by JA Andrews
No parents should have to say goodbye to their own son. After the funeral I will see if Jenny will allow Daniel to stay with us for a few weeks longer. She can’t seem to see or accept that she needs this time to herself to help get her home in order. Daniel might lose his home. I can’t stand by and watch as they move into some rancid council shoebox house. I’ve lived that way of life.
When Pete and I were much, much younger, and before we started our business, life for us wasn’t the way it is now. We lived on the breadline. We struggled and often we would go without so Michael could have his school uniform and everything he needed, like a decent meal in his belly. He made us proud when he got his accounting and finance degree. Neither of us has been to university and for a son of ours to be so academic reassured us that he would always do well. He loved his job but he never knew how to manage his own money as well as he could handle the financial affairs of his clients.
I appreciate that Gary is giving us a lift to Jenny’s in the morning. I’m not very happy about how he and Jenny have started to become friends, it’s unhealthy. I only accepted the offer of a lift so that I can see for myself how much of a support he really is. I could have asked a number of friends of ours to help but I am determined to meet Gary. I want to see what he is like with Jenny, to see how close they might have become. I’m convinced it’s not good for Daniel to see another man in the family home. It angers me.
Pete is thankful he isn’t driving as he’ll be in a heavy emotional state. He has a long drive down to our lodge for the weekend but Gary will drop us back home here after the funeral. We might take a slow drive down in the evening when the roads are quieter.
If I see that Gary is anything more than a friend, I will be absolutely livid with her. Jenny seems to be isolating herself in her house and I want to check that he’s not worming his way into her life – or my son’s bed. If that were true, I’d give her a piece of my mind but I need to keep my cool for now. I’m going to have to keep a watchful eye on how their friendship develops. I don’t want Daniel near him.
Jenny has informed me that she has allowed Gary to sit in the procession limousine that will follow behind the hearse. What I am annoyed with is that yet again she didn’t even ask me – she’s telling me instead. She says that Gary needs to be there, that Michael wouldn’t have minded his presence – but he’s not family. It’s too intrusive. I understand that he might need closure from the terrible accident but the funeral procession should have been for family members only. This is my son’s funeral and I paid for it. But I don’t want to fall out with her again because she might stop me from seeing Daniel. My grandson is going to need me if his mother doesn’t start standing on her own two feet. I might have to take matters into my own hands. I won’t be able to keep my mouth shut.
If this distress has tainted her mind, I can help her. I hope her parents will make her see sense too, not that I’ve ever really got on with them – but they should also have Daniel’s best interests at heart. I could have a word with them after the funeral about all my concerns. I’m also worried that they will want her to move away to Leeds.
I can’t have them take my grandson that far up north. I have to have hope that he will stay in Westbridge. He needs us. I might have to get some legal advice about access rights. I’ve lost my son. I’m not going to lose my grandson as well.
Leaving Daniel to sleep upstairs, I’ve returned to the living room. I give Pete a hug as we pass each other in the hallway and we both look at each other and sigh.
‘I still can’t believe this has happened to us,’ Pete says, walking into the dining room, ‘no matter how many times I get my head around it. I know he’s dead, I know our son is dead, but I can’t seem to accept it.’
I start to cry when I see Pete holding back the tears. He was never one to show emotions but this is too big a deal for him and he can’t maintain his old-fashioned masculinity. We hug each other again. I place my arms around him and feel how warm he is as we hold on to each other.
‘It’s going to be one hell of a day tomorrow,’ I reply, mustering some words between the sobs. ‘I still can’t believe he is gone either.’
I let go of Pete, who remains seated in the dining room, looking at all the old photos we have of Michael as a child – those times when we took him to the park, the beach, the moors, and the random snaps on our old polaroid instant camera. He hated having his photograph taken as a child, so many of them are surprise shots but in most of them, I see that he looks happy. I’m glad that even through our more poverty-stricken days he was still happy. It reassures me that he knew he had parents who loved him and provided what they could for him. If we could swap places with him we would do without hesitating.
There are some things I would never question. I’m not sure what it was but there was a time – driving past the Westbridge Central Hotel by the train station in town – when I saw something. This was three days before his death and I saw Michael outside, all suited and booted – nothing unusual for the line of work he was in, all those clients he had to see – and he was there with a woman. She didn’t look very old, barely thirty, but he gave her a kiss on the cheek. I mentioned to Jenny about seeing him there at the hotel and I implied he was there for a job interview but she seemed to not know anything about it. Maybe it was just a work colleague?
I have no idea what social circles Michael was involved in but I know that he was away from home an awful lot those past few months. I saw him only a handful of times and I got the impression their marriage was tense. Jenny was only working part-time while staying home to look after Daniel and I now regret not offering more support to them both. Pete and I were so fixated on the gift shop down in Looe that we came to accept that Michael and Jenny led their own lives.
Of course I knew they had had a child together and bought a house together – but Michael had a past. He had a history of being hooked on the fruit machines when he was in his twenties. I know he liked his online gambling, I know he cheated on some of his ex-girlfriends but Pete and I thought Jenny had really made him settle down. She was the one. When I saw him at the hotel I just had that pang of doubt in my mind. I ignored it for a while because it was none of my business but I intended to confront Michael about it. I would remind him that he was a man with responsibilities and that he had a son. He was a father who should start to grow up and he needed to pay me back that £5000 he owed me. I lied to his father to give him that money.
I never had the opportunity to challenge Michael about what I saw that day but in all honesty it could have been a work colleague or a client. I gave him the benefit of the doubt but Jenny may not have done the same and it gave me a little cause for concern.
None of it matters anymore.
There’s a knock on the front door. It makes me jump because we’re not expecting anyone and the neighbours have given us some peace. A couple of our close friends next door have said their condolences but respect our privacy and leave us alone. I’m tempted to ignore it, but the knock sounds again – only this time louder. I’m annoyed because it might wake Daniel. He needs his rest.
‘Don’t worry, Pete,’ I shout through to the dining room. ‘I’ll get it. I’ll send whoever it is away.’
‘Thanks, love,’ Pete replies. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’
I stand here at the front door. I’ve not opened it yet but I wipe my eyes to try to hide that I’ve been crying. I see some flowers through the glass.
‘All right, all right,’ I snap. ‘I’m coming. Keep your hair on.’
All I can think about is Daniel. Now that he is here with us in this house, it’s going to be a struggle to let him go. He’s made this house come alive and I can see how he’s lifted Pete’s mood today too. I think Daniel will be happy here with us for a while.
He’s the only part of Michael we have left and I can’t get that fact out of my head.
Thirty
Jenny
I should be pleased to see my parents but under the cir
cumstances with Michael’s funeral today, it’s a struggle to keep the conversation flowing. I didn’t get much sleep last night but that’s a familiar situation that often leaves me grabbing a few hours on the sofa when Daniel is at preschool. I spent hours talking to them both about the last day I spent with Michael, seeing his body at the hospital, his missing wedding ring, and the lies that he told me.
My husband was under investigation for stealing money at work. My mother and father had no words to describe their shock. I agreed with them that Michael did not seem the type of person to commit a crime like that and I also don’t know why or how? I believed he was going out to work and earning his salary. I knew he was after new clients but I didn’t relate it to him being jobless. My mother still maintains that I should leave everything behind and move back to Leeds. I said I’d have to reconsider my options if I lose the house. Today, I have only the funeral on my mind.
They promised not to cause a scene with Michael’s parents. I’m grieving for a man that I thought was a truthful, honest person but I feel betrayed too. Michael was hiding something serious, and after the funeral, when everything has settled down, I intend to find answers. I’m terrified of the truth yet this could have been going on for years.
My mother is concerned about me, naturally, and keeps telling me to focus on the funeral service then worry about everything else in the coming weeks once this hardest day is over with. She had no words about the debts, the lies, it was as much of a shock to her as it was me when I first found out. Michael was prepared to lose us our home and I may never find out what he did with the money. I thought his gambling days were behind him. I never saw the signs. I had no idea what secrets he was hiding.
I don’t know what to think anymore. I’m so tired. I feel drained of energy. At least my own parents understand that Gary is a friend. Our conversations are harmless. I’m not out to replace Michael with another man so soon and nor will I let Donna play games with Daniel. He is my son.
My mother suggested that I should let the house go and move back up to Leeds. I’m not keen which upset her but I’ve not lived there in years. I have made a life for myself here. My work, my son, I don’t know if I could detach myself from Westbridge. I’m not ready to move nor am I prepared to have these discussions right now.
‘It’s a big decision to make too soon.’ I explained, ‘I want to get through today and say goodbye to my husband.’
I sense the awkwardness of my mother and father because they keep walking around the house, not knowing where to put themselves. They’re angry and wish I had told them everything sooner. I see them trying to make sure that I am all right but I don’t think I’ll ever be the same woman again. I’m focused on the window and I keep thinking that soon my husband will be here. The hearse will park up outside and I am to await that dreaded knock on the door.
I can’t make up my mind what to wear. I don’t like this black dress nor my black shoes, nor my black coat. Donna was adamant that the service was more traditional and respectful, whereas I wanted to inject colour. My mother tied my hair up for me because I couldn’t be bothered. I’m too anxious and nervous to care about my hair. I know that all eyes will be on me today. I was his wife, the woman who should have been by his side, yet I’m expected to stand there and still conceal his lies.
My marriage wasn’t always about struggling with money issues. There were so many happy times that we shared. Buying the house together, having Daniel, long romantic walks on the beach or the moors. We shared some good times when Michael wasn’t focused on work so much. It was only over the last year that I needed him to know it was becoming too much of a strain. Michael never knew when to admit defeats, he should have talked to me more about the credit cards, the movement of money in our bank accounts and draining the savings account of everything we were trying to save for Daniel’s future – all this for our house.
It couldn’t have been just the mortgage putting this much pressure on him if he was out of work. He wasn’t paying the mortgage and money was going elsewhere.
I’m stood at the window with both of my parents behind me. My mother places her arm around my waist. Pulls me in closer and together we stand looking outwards.
‘I’m so proud of you,’ my mother says. ‘My strong girl, you might not think it now, but you will get through this.’
I don’t want to crack and open the flood gates. I hold back the tears and take a breath.
‘Thanks, Mum,’ I respond, placing my hand on hers. ‘I have to stay strong for Daniel. Gary shouldn’t be much longer. Then we’ll all be here together.’
‘I feel for Donna and Peter, I really do,’ my mother says. ‘If that had been you in the accident, I don’t know what I would be like. There’s no words. You’re our only child so I understand how cruel it must feel to have to say goodbye to your only son.’
Michael and I had never discussed having more children other than passing comments here and there about giving Daniel a brother or sister. I made it very clear I needed a career, especially now that I am in my early thirties, I don’t regret Daniel for one minute but another child would have me tied to the house for even longer. I’m not getting any younger.
‘I know you don’t want to think about moving back home, love,’ my father says, ‘but we’re here if you need us. Anytime. Just pick up the phone, our door is always open.’
‘I know Dad,’ I reply. ‘I might take you up on that one day but I don’t want any more upheaval or change in Daniel’s life right now. I have a lot to deal with here, this is our home now.’
They should have been here by now.
‘Where are they?’ I ask. ‘They were meant to be here in plenty of time before the hearse and limo turn up. They’re late. I bet they struggled to get Daniel ready. I knew he should have stayed home with me last night. I bet Donna’s been up all night with him and struggled?’
‘I’m sure if there had been any problems, Donna or Peter would have called you, wouldn’t they?’ my mother says. ‘What about Gary, why is he picking them up anyway?’
I’m tense enough as it is without having to re-explain myself.
‘He’s doing them a favour,’ I snap. ‘They thought they’d be too upset to drive and it was too inconvenient to stay here last night as you two are here. Also, he has a lot of contacts in the car industry, car rentals, and he has a few cars himself. He just wanted to do something to help me.’
I shake with worry, holding the phone to my ear as I dial Donna’s mobile. It goes straight to voicemail.
‘Hi Donna, it’s just Jenny here, checking that you’re on your way. Text or call me when you can.’
I hang up and immediately dial Gary’s number. It goes straight to voicemail.
‘Hi Gary, it’s just Jenny here, checking that you’ve got Donna, Peter and Daniel with you. Text or call when you can.’
‘Maybe they’re on their way and got caught up in traffic,’ my father says. ‘I’m not sure how bad Westbridge roads are at the weekends but I’m sure everything is fine, love.’
I look further out of the window. I’m on edge because the first thought in my mind is that they’ve all been killed in an accident. I’m reminded of the day that Michael left the house and never returned home. I can’t have this happen to Daniel.
I’m shaking now from head to toe and I need to sit down. I’m teary and stressed. I know the hearse will be here soon. I’ve texted both mobiles of Donna and Peter, as well as texting Gary. I need some reassurance that they’re ok.
There’s been a terrible accident, hasn’t there?
I scramble around the browser on my mobile phone searching for road accident news in Westbridge. I can hear my mother and father talking between themselves in the background, but I’ve zoned out. I’m nervous and tense but I struggle to find anything recently reported. Maybe everything is fine and I’m overreacting?
Maybe they’ve run off with Daniel?
‘I knew it, I just knew it,’ I say out loud, my mother and fath
er looking at me with confusion. ‘They’ve run off with Daniel, haven’t they? Donna is always taking over and trying to act like his mother.’
‘I’m sure that’s not the case,’ my mother explains. ‘They’re his grandparents and it doesn’t explain Gary’s part in it. Worst case scenario is that they’re in the car, on their way and probably driving somewhere where there’s no signal. Mobile phones aren’t the most reliable of things, are they?’
I don’t reply, but instead, I look out the window. I hear the sound of a car driving slowly from around the corner. I stop and stare, my eyes fixed on the road, and my breathing intensifies. Michael is here. My husband’s coffin slowly passes my window and a rush of emotion hits me like a ton of bricks. Seeing him outside like this for the first time seems unthinkable, yet it’s very much a reality. I try to look away, but I can’t.
Where is everyone?
The hearse is black with the coffin on display from every window. I see the flowers around him, even though he hated flowers – it’s what Donna wanted. Everything was about what Donna wanted but I could hardly argue as she and Peter paid for everything. If she had all her own way, Michael would have been buried. I never wanted that; I know Michael would not have wanted that either.
My mother and father stand beside me; my mother places an arm around my waist and pulls me in towards her tightly.
‘It looks like the limousine has arrived too,’ my mother says. ‘I can see it just behind Michael. What a beautiful coffin, great flowers. You’ve done him proud.’
‘Daniel should be here by now,’ I reply, my eyes flushed with emotion. ‘We have to wait.’
‘I’ll go outside and let them know what’s happening,’ my father interrupts. ‘I’ll say we’re just waiting on Michael’s parents and they’re stuck in traffic or something.’