To the Devil's Tune

by Barnard, Jo

  After the rollercoaster that was Christmas Eve, I had slept like a log, and awoke feeling calm, rested, and ready for the festive day ahead with Saffie and Sol.

  I always looked forward to a nice long soak in the bath on Christmas morning. It was a bit of a personal tradition. I crumbled my favourite fragranced bubble bar under the running water and immersed myself in the luxurious foam. It felt so good not to be rushing, but nevertheless, I still had to pack my overnight things and an outfit to wear to Guy’s tomorrow. I wasn’t sure that pyjamas would be wholly appropriate for a first dinner date.

  That aside, pyjamas were definitely the order of today, so I rubbed in a scented body balm and put on my favourite snuggie pair, along with some cosy slippers, completing the look with a fluffy dressing gown. The combination of nightwear, daylight and travelling on the bus, however, may have lead to me getting institutionalised, so with that in mind, I decided to push the boat out and get a cab. Saffie was only in the next village after all.

  Sol’s cheeky little smiling face greeted me at the door. He was nine and just on that border of not being one hundred percent sure if Santa existed, but really wanting it to be true, so going along with the whole thing anyway. I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to confirm his fears, and I thoroughly enjoyed playing along with the whole magical concept of flying reindeers and elves.

  “Merry Christmas, sweetheart!” I bent down to kiss him and he gave me the most scrumptious hug. The smell of Christmas trees and roasting turkey filled the house.

  “Where’s Mum?”

  “She’ll be down in a minute. She’s just drying her hair and putting her posh pyjamas on. I’ve been waiting for you by the window.”

  “How lovely. I’ve been excited too. Now tell me, what did Santa bring?”

  He ran over to the tree and held up a big box. “A remote control car!”

  “Wowzers! That looks rather special! I’m guessing you must’ve been pretty darn good this year then?” Sol smiled and shrugged. “So did you leave him a note last night? You know, the big guy?”

  “Sure did. And he even wrote back, look.”

  “How cool is that? Well, that must mean you left him and his reindeers a tasty treat then? Only I’m sure he doesn’t write back to everyone.”

  “Sherry, mince pies and carrots.”

  “Wow. That’s enough to make any guy write a note.”

  “Fancy a game of Guess Who? It’s the new edition. I got it in my stocking.”

  “Well, quite frankly, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do, Sol. But on one condition. You have to let me win.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, coz I’m old, and I’m a sore loser.”

  Sol giggled, enjoying my teasing. By the time we’d played the best of three with Sol emerging as the Guess Who champion, Saffie entered the room with open arms. “Merry Christmas, honey! It’s so good to have you here. Isn’t it, Sol? Nice to have Auntie Judith?”

  “Really nice,” Sol agreed.

  “And it’s really great to be here, so thank you both.” We shared a wonderful pyjama’d embrace and Saffie smelt divine.

  “Right then, glass of sherry while we peel the spuds? I opened the bottle for Santa last night.” She winked.

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  “May as well start as we mean to go on, eh? Here, let’s have a mince pie while we’re at it. Sol, darling, can you put the Christmas tunes on please?”

  We all did a bit of ‘Rocking Around The Christmas Tree’ in our slippers, and then Sol went off to play with his new car.

  “So? Did you sort things with Guy?”

  “Thankfully yes. It turned out to be a rather emotional afternoon. Guy was really honest with me, bless him. He’s just frightened of hurting me that’s all. He knows his priority must always be about keeping on the straight and narrow, and I guess the responsibility of that weighs heavy on his mind, let alone having someone else to consider.”

  “Well, you’ll just have to make sure you don’t distract him tooooo much with your womanly charms then won’t you, Jude?” She smirked.

  “I think I can support him you know, Saff. You know – properly understand and appreciate his fears.”

  “Well, he certainly seems like he’s up for supporting you. See? There you go. Like I said – a match made in heaven. So, is it official then? Are you and Guy, well, you know.”

  “I believe we are, Saff, and it feels good. He’s offered to cook me dinner tomorrow night. Our first official date.”

  “Crikey, best not be too hung-over then. Speaking of which, let’s have another sherry and raise a glass to you and Guy. Here’s to love!”

  “To love!”

  Saffie seemed so happy for me, and I made a decision not to tell her about Annie’s passing as I didn’t want her worrying or feeling bad. But as we sat down at the table to tuck in to our delicious feast of a meal, a feeling of complete love and gratitude washed over me and I raised a glass to my angel, my saviour, whose guiding light had shone so brightly, it showed me the way out of the dark.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I looked at the clock. Its bold red response told me unmistakeably that it was six in the morning on Monday the eighth of January. I pulled the duvet over my head and tried to block out all evidence of the day. But it was no use, today was happening whether I liked it or not, and I sure wasn’t going to miss Annie’s send off. I laid there for a while, rerunning the conversations we’d shared, and all the things she’d said in the short time I’d known her that had meant so much.

  Then suddenly, as if she was sitting right next to me, I heard her voice as clear as day:

  “Jude, darling, we have to accept that all good things come to an end. And when they end, wonderful new things have room to take their place.”

  It took me back to the day I visited her in hospital. I hadn’t realised the significance of her words on that day, but I sure did now.

  In this very moment, and for the first time ever, the cycle of life made perfect sense. I looked out of the window to the barren trees beyond, and I understood that their emptiness would soon be replaced with healthy new life. And whether that life took the form of green leaves or fruit, it would either provide food for wildlife or oxygen and shade for us humans on a hot day. Nothing was wasted and everything mattered. But in order to appreciate it fully, the process of death followed by birth followed by death and so on, had to be accepted as a necessary change; Annie’s death included.

  At that precise moment, a fluffy white feather floated gently past my line of vision and I somehow knew that this was a comforting message that she was still around.

  I made myself some breakfast and tried to decide on what to wear to the funeral. It was cold and drizzly outside, and certainly not the most pleasant conditions for a burial. The dress code had been specified as ‘non black : the brighter the better’, and so with Annie in mind, I opted for an aqua-coloured knitted dress, a wide red belt and matching bangle, and my oldest but most favourite pair of red leather boots. I would finish it off with my scarlet lipstick and turquoise earrings from India.

  “Here’s to you, Annie,” I said aloud, slurping the last mouthful of coffee and raising my mug to the heavens. “May you rest in peace and continue to shine your loving brightness wherever you go.”

  I could almost feel Annie’s approval as I added each item to my ensemble, as if we were somehow getting ready together and sharing a giggle.

  “There! Is that bright enough for you, Annie?” I smiled.

  I opened the door to Guy who was bang on time in collecting me. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt over a long sleeved t-shirt and looked as cheeky as ever, if a little nervous. Not many people were handsome enough to carry off this look, but Guy most definitely was. I couldn’t help but hum the theme tune from Hawaii Five-O as he walked in.

  “Very funny, Jude.”

  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” I gave him a hug and a kiss, and we squeezed each other tightly. Noticing th
e transfer of red lipstick from my lips to his, I quickly gave them a wipe. “Maybe not the best look for your reading,” I commented, and gave a twirl, amused by the vividness of my outfit. “So? How do I look?!”

  “Like a Bloody Smurf!”

  “Gee thanks!”

  “That’s the name of a cocktail you know. Blue curacao and grenadine. A Bloody Smurf. Very tasty!” He winked. “A bit like you.”

  “Well if I’m a Bloody Smurf, then you must be a totally tropical pinã colada. Oh no, wait…a Blue Hawaii!”

  “I’ll have you know I’m an alcohol free zone thanks very much missy. My body is a temple don’t you know. So I guess I’m more of a mocktail than a cocktail these days. Fruity with a bit of fizz”

  “Sounds delicious! And no hangover either. I might have to try it sometime.”

  “Well, you never know…if you play your cards right and all that…Anyway, come on, Smurfette, are you ready?”

  “I think so. But wait…hang on a moment. Can you smell something?”

  “No? Like what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Like…Hawaiian Tropic?”

  He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Well, aren’t you the funny one today then?! Now hurry up or I’m going to have to put you on the naughty step when we get back. And if that doesn’t sort you out then we’ll have to resort to a good old-fashioned smacked bottom.”

  “Ok, ok, I’m coming, I’m coming.” I grabbed my keys and linked my arm through Guy’s. It was good to have a laugh together. We both needed to release some tension, and I felt sure that Annie was enjoying the amusement too.

  We arrived at the cemetery in plenty of time, and as we drove slowly along the winding lane, through the gardens and up to the chapel, the sun broke through the clouds.

  “Oh, look, Guy, a rainbow. Isn’t it beautiful?”

  He smiled. “Maybe it’s Annie’s rainbow-bridge to heaven.”

  “Ahh, that’s a nice thought. I like that. Annie’s colourful ascension.” I turned my gaze from the rainbow to Guy’s face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Nervous. But ok. I want to do this for Annie and I feel so honoured to be asked. I just hope I don’t muck it up.” He pulled up the handbrake and I placed my hand over his.

  “You’ll be fine. In fact, you’ll be amazing. Now come here.” I put my arms around him and he hugged me tightly. “She’ll be with you, you know.”

  The car park was filling up fast and it wasn’t long before the funeral director appeared, walking humbly up the driveway in front of the hearse. We made our way over to the entrance of the chapel, awaiting the arrival of Annie, and I was delighted to see that every member of our group was there too, along with a sea of faces I didn’t recognise.

  As her coffin came into view, I was overwhelmed at how many flowers surrounded her. The beautifully arranged words, MUM, SISTER and NAN, made me appreciate that she didn’t only play the role of wise leader, confidante, and friend to many, but wore several family hats too. Unable to swallow down the lump in my throat, I felt myself wobble, and the tears began to flow.

  Two men lifted the front half of the coffin onto their shoulders, whilst two funeral guys held up the rear. Recognising a likeness, I gathered they must’ve been Annie’s son and grandson, and they walked solemnly but proudly past us, into the chapel, their pathway lit by the now-beaming sun.

  As we followed in behind, we were each handed an order-of-service booklet, and told that the seating on the left-hand side was for blood family, and that the right was for her Al-Anon family. And there laid Annie at the front; in pride of place; head of both families, I thought.

  The chapel was full to bursting with brightly coloured guests, and a huge feeling of love filled the room. I took my seat next to Guy, and looked down at the cover of the order of service. There, smiling back at me, was my friend Annie. Optimistic, joyful and incredibly knowing. Guy gripped my hand tightly and I flicked through the pages to see when his turn would be. And there it was – his full name printed in black and white before me, listed directly beneath the eulogy: ‘Reading by Guy Swann.’

  I’d only know Guy for a couple of months, and we’d only been together for a matter of days. Nevertheless, we knew so much about each other, and yet I’d never thought to ask his surname. But suddenly, the final mystery piece of Rose’s reading puzzle slotted into place. The image of a swan that she received when I was there, was about Guy. Guy Swann. My new man. This gorgeous gent who had picked me up from Saffie’s on Boxing Day and cooked me a heavenly meal with pure goodness in his heart and no expectations in return. This beautiful soul who had been so incredibly honest with me about his heartfelt fears. I knew that Annie would be so pleased we’d worked things out, and who knows, maybe she’d had a hand in our resolution too.

  The eulogy, given by her son, was both funny and touching, and I felt privileged to listen to and discover things about Annie the mother, Annie the wife, Annie the sister and Annie the gran.

  And then it was Guy’s turn to take centre stage, being introduced as Annie’s ‘right-hand man when it came to recovery’, which everybody smiled at. Clearly and calmly, he began to speak.

  “Like many of us in this room today, I owe so much to Annie. And like many of us in this room today, Annie spent many years struggling away in a dark lonely place, feeling scared and confused. But then, when she’d had enough of struggling, she discovered a group of understanding people who were willing to share their experiences with her, and together they took great comfort in following a twelve-step programme which could lead them back to sanity. She gradually learnt to let go of her deep sorrow, despair and anger with the world, and when she did, she made room instead for peace, joy and acceptance. This was no bearing of what went on around her. It was her own inward journey.

  “Then once she was strong enough, she reached out her hand and offered help to whoever was ready to take it. And although I’m sorry that Annie had to struggle, I am also very grateful that she did. Because it made her compassionate towards other people like me, and as a result, her loving wisdom touched many of us sitting before me. That’s why we’re here. Because we love her, and we want to show her our gratitude, but also because she suffered.

  “I feel so lucky that our paths crossed when they did, and incredibly honoured to be standing here right now. As always, Annie knew exactly what she wanted, and she even told the paramedic to write down a list of her wishes in the ambulance on her way in to Accident and Emergency. Beside my name, she wrote ‘October 4 – Today’s reminder’, and I truly hope I’ve rightfully assumed that she wanted me to read this passage from one of her favourite books, Courage to Change:

  “Although we have our unique qualities, all hearts beat under the same skin. Your heart reaches out to mine as you share your story and your faith. I know that the part of myself which I share with you is taken to your heart. Today I will cherish our collective strength.

  “And I really feel that this message is meant for everyone sitting here today, united in our love for Annie. Thanks for listening and God bless you all.”

  As Guy came back to take his seat next to me, my heart swelled with love for him. We linked arms and listened to the rest of the service until it was time to leave. Andrea Bocelli and Sarah Brightman’s ‘Time To Say Goodbye’ sung her out, causing many a guest to sob into their hankies. The words made it all the more real. Annie was gone from this world and we would never see her in the flesh again.

  As we followed her coffin to its final resting place, I noticed that she would be laid beside her beloved husband George. And as we got closer still, I watched a pair of robins appear from the freshly dug plot, one with a juicy worm in its beak. Annie and George, I thought. Together at last.

  Her son and daughter each threw in a rose, and one by one, Annie’s blood family said their goodbyes and left the cemetery for drinks in the local pub.

  But her spiritual family felt compelled to remain. One of Annie’s oldest friends in Al-Anon, Ronnie, who had phoned
Guy with the news of her death, asked us to form a circle around her grave. Mousey Martha stood to my left, and a kind-looking woman who Guy seemed to know, positioned herself to my right.

  With great authority, similar to that of Annie’s, Ronnie began to speak.

  “Each of us here is part of a circle of hope that is greater than any of our individual problems and differences. Let us join our hands in a circle and say the words of the Serenity Prayer together…”

  Drawing great strength from each other, our collective voices grew evermore powerful as we repeated the words that had come to mean so much.

  “God, grant me

  the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

  the courage to change the things I can,

  and the wisdom to know the difference.”

  I had once imagined that losing my Earth Angel teacher would be the saddest day of my life. But it wasn’t. Something was lifting my soul up, far beyond a place of grief, and I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it was Annie. And I also believed for the very first time, in my heart of hearts, that no matter what the future held for me, everything was going to be just fine.

  -End-

  References

  Two books have been mentioned in this fictional story, which are real in their existence. They are full of wisdom, truly inspirational and highly recommended by Jo.

  These are:-

  The Language of Letting Go, by Melody Beattie, published by Hazelden.

  Courage to Change: one day at a time in Al-Anon II, Al-Anon Family Groups.

  About The Author

  Jo Barnard lives with her husband, two sons and rescue poodle, by the river of a small Essex town. In 2008, she gave up her fifteen-year career in marketing to pursue her passion for holistic living, and set up her wellbeing clinic, ‘you-time’, where she offers various treatments, teaches Reiki and meditation, and encourages others to step into their own personal power.