Things I Should Have Said and Done

by Colette McCormick

  Marc put down the empty mug and readied himself.

  ‘I saw an undertaker this morning,’ he announced.

  ‘What did he say?’ Dad asked.

  ‘He’s booked the crematorium for half ten on Tuesday.’

  ‘Crematorium!’ The word filled the room. My mother sounded horrified.

  ‘There’ll be a service at St Aidan’s at ten o’clock.’ If Marc’s words were intended to placate my mother they failed.

  ‘Ellen’s not going to be cremated.’ Mum looked towards Dad for help. ‘Brian, tell him. Ellen can’t be cremated.’

  ‘It’s up to him, love.’ Dad said softly.

  ‘No,’ Marc corrected. ‘It’s up to Ellen.’ He looked directly at my mother. ‘It’s what she wanted.’

  ‘She didn’t,’ Mum said.

  ‘She said she did.’ Marc said the words slowly.

  ‘I don’t believe it, she wouldn’t.’

  I moved into the centre of their triangle. ‘I did, Mum,’ I tried to tell her.

  ‘I won’t allow it,’ Mum said as she started to rock back and forth in her seat. ‘I’m sorry but I can’t allow it. We can’t allow it.’ Poor Dad didn’t get a chance to say anything. ‘There’s never been a cremation in this family.’ She was shaking her head. ‘If it’s a matter of money …’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with money.’ Marc cut her off mid-sentence. ‘It’s what Ellen wanted.’

  Mum stopped rocking and leaned forward. ‘Look, Marc. I know you were her husband and I know you loved her but we were her parents and I think we know a bit about what she wanted. And apart from that, surely what we want has to be considered.’ She paused to take a deep breath. ‘And we want her buried.’

  ‘Ellen wanted to be cremated,’ Marc insisted.

  ‘How do you know that?’ I was surprised by my mother’s reaction and couldn’t understand why she was getting so upset. ‘She was my daughter and I think I would know what she wanted and I know that she would want to be buried. She was brought up to be buried.’

  Brought up to be buried? How can anyone be brought up to be buried?

  I went over to Marc’s side. I sat on my haunches and tried to give him strength. ‘Don’t let them bury me, Marc. Don’t you dare let them,’ I told him.

  Marc shifted forward in his seat. ‘I’m sorry you feel this way but it’s not going to change anything.’

  ‘I will fight you over this, Marc,’ she said.

  I couldn’t believe my ears. ‘What are you talking about?’ I asked.

  Marc asked a similar question. ‘Fight me for what?’

  ‘You will not burn my daughter,’ she announced.

  ‘But it’s what I want,’ I told her. Why couldn’t she hear me?

  ‘Look.’ Marc’s voice was calm and quiet. ‘I’m sorry if this is upsetting for you, but trust me it can’t be any worse for you than it is for me. Ellen is gone and there are only two things I can do for her now. One is that I can raise our daughter the best I can, and the other is to see that her body is dealt with in the way she wanted it to be. I intend to do both. That means a cremation and that’s the end of it.’

  ‘No,’ Mum sobbed, ‘we won’t allow it.’

  ‘But if it’s what she wanted …’ Dad tried to calm her.

  She threw him a black look. ‘What she wanted! How do we know what she wanted? We’ve only got his word for it.’ She transferred the look to her son-in-law.

  Marc said nothing but his look was as black as hers.

  ‘Peg,’ Dad tried again, ‘they’ll have talked about it. Of course Marc knows what she wanted.’

  ‘But what about when you want to visit her?’ Mum asked. ‘You need a gravestone to have somewhere to go.’

  ‘She didn’t want a gravestone.’ Marc said.

  ‘Rubbish.’ Mum almost laughed. ‘Of course she wanted a gravestone.’

  ‘Why?’

  Mum looked to my dad for inspiration but none was forthcoming. Her voice broke as she spoke. ‘Because it’s somewhere for us to go when we need to talk to her,’ she said sadly.

  I moved from Marc to my mother. ‘You can talk to me now.’ I stood less than six inches away.

  ‘Margaret.’ I could tell that Marc had reached that point where he didn’t want to argue anymore. ‘Brian. Ellen wanted to be cremated.’ Mum opened her mouth to speak but Marc stopped her. ‘I repeat,’ he emphasised, ‘Ellen wanted to be cremated and that’s a fact. She was terrified of being buried and waking up in the coffin. And she used to say that she didn’t want anyone building a supermarket on top of her in fifty years’ time.’

  ‘She wouldn’t be so stupid,’ my mother scoffed.

  ‘So I’m stupid?’ I stood in front of her with my hands on my hips. I heard George chuckling but I was undeterred. ‘It’s no stupider than being brought up to be buried.’

  ‘You’ve got to respect her wishes, Peg,’ Dad said. He could understand. He wouldn’t have called me stupid.

  ‘But what about a grave?’ Mum’s argument was weakening. ‘Where will I go?’

  I was still annoyed by the ‘stupid’ comment. ‘You hardly talked to me when I was alive, why do you want to now that I’m dead?’ I challenged.

  Being dead was very liberating.

  Dad moved closer to Mum and reached out to touch her hand.

  ‘Talk to her here,’ Dad said. ‘Remember her here. Remember her when she was little and she used to help you with the dusting. Or when she first got interested in boys and you had to comfort her through heartache.’

  My mother admitted defeat and sank deep into her chair. Her head fell to the side and she stared straight ahead.

  Dad and Marc looked at each other with a hint of embarrassment.

  ‘I’m sorry, Brian,’ Marc said, ‘but I swear it’s what Ellen wanted.’ He stood up slowly. ‘I’d best get to the hospital,’ he said. Dad nodded and pushed himself out of his own chair and they moved to leave the room.

  ‘Why St Aidan’s?’

  They stopped and turned to my mother, who still sat in her chair.

  ‘Sorry?’

  Mum turned to him. ‘Why have a service at St Aidan’s? Ellen didn’t go to church.’

  ‘You do.’

  Marc’s answer surprised me but my mother’s reaction surprised me more.

  ‘You shouldn’t have bothered,’ she said. ‘I’m done with all that.’

  Dad and Marc looked at each other again.

  ‘Give Naomi a hug from me.’ Dad gave Marc his cue to leave.

  ‘I will.’

  ‘I’m just trying to do what’s best,’ Marc said as Dad opened the door.

  Dad nodded and patted Marc sympathetically on the back as he left.

  He closed the door and turned back to look at where his wife still staring at a wall.

  Marc went to the hospital.

  We went with him.

  I stood close by as Marc sat on the edge of Naomi’s bed. She was still a little pale and looked tired but forced a smile onto her face.

  ‘Have you got a hug for me?’ Marc asked.

  Naomi’s climbed onto his lap and into his arms in silence. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and held her close.

  I could see the fear in his eyes.

  ‘Come on,’ I whispered. ‘Do it now, get it out of the way.’

  He pulled her closer and she nestled herself against his chest, playing with one of the buttons on his shirt.

  ‘You …’ His voice croaked. He coughed and started again. ‘You must be wondering about what happened when you were in the car,’ he said. She stopped playing with the button and shifted in his arms until she could look into his eyes.

  I took a step back.

  ‘Yesterday,’ he said, as if he were choosing his words carefully, ‘something happened to Mummy.’ Each word was dragged out of the last. ‘Do you remember what happened in the car?’ he asked and Naomi nodded her head. Even from a distance I could see the horror in her eyes. I willed Marc to move on
swiftly and thankfully he did. ‘Well, Mummy got hurt very badly,’ he said, ‘and she had to go away. She didn’t want to leave us but she didn’t have a choice.’ He said the words quickly. Maybe that made them easier to say. I doubted it. He swallowed hard. ‘She’s had to go far away to a place called Heaven where she doesn’t hurt anymore. And because she’s in Heaven we won’t be able to see her every day like we used to.’ He stopped talking and I noticed there were tears in his eyes again. As he talked he stared ahead like he was focusing on a single spot. Maybe that was helping him keep his emotions under control. Even from my distance I could see the muscles in his face twitching. He kept his eyes on his whatever it was he had focused on as he rested his lips on the top of Naomi’s head. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip around his daughter. He sat like that for what seemed like a long time.

  I could see the fear and confusion on Naomi’s face and I willed Marc to get a grip of himself. Marc must have sensed it too. He opened his eyes and blew out a breath.

  ‘Mummy’s had to go away and that might make you sad,’ he said, ‘because I know it makes me sad.’ He took another second to compose himself. ‘But just because we can’t see her doesn’t mean Mummy can’t see us. I know in that faraway she can still see us. And I know she’ll care about us and love us, just like we’ll care about her and love her.’

  Naomi shifted her gaze and looked at me. Her eyebrows knitted together and she opened her mouth as if she was going to say something.

  Then something in her eyes changed.

  With a heavy sigh she turned to her father. The tears he had kept out of his voice were flowing down his face and off the end of his chin. Naomi moved so she was kneeling in front of him. She put her tiny arms around his neck and pulled him close. Marc allowed himself to be cradled. I have never been more proud of my daughter.

  I motioned to George with my head and moved away. I felt like an intruder.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Marc held Naomi’s hand as they walked out of the hospital. Dr Moran was there to ruffle my daughter’s hair before they left. After the doctor walked back inside, Marc scooped Naomi into his arms and carried her to the car.

  We walked behind them and I could feel Naomi’s eyes on me all the time. At one point she almost smiled at me.

  Marc pointed the key towards the car and pressed the button to unlock it while they were a distance away. He opened the back door and lowered Naomi into the seat, being careful that she didn’t hit her head on the way down. He was always gentle with her but he was even more so now. Or at least that’s how it seemed. It occurred to me that there was a good chance he would become over-protective of her and who could blame him? I didn’t. If I were him, I’d never want to let her out of my sight.

  Marc fastened the seat belt around her and took extra care to make sure she was secure. He checked it once and then again. I could see the effort it took for him not to check a third time.

  He closed the door and gave it a push before walking to the driver’s side. He stood with the open door in his hand and looked at the hospital. God knows what was going through his mind.

  He slowly climbed into the car and started the engine.

  Something told me this wasn’t a good time to hitch a lift so we watched them drive away. We were waiting for them at the end of their journey.

  Naomi walked slowly down the path towards our house. Marc was a couple of steps ahead of her. He transferred her bag from one hand to the other so he could dig deep into his pocket for the keys. Naomi lifted her head and watched. Eventually Marc found what he was looking for in the pocket of his jacket. He opened the door and held it open.

  At first Naomi, didn’t move. She just stood in front of the doorway, staring ahead.

  I moved towards them as Marc crouched beside her. I could see that he was talking to her but wasn’t close enough to hear what he was saying. I guessed he was trying to coax her to go in. When he stood up he stooped so his arm was around his child’s shoulders and they moved together. I went with them.

  Naomi entered the house reluctantly and once inside I noticed that she was looking around. It was as if she was searching for something and I realised that it was probably me.

  It was only after she had checked every room including the bathroom that she went back to the kitchen where Marc was waiting for her. He had poured her a glass of orange juice and left it on the table. Naomi went straight to the table and sat down. She put both of her hands around the glass and held them there.

  Marc poured boiling water into a cup of instant coffee. He placed the kettle carefully back on its stand and turned around slowly.

  ‘Sit with her,’ I said. ‘Just sit with her.’ To my surprise, he did.

  ‘Talk to her.’

  But he didn’t; he just looked at her.

  I stood where I had a thousand times before between the two people I loved most in the world.

  ‘Naomi.’ I leaned my hands on the back of what used to be my chair and looked at her. ‘Ask your daddy what you want to know.’

  She looked at him.

  Marc watched our daughter through tired eyes. She was staring at the drink she had not touched.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ George asked. He was watching from the doorway to the living room. I waved away his objections and crouched down beside Naomi. She didn’t look up. Maybe she couldn’t see me after all

  I looked at Marc and willed him to speak.

  I had to will him three times

  ‘Do you want to talk about what happened to Mummy?’ he asked

  She remained silent.

  ‘I’m glad you’re home,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Are you glad you’re home?’

  She gave the merest shrug of tiny shoulders.

  He left it at that for a minute or so before proceeding cautiously.

  ‘I understand that you don’t want to talk about what’s happened,’ he said gently, ‘and that’s all right. But do you know what?’ He reached out and tapped her hand. ‘Look at me,’ he said, motioning with his fingers that she should lift her head. ‘Do you know what?’ he repeated. ‘Even though you haven’t told me, I know what you’re scared of.’

  She looked quizzical. Marc reached over and took Naomi’s hands in his. ‘Mummy had to go away and I think that you must be scared that I’m going to go away as well.’

  That never occurred to me. ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’ I looked at George. He shrugged and I turned back quickly to find Marc and Naomi exactly where they had been.

  ‘It’s alright to be scared, Naomi,’ he told her. ‘I’m scared too. Do you know what I’m scared of?’ Naomi shook her eyes rather than her head. ‘I’m scared,’ Marc said slowly, ‘that you could have had to go away too. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d both gone.’

  Naomi’s words were little more than a whisper. ‘Why did she have to go away?’

  I saw the look of surprise in Marc’s eyes as Naomi spoke. I forgave him the hint of a smile that had formed on his lips for the first time in two days.

  ‘She had no choice,’ he said.

  ‘Why?’ Naomi challenged him. ‘Who made her go away?’

  Marc searched his mind for an answer she would understand. ‘I’m not sure, God, I suppose.’

  ‘I hate God.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘It’s not fair,’ I said as George and I walked through park in the afternoon sun.

  ‘And what would that be?’

  ‘This.’ I held my hands out to indicate my body.

  George stopped his gentle stroll and looked at the grass beneath his feet. After a few seconds he looked up. ‘No, it’s not,’ he admitted, ‘but there’s nothing you can do about it.’ He resumed his stroll and I followed him.

  ‘I need to know why it happened.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘What do you mean why?’ My voice was raised and I looked around, hoping the joggers and dog walkers had not heard me. Once again, the realisation hit me like a
brick in the face. ‘What am I worried about?’ I shouted. ‘They can’t hear me.’ I looked around as I screamed. ‘They can’t hear me because I’m dead.’

  George stopped mid-step, turning slowly on his heel. His eyes looked at me from a lowered head. ‘They may not be able to hear you,’ his voice was calm, ‘but I can. And as I’m only three feet away from you,’ he raised his voice, ‘there really is no need to shout.’

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ I asked.

  ‘You nearly burst my eardrum.’

  ‘You’re not being nice to me anymore.’

  ‘Am I not?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you were having a bad time before.’

  ‘And I’m not now?’

  ‘Now it’s just life.’

  I felt my lip start to tremble and tears run down my cheek. George put his arms around me. I sobbed against his chest as people walked past us.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Stop that. Crying’s not going to change anything.’

  ‘I don’t want to be dead,’ I whispered. ‘Why do I have to be dead?’ I got comfort from feeling George’s hand stroke my hair. I was glad he was there. ‘Why did it have to happen?’

  When my sobs had subsided, George gently pushed me away. He looked directly into my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs.

  ‘You will find the answer.’ He put an arm around my shoulder and started to walk, taking me with him. ‘I promise. You will know why.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Always a question,’ he said, trying to smile. ‘You’ll get your answer when the time is right.’

  ‘But when will that be?’ I asked with fresh tears falling down my face.

  I was calm after my outburst. I didn’t know why I was dead but George had convinced me there was a reason, and that I would discover it one of these days. I just hoped it would be worth it.

  We were still in the park but it was getting darker and there were only few people around. Not that people made a difference to us. We had stopped at the top of the hill and watched the streets below.