“Why?” He quickly asks.
“Because I quite liked the way you ravished me outside in your garden.”
The smile starts in his eyes and gradually works its way through the muscles of his face.
“I have no problem repeating that right now.”
Before I can react, he has pushed me back on to the grass and is tugging at the buttons on my shorts.
“Stop.” I writhe my legs, in an attempt to halt him from taking hold. “It’s the middle of the day, anyone could walk by.”
“Nope. You’ve said it now. Your wish is my command.” Tickling me into submission.
Fortunately, there are no passerby’s, not that I notice anyhow. Being lost in the act, there could have been a whole coach full and I wouldn’t have known.
It seems as if our walk has been curtailed and, after putting our clothes back on, we lay for a while on the grass looking up at the wispy clouds, the sounds of summer in full chorus.
“Do you think I should have the tattoo removed?”
“No.” I fire back at him, snapping my head to look him squarely in the eye. “What makes you say that?”
“Just didn’t want it to annoy you. Or remind you of my past.”
“No, not all, you put it there for a reason and I think it was rather clever of you to put it in a place that you and others don’t often see. Somewhere you can look if you want to, but aren’t reminded of constantly. However… I was thinking of getting a tattoo done myself.”
“Really? What are you going to do? Have ‘Charles’ put on your foot? Or what was that thing you said he used to do that irritated the hell out of you? Cxxx?”
I slap his chest. “Of course not. I’d rather put a hot poker into my eye. No, I was thinking more of a flower. Something tasteful.”
“Mmm.” He starts tracing his index finger across my stomach. “And where would you have this tattoo?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere that it doesn’t hurt so much.”
“Well not the bottom of your foot. I can vouch that it’s pretty painful there.”
“How about here.” He kisses my stomach. “Or here.” He pushes my top up with his nose and kisses the side of my breast. “Or here.” And kisses the other side.
“Kane.” I arch my back and half moan, half whine. “Stop. Stop doing this to me.”
“Doing what?” He looks up with innocent eyes. “I’m not doing anything.”
I look back with a questioning frown.
He rolls onto his back. “So why do you want a tattoo anyway?”
“Because it feels like something I need to do, a break from the old Rosa.”
“Okay, and will I still like this new Rosa?”
“Yes, it is the same one you know. You didn’t know me when I was married to Charles, it was all about the material stuff and the impression people had of us. I don’t think you would have liked that Rosa. That’s the one I’m breaking away from.”
“I’m sure you weren’t that different. Just caught up in it all.”
“Maybe. I wasn’t aware it was even happening until recently. When he left me without any disposable income, I was forced to think about what I really needed and what I didn’t. And then Poppy and her ideals on life and then… you.”
“What did I do to help you with this reformation?”
I rest up on my elbow and gaze into those sultry slate eyes.
Mine misting up at the thought of what Kane has done to help me.
This beautiful, beautiful man.
“You’ve shown me what life should be about. You’ve shown me love.”
The corners of his mouth turn up.
“I’m glad Rosa, because you are easy to love.”
I lean over him and kiss him slowly, lettin
g all the words I cannot express without ruining the moment with sobs and tears, speak to him silently.
It’s not a sexually charged kiss or a kiss to placate a weary and sad soul.
It’s a kiss that gives the whole of me to him. Every ounce of my being.
When we break there is a knowing between us, that we are in love.
We’ve moved on from the passion and longing, although I’m sure that will still be there for quite a while yet, to a deeper more open recognition of the energy between us.
I am starting to know what he is thinking; judge what he wants; sense what he is feeling.
I love him.
There is no going back now. If we stop seeing each other now, it is going to hurt. And I don’t want to be hurt and neither does he.
This isn’t just about the stars anymore, they are well and truly tethered to the galaxy that we are now living in.
It’s all about the love.
I don’t want this moment to end. This morning of simply being, is where I want my life to flourish.
My life with Kane.
My love.
He must feel the same.
I know he feels the same.
We lay and stroke each other and kiss.
Kane eventually breaks the silence. “So where are you with all of this divorce shit, anyway?”
“Well it’s still nowhere near being finalised and he is prolonging it by being quite difficult.”
“Why don’t you just give him what he wants?”
“What?”
“Just give him what he wants and let him get on with it. It’s him that’s got to live with himself afterwards.”
Kane lets the words sink in before continuing.
“You can get all screwed up and bitter by this sort of stuff and sometimes it’s just better to let things go.”
I know what he means and I agree entirely. The only thing is Charles wants me. And that’s not going to happen, but he has got a point about the other stuff and I do need to get Charles out of my life.
“I think you might be right. I think I’ve been holding back on fighting anymore because I’m not sure I’ll feel good if I take everything and he’s left with nothing. I want to walk away with my head held high and with my integrity intact.”
Into the Light Page 18
