‘Both of you, stop it.’ Patricia’s ears hurt from all the yelling. ‘You both need to calm down and then we can talk about this rationally.’
David tried to move past Patricia. She wasn’t budging. ‘The time for discussion is over. As head of this household I am issuing an ultimatum.’
God, he could be a pompous arse at times. ‘Don’t David, please.’
‘I’m not interested in your opinion. You will do as I say. Tell Amy to cancel the wedding.’
Amy stilled. Both waited for her response.
‘Mum?’ The pleading in Amy’s voice was hard to handle. Her daughter wasn’t yelling any more, her voice small and childlike. ‘Tell Dad you support me.’
Patricia opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Her breathing became tight and shallow. Maybe if David wasn’t standing right in front of her, his big frame intimidating, then she might be able to say the words. As it was, holding her nerve was proving impossible. As the silence stretched out, David’s expression turned smug. He knew he’d won. Again.
But Amy wasn’t her mother. She did have the courage. Letting go of Patricia, she stepped away, the movement a wrench on Patricia’s heart. ‘It’s simple. Ben and I are getting married. I would prefer your support, but I’ll do it anyway, with or without your consent. In the eyes of the law I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions.’
David’s smugness deepened. ‘The law be damned. Our house, our rules.’
Patricia looked at her husband. Oh, so now it was ‘our’ rules?
Amy removed her apron. ‘In that case, you leave me no alternative. I’m leaving.’
Patricia’s cry of ‘No!’ was drowned out by David’s yelling. ‘Go then! Just remember it was your decision, young lady. If you leave now you’re on your own. You’ll get nothing from us. No money. Nothing.’
Patricia reached for David’s hand. ‘Don’t say that.’ She turned to her daughter. ‘He doesn’t mean it, darling.’
Amy shrugged away from her mum. ‘Yes, he does. I’m going upstairs to pack.’
Patricia felt like her lungs were collapsing. Her daughter was leaving? No, this couldn’t be happening.
If David was concerned that his daughter had called his bluff, then he was too proud to show it. ‘Don’t come running back to us when it all goes horribly wrong.’
Surely this wasn’t what he wanted? He loved Amy, Patricia knew he did.
Amy stopped by the kitchen door. She turned to look at her father. ‘That won’t happen.’
He laughed. ‘Of course it will. You won’t last a year. Where will you be then, tell me that? No university place, no home. Your future will be in tatters. All because you were too stubborn to listen to sense.’
Patricia made a last-ditch attempt to persuade her husband to backtrack. ‘I don’t want her to go, David.’
He dismissed her with nothing more than a disgusted glance. ‘She’s made her bed.’
Amy had one last parting shot before she disappeared. ‘You know why I’m so certain we’ll make it, Dad? Because Ben is nothing like you. He loves and respects me. And he’ll never cheat.’ Her eyes drifted to Patricia. ‘Sorry, Mum.’
The impact of Amy’s words struck Patricia like a hammer blow. Her daughter knew? When? How? Everything Patricia thought she believed in was thrown into question. All these years she’d protected Amy, shielded her from the truth … Or not, as it transpired.
Patricia forced herself to look at David. Was he as devastated as she was? Shamed by their daughter’s knowledge of his infidelity? Would this be a turning point in their marriage?
David nodded towards the stove. ‘The dinner’s burning.’
Obviously not.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Monday, 2 June
Scott handed each card to Lisa so she could read the words of condolence. Friends of Billie, distant relatives, work colleagues from the refuge centre where she’d volunteered, they all wished to pay their respects. Scott had known his mum was popular, but it was overwhelming to receive so many cards. Certain phrases kept cropping up – how much fun she was, how caring, what a loving family she had. Ironic then, that Scott and his sister were sitting in wordless silence, uncommunicative in their grief.
Touching as it was to read people’s glowing tributes, it was hard too. Scott got up from the sofa and went to look out of the window. It was a beautiful morning. The gardens Billie had enjoyed so much were in full bloom. The flowers bursting with colour made him think of Evie. He did that a lot lately.
The knot in his stomach made him fidgety. He checked his watch. Another hour before the funeral car arrived. He loosened his tie, trying to ease the sensation of choking.
Mainly it was the silence that haunted him. He was in a house full of bodies, yet it was like a morgue. Lisa was curled up on the sofa, lost in thought. Dressed in a black jersey dress and leather flip-flops she looked unflustered, statue-like in her stillness. Only the occasional frown creasing her forehead as she read the condolence cards hinted at unease, as though other people’s expressions of grief for their mother’s passing was a conundrum to her.
Ben was holed up in his room. Following a blazing row with her parents last night, Amy had moved in. It wasn’t ideal, but Scott had been backed into a corner. Saying no would have resulted in Ben leaving too and he didn’t want that. Amy’s mum had called numerous times, trying to persuade her daughter to return, but the kid wasn’t backing down. The pair had barely left Ben’s bedroom. Once again Scott was floundering, questioning his parenting skills and wishing his mum were here to advise him.
The contraction in his throat squeezed hard. He went into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. His head throbbed. He had no appetite, and despite feeling exhausted, he couldn’t sleep. When he did, it was disturbed, filled with chaotic dreams. He knew it was all part of the grieving process. He just wasn’t sure how long he could keep functioning.
When the door buzzer sounded he checked his watch. The funeral firm were early. He walked into the lounge. Lisa hadn’t moved from the sofa. There was no movement from Ben’s room either. Scott felt like throwing something against the wall. ‘I’ll get it, shall I?’ he said, mumbling ‘for fuck’s sake’ under his breath as he opened the door.
His brain took a moment to confirm what his eyes were telling him. ‘Nicole?’
With no hesitation she threw her arms around him. ‘Poor baby.’ Her long hair covered his face, the scent of her perfume as familiar as the feel of her curved body. ‘Everything’s okay.’ She hugged him tightly. ‘I’m here now.’
The shock of seeing her was quickly replaced by relief. It was like someone had unlocked a rusty door, forcing it open. The melt started within, his arms sliding around her, his head burying into her coconut-fragranced hair. The need was so powerful he found himself crushing her. It was only when she yelped he realised he’d lifted her off the ground. He put her down, but didn’t let go. Neither did she.
She cupped his cheek, her hand warm and soft. ‘How are you holding up?’
He opened his mouth with the intention of saying ‘fine’, but instead sunk into her arms. He had no idea how long they stayed locked in an embrace, standing in the doorway for all the residents to see. He was past caring. The sense of familiarity, of safety, of a past life filled with love, affection and intimacy was too strong.
At some point his sobbing eased and he released her from his hold. The sleeve of her lace dress was wet. Clumsily, he tried to wipe it.
She took his hand. ‘Let’s go inside. You look like you need a drink.’ Her smile was kind and beautiful and implausibly comforting. She hadn’t changed. Her hair was possibly a shade lighter, but just as long and thick, framing her heart-shaped face. The dress hugged her curves, inviting him to stare.
He followed her into the flat. ‘I can’t believe you’re here.’
‘Of course I’m here. You don’t think I’d let you go through this on your own?’ She reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘I’m here fo
r you.’
Something rattled through his bones. Lust, desire, love, he wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, he didn’t question it. He needed it too much.
Somehow Nicole’s energy filled the awkward void. She chatted to Lisa, asked about her job and life in India. She made tea, arranged cards on the sideboard, straightened the furniture and tidied away rubbish. It was a welcome distraction. It only ended when Ben and Amy emerged from the bedroom.
Unlike Scott, Ben wasn’t pleased to see Nicole. There was no polite chatter. He greeted Scott’s ex-fiancée with an unfriendly ‘What are you doing here?’
Before Scott could reprimand his nephew, Nicole said, ‘I’m here for your nanny’s funeral. To pay my respects and support her family.’ Her smile was angelic, conveying deep sympathy, showing off perfectly white teeth.
Ben wasn’t appeased. ‘Shame you couldn’t show some support when it was needed.’
Scott felt a niggle of annoyance. ‘Ben, that’s enough.’
Ben looked incredulous. ‘I’m just pointing out the truth. She left you, Uncle Scott. Buggered off when Nan became ill. She didn’t want to be stuck with a carer, if you remember.’ He glared at Nicole. ‘Am I wrong?’
Something hot flared within Scott. He wasn’t sure whether it was anger with Ben for being so rude, or because the kid was right. Either way, he couldn’t deal with it. Not today. ‘Now is not the time for recriminations.’
‘It’s all right, Scott. Ben’s entitled to be upset.’ Nicole’s hand settled on Scott’s arm. If she was stung by Ben’s accusation, she didn’t show it. ‘I’m here now, that’s what’s important. We need to be united as a family. It’s what Billie would’ve wanted.’
Amy prevented Ben from responding, turning him away. ‘We all need someone to support us,’ she whispered. ‘You have me. Your uncle doesn’t have anyone. He needs her.’
Ben muttered ‘she’s got some nerve’ but allowed Amy to divert his attention elsewhere.
As usual, Lisa didn’t get involved. It wasn’t until the buzzer announced the arrival of the funeral firm that she got up from the sofa, preparing to leave for the crematorium.
Josh was dressed in full Victorian regalia, complete with tailcoat, waistcoat and top hat. Scott had decided against a formal funeral procession. He didn’t like the idea of someone walking in front of the hearse for all the residents to see, some of whom were close to expiry and wouldn’t appreciate the reminder. In truth, he just wanted today to be over with as soon as possible.
Outside in the parking area, Billie’s coffin was displayed inside a long, shiny hearse. The word ‘Nan’ ran along one side. The spray of white lilies recommended by Evie decorated the top of the coffin. Evie’s face flashed before his eyes, followed by an image of her strawberry shoes. He missed her. But then, he rationalised, he was bound to feel a sense of loss. It was his mother’s funeral.
Lisa appeared next to him. ‘Mum would’ve preferred a horse-drawn carriage. You know how much she loved horses.’
The criticism stung. Scott tried to keep a lid on his agitation. ‘Mum didn’t want a lot of money spent. She wanted her savings to go towards Ben’s wedding. I’m respecting her wishes.’
Lisa shrugged. ‘I’m just saying.’
He stepped away. ‘You had an opportunity to be involved with the arrangements. You didn’t take it.’ Scott felt that was the politest way of pointing out she’d done sod all to help with the funeral, or pay for anything towards it.
Nicole slipped her hand into his. ‘The flowers look beautiful. Billie would be so proud.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘You’ve done a great job, baby.’
His annoyance eased. Thank God Nicole was here.
She reached up and straightened his tie, her chest pressed against his, fluttering her eyelashes as she trailed her fingers down his chest. ‘Perfect.’
He didn’t care about looking perfect. He wanted to be able to breathe.
The journey to the crematorium was sombre. Amy held Ben’s hand, their heads resting together. Nicole had her hand on Scott’s knee, throwing him the occasional sympathetic smile. Lisa sat by herself, her face turned away from everyone else.
People were waiting outside the crematorium when they arrived. Scott recognised a few distant relatives who’d travelled from London.
Josh organised the removal of the coffin and instructed the family to follow the pall-bearers into the building.
Scott’s breath seemed to get stuck in his lungs as he walked down the aisle. He could feel Nicole’s hand in his. He could hear Ben crying as the Beatles’ ‘In My Life’ played softly in the background. He was vaguely aware of people filing into the pews, but everything seemed blurred, misted by a cloud of fog.
Clarity returned when he glanced over and saw Evie. Another jolt of something hit him in the solar plexus. He let go of Nicole’s hand. He wasn’t sure why.
Evie was wearing a black trouser suit. No ponytail, her dark hair falling in waves around her shoulders. It suited her. His eyes dropped to her feet. Plain brogues. Shame. As he drifted by, the hint of tenderness in her smile threatened to undo him. He looked away.
The first section of the service felt surreal. The vicar was kind, her words meant to comfort, but it didn’t feel personal. She talked about Billie being a loving wife to Fraser, mother to Lisa and Scott, grandmother to Ben, but she hadn’t known Billie. She hadn’t known the person behind the facts. Her poor baking skills, the way she hummed show tunes and chatted to strangers at bus stops. It was only when Ben got up to speak that the service switched from generic to specific.
When his eighteen-year-old nephew had asked to deliver the eulogy, Scott had readily agreed, slightly shamed by the relief he’d felt at not having to publicly speak himself.
Ben stepped up to the podium, his suit jacket straining across his shoulders. It looked too small in Scott’s eyes, but Ben had assured him that was the fashion. ‘I’d like to start by thanking you all for coming and for your kind words of condolence. I have a few of the cards here.’ His hands shook as he selected a couple to read out. ‘Billie was so bubbly and resilient.’ He opened another. ‘This one says she was hard working and reliable. Full of love and at peace with her life, despite its hardships.’ He wiped a tear from his cheek.
Scott resisted the urge to go to him. Ben looked so young. Seeing him up there was almost like the time he’d received an award at school for creative writing. Billie had been so proud.
‘As most of you know, my granddad died in a motorbike accident before I was born. My nan had to bring up two children by herself. She never complained and always put on a brave face. Even after her stroke, she kept smiling. But I don’t want to talk about how hard things were for my nan. I want to talk about how brilliant she made things for everyone else.’ His voice caught. He looked at Amy and she nodded for him to keep going. ‘You’re doing really well,’ she whispered.
He cleared his throat. ‘As a kid, my nan would give me two pounds to spend in charity shops, challenging me to see how much I could buy with it. She’d travel on three separate buses to take me to the library so I could borrow books. And best of all, she introduced me to films.’ He managed a weak smile. ‘Nan’s favourite actor was Mel Gibson. I think Mad Max reminded her of Granddad.’
A few people who’d known Scott’s dad chuckled.
‘We watched a lot of films together and it’s because of Nanny that I’m training to be a film director.’ He wiped the end of his nose with the back of his hand. The first teenage gesture he’d made since getting up there. ‘Most of all, Nanny taught me about the meaning of family.’ His eyes flickered to Lisa, her expression impassive, isolated in her grief. ‘She taught me about respect and loyalty. She taught me that love doesn’t come with conditions and it doesn’t need to be earned. It’s given freely and willingly, requiring nothing in return.’ Another glance at Lisa, this one more pointed. ‘I will be a better man because of her.’ He stepped down from the podium.
Amy jumped to her feet, clapping
as if he’d just collected his first Oscar. After a moment’s hesitation the rest of the congregation joined in. It was a strange thing to do at a funeral, but somehow fitting.
Lisa didn’t clap. She remained expressionless, neither insulted nor inspired by her son’s speech. In many ways it didn’t matter. Ben had stopped looking for motherly approval long ago. It was Scott’s face he sought out, his pained expression waiting for parental endorsement. Scott felt his heart pinch.
Getting to his feet, Scott shook Ben’s hand, pulling him into a man hug. ‘Your nan would be so proud of you.’ He drew back. ‘Great speech, mate.’
Ben looked pleased, relieved and tearful at the same time. Poor kid.
The next part of the service was grim. There was no other way to describe watching the coffin holding your mum disappear behind a set of red velvet curtains. Amy held onto Ben as he sobbed. Nicole rubbed Scott’s back, whispering soothing words about how everything was going to be okay. Was it? It didn’t feel like it.
In a rare show of emotion, Lisa removed a tissue from her bag and blew her nose. This simple gesture made Scott wonder if his sister was as unaffected as she made out.
After the prayers had concluded and the sombre melody of ‘Amazing Grace’ started up, Josh asked the family to make their way outside, suggesting they take a moment to admire the wreaths and cards displayed in the memorial garden.
Scott searched for Evie on his way out. She was standing with one of the residents of Peacock Court, the woman who’d got him drunk that time on whisky. A tearful Oshma stood with them. Evie held onto her, consoling his mother’s nurse as she wept. It was comforting to know so many people cared about Billie.
The bright sunlight outside hurt Scott’s eyes. He slipped on his sunglasses, not caring if he resembled one of the characters from Reservoir Dogs, as Ben had remarked earlier. His eyes were sore from crying.
Lisa wandered over to the rose garden.
He went over to join her. ‘You okay?’
She responded with a non-committal shrug. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
The Forget-Me-Not Flower Shop Page 26
