‘You’ve been in a bad mood all day. Don’t deny it. Is it Paul?’
‘Yeah, Paul is part of it of course. Part of me cannot wait to see him, to get some answers. But the other part of me, the bigger part, is scared. I don’t think I’m going to like what I hear. But I’ve booked my ticket, I’m going on Tuesday. Rita is going to stay in my house for the night and take care of the kids. If we didn’t have this funeral to go to, I’d be on a flight already. But there’s something else that’s making me worried. I had another dream last night. I dreamt of Rachel. It’s freaking me out.’
‘Now why on earth would dreaming of a dead woman freak you out? I just don’t get it.’ James responded sarcastically. ‘Of course it is! You should have told me sooner. Was she dead in your dream, talking to you from the grave? Or I suppose she’d be talking to you from the coffin in this case, as she’s not in a grave yet, technically.’
Sarah threw her brother a withering look. ‘No, she wasn’t dead. There were no spooky ghosts talking to me from coffins or graves, so sorry to disappoint you!’
‘Ah, that’s too bad.’ James replied with a wink. ‘Come on, we have to keep a sense of humour here or we’ll not get through this, sis. Ok?’ Waiting for Sarah to nod in agreement, he then continued. ‘Well then, spill. What did you dream?’
Sarah took a deep breath. ‘Rachel was very much alive. She was on a date, out for dinner with someone and she was flirting with him. She was just a young beautiful girl having a date with a guy, laughing, joking, telling stories, falling in love.’
‘Who was the guy?’ James asked. ‘Did you recognise him?’
‘Don’t know. She didn’t say his name at all in my dream. I’ve been going over and over it all in my head trying to piece together some clues. Mary said that I have to be a dream detective, try to collate as much information as I can so that I can decipher them.’
‘Ok, what did you come up with?’ James asked with interest.
‘Well, that’s the frustrating bit. When I dreamt about Joey, I was able to retrace each part and I managed to work out whether it was in the past or the future.’
‘Backtrack! When you dreamt about Joey your postman? What dream?’
Sarah felt guilty. She should have told James about Joey sooner. ‘I’m sorry, it’s just so much was going on about Paul and this murder. Well I thought that I’d off loaded on you enough and I wasn’t sure how much more you’d want to take.’
She quickly filled him in on her dream.
‘As of this morning, when I texted him to say hello, all was fine with him and Benji. I don’t know if it’s going to stay that way, Mary said that we can’t always change our fates. But he didn’t get run over yesterday.’
‘Fecks’ sake. To think that poor old Joey wanted to commit suicide. He’s a nice guy, he seemed so normal, didn’t seem the type when I met him yesterday.’
‘But what is the type? That’s the whole point with suicide; no one usually sees it coming till it’s too late. He isn’t suicidal right now, I’m pretty sure, but I could be wrong of course.’ Sarah finished. She sighed and felt guilty again.
‘I understand now why you were so adamant that Benji wore a lead for that walk we went on. I thought it was strange you buying a present for the dog; meant to ask you about that.’
‘I couldn’t think what else to do. It was the best I could come up with and I didn’t want to take any chances.’ Sarah admitted.
‘You are full of surprises, sis. I might give old Joey a call myself next week and ask him does he want a pint some night. Do you think he might like that?’
‘I think he’d like that very much.’ Sarah smiled her gratitude.
‘I keep telling you, I’m a pretty good guy you know! Now back to dream no. 2. You said that with Joey’s dream you could work out the timing of it based on the newspaper. Were there any clues like that in your dream last night?’
‘No, there were none at all. I mean obviously the dream is in the past, because Rachel is dead. But it was at night in the restaurant, so no clues about the weather. There was nothing in the décor of the restaurant that shows me either where it is or when it was. It was a bistro, I think. But not one I recognise. I mean it could have been anywhere. I do remember that there were some really pretty lights in the room, big chandeliers.’ Sarah was getting annoyed again. She wished she could remember more about it all.
‘Ok try to relax. No point getting all agitated. What did this guy look like?’ James said to her.
‘He was in his thirties, our age I suppose. Don’t know what height because he was sitting, but he looked tall enough, seemed to have long legs. He had dark hair and brown eyes. He looked almost foreign, but I’m pretty sure he was Irish. He did have an accent, local I think. Oh, and I noticed too that his hands were calloused. They looked like he worked at hard labour kind of thing. I don’t think he works in an office.’ Sarah looked a bit sheepish. ‘Not a lot to go on is there?’
‘I’d say that’s a lot to start with. But we have to remember that we don’t even know if it’s relevant or not, Sarah. You might have dreamed about some random date that Rachel was on. She was 24 and, as you said a good looking girl, one would imagine she probably had loads of dates.’
‘That’s true. I know I haven’t got much detail, but there is one thing I am certain about. This guy killed her. I just know it. When I was with Joey last week I could feel his loneliness coming out of him in waves. It was the same thing last night in my dream. I got a huge feeling of foreboding when this guy stroked Rachel’s hand on the table. I was terrified and woke up sobbing. He murdered her, I’m sure of it, and I think he might be going to do it again. I had a dream last week and I’m sure it was him in it. He was looking at a woman, I couldn’t see her face, but there was such hatred, I’m sure of it.’ Sarah sounded very tearful.
‘It’s ok, sis, if you say it was him, then it was him. We’ll go to the house. We’ll pay our respects and see if you pick up anything else. I was chatting to my mate in the Gardaí last night. She didn’t have a long-term boyfriend or not that they’ve uncovered so far. They’ve interviewed all her family and any friends and colleagues that were in her life and they all say the same thing, she wasn’t dating. Reading between the lines with what he didn’t say rather than what he did say, they have no real leads at the minute and no real forensics either. It sounds like they are struggling big time. Whoever did this to Rachel covered their tracks pretty well. But at least we now know it was a male and someone that Rachel knew. That’s a good start.’
‘There was only one other thing in my dream that didn’t make sense. Rachel’s hair was brown. She had blonde hair though, always had whenever I met her at the school gates. That was a bit strange. Oh I don’t know, maybe it was just my over-active imagination.’
James thought that the whole thing was a bit strange but decided to keep his mouth shut. They had arrived at the Finch’s house. Taking a deep breath they both walked up to the front door. The place was heaving with people. There was about thirty or so men in the front garden chatting and smoking.
‘Joe and Maureen, Rachel’s parents are in the wake room right now. That’s the good sitting room at the end of the hall on the right. Go down and pay your respects then come into the dining room. Tea and sandwiches will be waiting for you.’ They were ushered in by a woman with sergeant like precision. Sarah felt the urge to salute in response, but instead walked quickly up the hall behind James who had scuttled off quickly, almost genuflecting as he left.
He gave her hand a tight squeeze before they walked in. Sarah steeled herself for the worst; she’d had nightmares that Rachel might jump up from the coffin to have a chat. She’d only just about gotten used to Edward turning up; talking to the dead might just be a bridge too far.
‘Don’t worry, I’m right beside you.’ Sarah heard a whisper and there was Edward standing right behind her.
Taking a deep breath, grateful for both James and Edward by her side, Sarah walked in.
>
The coffin was in the centre of the room. It was a beautiful oak casket with heavy ornate handles. No open coffin. She looked around the room. There were chairs lining either side of the coffin and there were about twenty people in the room. She recognised over half of them, a couple of the mams from the school gates among them. She walked up to Joe and Maureen and knelt in front of them.
‘I’m so terribly sorry for your loss,’ she murmured. How trite those words sounded. Her mind flew to her own children, but she couldn’t stay there for a second to even contemplate losing one of them.
Rachel’s mother was quietly weeping, holding her hands over her mouth as if to stifle the sobs. Her husband nodded his thanks.
Somebody stood up from a seat and offered it to Sarah saying they were leaving. This was the way it always was with Irish wakes, a tradition that was heavily ingrained in Irish culture. It was simply the way mourners sent off their dead and said their goodbyes. They watched over their loved one, from the time of death to their burial, never leaving the dead on their own. This tradition was beginning to wane in cities as more and more people used funeral parlours, but in the country it was still active. Through the night during the wake there must always be someone who sits with the deceased. More often than not, the mourners will have a drink or two and tell stories of their loved one and this tradition played a huge part in the grieving process for those left behind.
Sarah looked around the room at the faces of the people there. All looking shocked and stricken at the heart-wrenching sight of Rachel’ parents who were broken in their loss. They knew the unwritten rules to waking too. Neighbours would arrive beforehand laden down with food. There would be home cooked hams for the sandwiches and salads. Several would make steaming hot Apple and Rhubarb Tarts and pies for the tea. Sarah herself had dropped up cupcakes to the house earlier that morning for her contribution to the proceedings. Chairs would appear as if from thin air if needed, to accommodate the large numbers of mourners who were to turn up. A rota would be set up between the neighbours to ensure that somebody would be there always to take care of the teas and coffees and washing up. At no point would the family of the deceased have to worry about the particular burden of coping with the large groups of mourners who would trickle in and out of the house during the wake. Sarah knew that living in a small village like this was very special. Neighbours and friends were so good and all just wanted to help in any way they could.
Before Sarah took her seat, she stepped over to the top of the casket and laid her hand on the top. A picture of Rachel had been placed there. She looked beautiful and carefree in that picture; her blonde hair blowing gently as the picture had been snapped. She turned to her parents and said, ‘Rachel was such a beautiful girl.’
‘We had to have a closed coffin.’ Rachel’s mother sobbed. ‘Her poor face you see. It was, it was so….’ She finished on a sob, unable to complete the sentence.
Sarah felt tears running down her cheeks, she quickly brushed them away.
‘It’s unbearable for you both. I’m so terribly sorry.’ She finished and took her seat to say her prayers.
‘She was pretty wasn’t she?’ Rachel’s mother looked wistfully at the picture on the casket.
Murmurs of agreement came from everyone in the room.
‘She took after you, love.’ Joe said to his wife. ‘Just like you were the day we got married in that picture.’ He started to sob, but Sarah could see him visibly pull himself together and stop the tears.
‘She’ll never get married now though, will she?’
It truly was heart-breaking watching Rachel’s parents go through this. Sarah looked at James and knew immediately that they were both thinking the exact same thing – they were going to get the guy who did this to Rachel and her family, no matter what it took.
‘Didn’t like that bloody brown hair though!’ Joe said gruffly all of a sudden.
Sarah looked up quickly catching James’s eye as she did.
‘Brown hair?’ Sarah asked him.
‘She came home two weeks ago with a new hairdo! She took a fancy out of the blue. It made her feel more sophisticated she told us. I didn’t like it at all. She had lovely hair, no need to change it.’ Joe answered
‘That’s girls for you.’ Someone murmured.
Another neighbour walked in, standing awkwardly at the door of the room. Sarah took the opportunity to leave the room, offering her seat. She excused herself, signalling James to follow her. Rachel had dyed her hair brown only two weeks ago!
‘Well, we know that your dream was at some time in the past two weeks then.’ James said quickly, looking at his sister with a slight look of wonder on his face. The details kept proving to be correct; he wondered did Sarah have any idea at all how powerful her gift truly could be? He felt in awe of his sister all of a sudden. They had both been slightly blasé about the whole psychic issue, but this was sobering stuff.
‘So she was dating, after all. Come on, let’s grab a cuppa and see if anyone knows if she had a new fella or not.’
They walked into the dining room and were ushered to sit at the end of a large folding table. A plate of sandwiches and apple tart was put in front of them each and a large silver catering pot of tea was produced, and poured into two mugs. They both murmured their thanks.
‘It’s going to kill those two you know. Their only child being ripped from them like that is just plain wrong.’ a voice from the end of the table said.
Sarah and James agreed.
‘I don’t know how you get over something like this.’ Sarah replied. She shuddered again at the mere thought that something should happen to her children.
Sarah closed her eyes and prayed quickly to God that she would never outlive any of her children.
‘Rachel was such a good looking girl; it seems hard to believe that she didn’t have a boyfriend.’ James said to the woman who was sitting beside him at the table.
‘Yes, that’s true for you. She was a lovely looking girl. But she wasn’t seeing anyone at all. I can’t for the life of me understand why not. Don’t think she’s ever really brought a boyfriend home to meet Maureen and Joe. She probably thought she had all the time in the world to settle down, poor girl.’ She made the sign of the cross quickly on herself.
Sarah and James ate their food and then made room for the next group to walk in. They went out to the family room and waited with more neighbours and family until it was time to stand outside and wait for the coffin to be brought out, for the short drive to the church. They stood side by side, all the neighbours and friends, as Rachel’s body was carried out of the house and carefully placed in the hearse, Maureen and Joe walking behind sobbing quietly. It was a scene that Sarah would never forget, one holding the other up, following the coffin like two lost souls.
Chapter Nine
It was the day of the funeral and Katie and her classmates were outside the church. Art was organising them into two groups, lining them up on either side of the church door. The funeral service had just finished and in a moment or two the coffin would be carried out of the church. The children had played a large part in the service with several of them reading the Prayers of the Faithful. Katie had brought up one of the Offertory gifts. Her gift was one of her paintings that she had done in art class with Ms Finch. She had looked so small and vulnerable walking up the church aisle. Her bottom lip had been trembling and she gulped down her tears. Sarah’s heart swelled with sadness that her children had to be subjected to death at such a young age.
When she had reached the top of church, she had faltered as she came close to the coffin. She looked around, panicked and then Tommy, who was one of the altar servers, edged forward and whispered quietly, ‘Katie, over here.’
He gave her a little smile of encouragement and she walked slowly, gingerly, towards Tommy and Fr. Mulcahy. Sarah was once again grateful for Tommy and how he always looked out for his sister. Katie had quickly handed over her painting and bowed her head to the priest,
before turning and walking very quickly to the back of the church to her classmates. Sarah had wanted to grab her and hug her close and had to physically sit on her hands to stop herself. She would hug her shortly.
The bells rang and interrupted Sarah’s thoughts and she caught the smell of incense wafting towards the door as the priest swung his censer backwards and forwards. A bell tolled as the four altar servers followed Fr. Mulcahy, one of them Tommy. He looked very sombre and all of a sudden very grown up for his young age. Every day he looked more like Paul, but today, the resemblance seemed uncanny.
She looked around her quickly, hoping fervently that he had turned up and was making his way to them right now. She’d emailed him the details of the funeral and although he’d not answered her, maybe he would surprise them. The thought of having his strong arms around her right now made her ache with need. She knew it was a long shot, but even so, the disappointment that he had not shown up was crushing.
The pallbearers walked slowly, arms around each other as they carried the coffin carefully towards the graveyard. As the coffin passed by the children, they sang the very poignant Over the Rainbow. This song had special meaning, as the children had started working on their school play, and it was to be The Wizard of Oz. As family, friends, neighbours walked through the guard of honour; there was hardly a person there who wasn’t wiping away a tear. Sarah herself was quietly crying. James was beside her, his face all scrunched up as he desperately tried to hold back the tears.
‘It’s ok to cry, James.’ She whispered quietly.
The Life You Left Page 8
