by Susan Lewis
Not knowing what to say, Julia merely smiled and started to search for some cups.
'I told Dougie it would be like this,' Peter went on, 'but he wouldn't listen. He'd have made our lives so much easier if he'd believed everyone would want to be there, and decided himself who he wanted to do the readings - and ride in the cars.' He turned around. 'Which reminds me, as his daughter, you'll be in the first one, naturally.'
'As his friend I hope you'll be there with me,' she responded.
Clearly very pleased with the invite, he said, 'It would be an honour, but maybe you'd like to ask Fen. It would mean a lot to her. And David, my
son. Laura, Rico and I can travel in the car behind. Tilde will come with us.'
'Then, of course, that's what we'll do. Will we go from your house?'
'I hope that's all right.'
'Please, Peter, he was your friend, and from what I can tell you knew him probably better than anyone. I'm just glad to be here, to meet you all, and get to know him through you.'
Peter nodded, and let his eyes drop to the floor.
Seeming to realise he needed a moment to collect himself, Rico stepped forward saying, 'Please allow an Italian to finish the coffee.'
As Rico reached him Peter put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a squeeze of thanks. 'Dougie told me if he had anything to do with it,' Peter continued, 'the sun would shine today, so I think we can assume he has something to do with it, don't you?'
Julia looked outside and smiled. 'It really is glorious this morning,' she said, drinking in the sparkling autumnal colours, and feeling the crispness of the air as it drifted in through the open door. 'It could hardly be more perfect.'
At that moment her mobile rang, and seeing it was Josh she excused herself and quickly clicked on. 'Can I call you back?' she asked. 'In about an hour.'
'Of course. Are you OK?'
'Yes, I'm fine. Are you?'
'I miss you,' he said.
Though it pleased her to hear it, she didn't repeat it, because she was unwilling to give him anything of herself right now.
An hour and a half later she was in the bedroom, getting ready to leave, when he rang again. He made no comment about her failure to call him, merely said,'I have to go into a meeting soon. Is it OK to talk now?'
'Yes. it's fine.'
'So are you feeling OK about the funeral?'
'I think so. I've been wondering if I should offer to do a reading. Do you think I should?'
'Do you want to?'
'I'm not sure. It doesn't really feel right. I hardly knew him, while these people clearly considered him one of their own.'
'Then I'd leave it to them. It'll probably mean something just to see you there.'
Julia felt a flutter of nerves and stopped applying her mascara. 'You know what's odd,' she said, watching her reflection in the mirror, 'no- one's mentioned my sister, and she hasn't bothered to get in touch either.'
'Do you think your mother's told her?'
'She's bound to have. Why would she keep it from her?'
'No idea, but you know Pam's never seemed particularly concerned about the way your father left, so maybe she feels it would be hypocritical to start pretending she cares now. Was she mentioned in the will, by the way?'
'No. That's the other thing that's odd. Everything goes to me, except a small bequest to his housekeeper and a backgammon set to his friend, Peter.'
'Well, if Pam's got wind of that, I doubt it'll have done anything to warm her towards him.'
'I don't know how she could have, unless there was some kind of communication between them before he died, which seems unlikely, don't you think? To tell the truth, I feel embarrassed for her, that she's not here. After all, everyone knows he had two daughters, even if they're not mentioning her, and it's not good, failing to turn up for your own father's funeral, is it?'
Josh's tone was sombre as he said, 'It suggests she knows something we don't.'
For Julia it was as though an ominous cloud had slipped into a clear sky, and all she wanted was to make it go away.
As though sensing it, Josh said, 'If I were you I'd try not to think about any of that today. Whatever went on between them, or whatever the truth is, he's dead now, and you're not going to change anything, so let his friends give him a decent send-off.'
'Of course,' she responded, and happy to let the shadows disperse, she turned from the mirror and shrugged off her robe to begin getting dressed. 'What time are you starting out tomorrow?' she asked.
'Early. I want to make sure Shannon's settled in down there before I take off with Dan.'
Julia blinked. 'She's coming to me,' she said. 'That hardly warrants her father having to make sure she's settled in.'
'You know what I mean. And Dan will want to spend some time with you before we leave.'
'I was thinking of inviting you to stay the night,'she told him, though it was the first time it had occurred to her.
'I see. I need an invitation now, do I?' She was about to say no, of course not, when she realised that actually maybe he did. After all this was her house, something she owned without him, and though she'd never had a problem sharing everything with him before, considering their current difficulties maybe she wanted this to stay as her own. 'I'd rather we didn't get into a row this morning,' she said. 'I have to leave in a few minutes.'
'Of course. Would you like me to call later?'
'I expect the children will want to.'
'Then I'll talk to you at the same time. I hope everything goes well today.'
'Thank you.'
'You know where I am if you need me.'
Managing not to ask if that would be with Sylvia, she thanked him again, and rang off.
Her underwear was laid out neatly on the bed, and after stepping into her panties she picked up the bra. As she fastened it she turned back to the mirror and found herself remembering how she'd caught Rico staring at her earlier. Once again she felt embarrassed by how brazen she must have looked, but worse was knowing she'd greeted Peter Bower that way. Fortunately he hadn't seemed to notice, or was simply too polite to let it show if he had, and she could only wish that her nipples weren't quite so prominent, even when not aroused. Then for one heady moment she considered telling Josh about Rico, letting him know how handsome he was, and how captivated he'd seemed by her - or her breasts, anyway. But knowing Josh, he'd see straight through it, and
besides, trying to make him jealous was hardly going to improve the situation they were in.
A few minutes later Fen called out from downstairs.
'Almost ready,' Julia called back, and taking a black cashmere jacket from a hanger she slipped it on over her matching knee-length dress and sheer black tights, and began stuffing make-up, tissues and money into her handbag. Then, feeling her nerves starting to churn, she quickly checked herself in the mirror, wanting to make sure she looked her best for her father. As usual, her lips appeared too full and red, so after applying a pale shade of lipstick in an attempt to tone them down, she ruffled her hair a little to bring more strands around her face and make her eyes seem bigger, then grabbing her phone she ran downstairs to join Fen and her brother, David, who'd driven over in the Land Rover to pick her up.
The funeral cars were already lined up outside the Bowers' farmhouse when they got there, two enormous black Mercedes, and the hearse bearing a coffin covered with flowers. Unwilling to make herself connect it with her father for the moment, she turned to greet the attractive older woman with lustrous brown eyes and an infectious smile who was coming towards her.
'I'm Laura Bower,' she said, taking Julia's hand and using it to pull her into an embrace. 'I'm very sorry we're meeting under these circumstances. You have my condolences, naturally, and I hope it will be some comfort to see how loved your father was.' Her voice was only faintly accented, while her tone was as warm as her eyes.
'Thank you,' Julia smiled. 'And thank you for organising everything.' She was looking at the marquee that was be
ing set up on the lawn, and the caterers buzzing around it.
'Darling, I think we're ready to leave now,' Peter Bower said, coming to put a hand on his wife's arm.
'I hope we will have the chance to talk later,' Laura said, embracing Julia again. 'It will be a busy day I think, but if it starts to feel too much ...' She left the sentence unfinished, and allowed her husband to steer her towards the second Mercedes, while David, who greatly resembled his mother, escorted Julia and Fen to the first one where Reece Allston and his father, in top hats and tails, were holding the doors open for them all to get in.
They travelled slowly through the country lanes, a small but stately procession that grew by the mile as friends and neighbours fell in behind. Julia barely noticed, however, for she was keeping her eves down, not wanting to look at the hearse in front. She was starting to feel strangely disconnected now, even slightly panicky, and in a way angry, for she didn't want it all to be over like this, to know that she'd never see her father again. She needed him here, in her life, not just to understand why he left, but to be a part of the love he'd shared with his wife Gwen and their friends.
As though sensing her turmoil, Fen slipped a hand in hers and gave it a squeeze, while David produced a most welcome hip flask.
The brandy burned her throat and fortified her, and when he nodded for her to have more, she did.
By the time they arrived at the crematorium so many were already there that they were spilling out of the doors, most of them dressed in black, some with hats, others with flowers in their lapels. Julia guessed they'd all be eager to catch a glimpse of her, and for one bewildering moment she felt like a movie star turning up for a premiere. It occurred to her how much her father would enjoy that, and she experienced a small surge of pleasure at the link it seemed to forge.
As she walked towards the crematorium with Fen beside her, she looked around at the faces watching her pass, and wondered who they all were. Was each one known to her father, or were there strangers present, men or women, or even children, who'd come from the past with sinister intent?
Forcing the ugly thoughts from her mind, she walked on into the building and was immediately assailed by the scent of flowers. For some reason she felt a strange coldness descending through her, followed by a sudden heat. She moved along the aisle, keeping her eyes lowered and listening to the recording of a Gluck sonata that was filling the hall with its gentle grandeur. She wondered if her father had chosen the music himself, and suspecting he had she found it easing some of the tension inside her.
The front row was empty, waiting for her and the Bowers to fill it. The vicar came over to greet her, offered his sympathies, and expressed a hope that she would find the service comforting and fitting. He'd known Dougie well, he said, so had been able to make his address personal, and, he hoped, as uplifting as Dougie himself.
Laura Bower arrived with Tilde and went to sit at the end of the row. Spaces were left for Peter and David to join them. The vicar returned to the altar, then the music stopped and everyone fell silent. Moments later the music began again. This time it was an aria from Salieri, so stirring and sublime that Julia knew the coffin was coming in now riding on the shoulders of six of her father's closest friends. She didn't look round, but could hear people reaching into pockets and handbags for tissues. Next to her Fen's shoulder started to shake, and Julia reached for her hand.
They stayed that way throughout the service, not letting go of each other, needing the support of their new friendship and to share the link binding them to the man to whom they were saying goodbye. Though Julia listened to the readings, sang the hymns and closed her eyes for the prayers, she was starting to feel as though this was all being experienced by somebody else - a teenage girl maybe, whose ghost had come to stand beside her beloved daddy's coffin. She could almost see herself there, gangly and dark-haired, head bowed as the core of her life was removed. How would she go on without him? He couldn't leave her again, he just couldn't.
They were moving the coffin now, sliding it towards a red curtain. The vicar was blessing it. The curtain glided back and Fen's grip became so hard it hurt. Julia's eyes stayed with the casket. He couldn't see the teenager following, or the grown woman watching. He was going to another world, a different place in time, and would never come back.
The coffin moved forward and the curtain started to close. Her chest was so tight she was barely able to breathe. The teenager didn't want to let go. She couldn't. It was all becoming tangled inside her now, voices, pain, fear. Somewhere in the darkest corners of her soul it was as though a raging current was coming to sweep her away. She could feel herself being swallowed into it, falling back and back ...
She lifted her hands to her face and felt Fen's arm go round her. She needed Josh to be here, and Shannon and Dan. They were her life now, and she must hold onto them. Her father had gone. He couldn't come back, but even as she struggled to accept that, it was as though a terrible blackness was closing over her, sucking her into a void of endless loneliness and despair.
By the time they all filed out of the crematorium Julia had herself back under control, and was able to greet the people Fen was introducing with warm smiles and gratitude for their kind words. Never mind that she felt like an impostor, or someone who was taking credit for something she hadn't done, they all seemed more than happy to accept her as Dougie's daughter, and most of all pleased that she'd come. However, they didn't linger long, for everyone was returning to the house where the caterers, and a much-needed tipple, were waiting.
Though the reception started out as a sedate, dignified affair, with most sipping tea from bone- china cups, and nibbling sandwiches with no crusts, it wasn't long before champagne corks started to fly and balloons floated down from a
net above, for it was a final request of her father's, she discovered, that everyone should have a thoroughly good time. And it didn't appear anyone had a problem with that, for the organ dirges were soon replaced by considerably more rousing music, and the laughter became much louder and more raucous Toast after toast was drunk to Dougie and Gwen, who could almost have been there as newly-weds, rather than the dear departed.
Since she'd eaten nothing all day Julia soon felt the champagne going to her head, and as her glass was constantly being refilled, it wasn't long before her emotional pendulum was swinging around so erratically that she was barely aware of what she was thinking or feeling. All she knew was that she seemed to remain in the same spot as everyone jostled around her, each with a memory to share or an anecdote to relate. If they were curious about her, and they surely must be, today they appeared to be restraining it since no-one asked why Dougie had kept her a secret, or where the rest of her family was on this momentous occasion.
All the time she greeted new people, talked, laughed and listened, she was aware of Rico's moody eyes watching her, but though she felt flattered by the attention, she knew only too well what a dangerous combination alcohol and emotion could be, so deliberately kept her own gaze averted. It was hard, though, for as the day wore on and she drank even more, she was starting to feel reckless almost to the point of madness, and needy to a degree that could easily be shaming. More than anything she wanted Josh to be here,
to be as close as they'd always been, with no Sylvia between them, no lies and no deceit. It was too late for that, she knew it was always going to be there now, but she mustn't let herself dwell on it. She should just go on enjoying being someone's cherished daughter for a change, instead of someone's mother or wife, because it felt liberating and stimulating and almost as intoxicating as the wine.
'Blimey, you're an 'ard one to get through to,' a florid-faced, stocky little man declared breathlessly, as he managed to elbow his way to the front of the crowd. 'Bin dying to meet you since we all got back here. Albert Granger, Gwen's second cousin. Everyone calls me Albie.'
'Nice to meet you, Albie,' Julia responded, shaking his hand.
'Don't mind telling you, I got the surprise of me li
fe when I found out about you,' he confided. 'Who'd have thought old Dougie had such a stunner as you hidden away? Not me, that's for sure. Definitely got the better of me this time, he did. Mind you, I was always teasing him about his past. Reckoned he had a few too many secrets, that's what I always used to tell him. He'd say Albie, before I go I'll tell you where I buried the bodies.' He laughed loud and long, while Julia smiled politely and knew instinctively that her father hadn't much taken to this man.
'Course, I knows there's no bodies really,' he went on jovially. 'He just used to say that to get me going. Wouldn't hurt a fly, old Dougie, everyone knows that. Didn't have it in him, never mind the way he was when he first moved down
here. Had a lot on his mind back then, our Gwen used to say. Had a right temper on him too, I can tell you, because I was one of the ones who copped it once. Could hardly say anything without him going oft the handle in those days. Just thank God for our Gwen. She had the right influence on him. Never used to lose his temper and go off on his drunken rampages once he got settled with her, and thick with the Bowers.'
Realising they were coming dangerously close to a place she didn't want to go, especially today, Julia started to interrupt, but with her thoughts blurred by champagne she found an excuse maddeningly elusive.
'Course there was lots of rumours back then,' Albie continued, undeterred, 'but I never used to pay em much mind. It was his business if he'd been in trouble with the law, weren't it? Nothing to do with me.'
Julia's heartbeat was starting to slow. 'What kind of trouble?' she heard herself ask.