Death and Faxes

by Julie Howlin

  I wasn’t looking forward to the day at all, in fact, I was dreading it. Mum would be in a state all day, playing the hysterical grieving daughter, even though they’d never seen eye to eye. That would make my little sister Amber miserable and fractious. Caroline would boss everyone around, especially me. There would be a bevy of ancient relatives who would look disapprovingly at my outfit and ask whether I was ‘courting’ yet. I could answer a definite yes this time, but they might ask why he hadn’t come to the funeral and how he’d been comforting me through this terrible time. Daniel didn’t even know yet that my gran was dead.

  Simon had come over with the car and a large bottle of vodka. We had drunk far too much, but Simon is such fun when he’s tipsy, and he had made me laugh so much that it took my mind off things and I almost forgot why he was there. The down side was that I woke up hung-over and had to dose myself up with painkillers before I left the flat.

  First I had to find something to wear. The one good thing about working in telephone support is that we are not expected to be suited and booted every day and so I can get away with smart casual. I tend to wear bright colours and my wardrobe is a riot of colour. All I could find in black was a dress which I had bought in a fit of madness because I had it in my head that any self-respecting psychic must wear black. It was calf length, rather more low-cut than was probably respectable for an event like this, but I did have a black knitted shawl I could drape around myself to disguise the fact. The sleeves were long and had raggedy edges which tended to dangle in food. I was not sure which would draw the most disapproving looks from my rellies - that dress, or turning up in something of a more conservative design in purple or red. I hadn’t had the time or inclination to go shopping, so those were the choices. I decided in the end to wear the black. Everyone else would be in black so I would at least blend in.

  The next task was to go to the supermarket for the drink. I bought a box of white, a box of red, a bottle of cider, a couple of six packs of beer, some coke and lemonade and two bottles of fizzy water to keep Caroline quiet. I was so wound up afterwards that I did something I had not done for a long time. I stopped at the cigarette counter and bought a pack of ten.

  I parked up a couple of streets away from the house, smoked three, then stuffed the packet into a dark corner of the glove compartment and drove the final leg of the journey with the window down. Once the funeral was all over, I'd give up again.

  I drew up outside my childhood home and popped a mint in my mouth, not a moment too soon. Caroline was standing at the gate wearing a smart black suit and looking at her watch. I got out of the car and she came up and air kissed me on both sides. ‘You get the drink? Good. People have started arriving already. I'll send David out to help.’

  David is Caroline's boyfriend. He’s a nice guy. I don’t know what he sees in Caroline. He helped me carry the drink inside and put it on the table. Caroline sauntered in, took one look and commented, ‘You’ve got far too much alcohol, Tabitha. I told you, people won’t want to drink. They might have one glass of sherry - you mean you didn’t buy any sherry? One bottle of white and one of red would have been ample, and nobody’s going to drink beer. Oh, and two bottles of fizzy water won’t be enough.’

  ‘If people don’t drink it, then I’ll take it home,’ I said.

  ‘What, and drink it all by yourself? Are you an alcoholic, Tabitha?’

  ‘Well, actually, I could do with a beer,’ David said. He opened a can and held another out to me. I took it, pulled the ring and took a swig. Caroline stalked off.

  I drank the beer, probably a little too quickly, and, ditching my outdoor coat, went to find my mother. She was talking to my Great-Auntie Ada, both of them dabbing their eyes. Mum turned to look at me, and said, ‘Oh, my dear, what on earth are you wearing?’

  Caroline, who was passing by carrying a plate of sandwiches, looked me up and down. ‘Tabitha, if you didn’t have anything suitable to wear, you should have called me. I’m sure I could have loaned you one of my work skirts, or given you some money to buy an outfit for yourself.’

  ‘She looks all right,’ croaked Great-Auntie Ada, to my surprise. I was about to revise my opinion of her when she added, ‘You courtin’ yet?’

  ‘Sort of,’ I said, and beat a hasty retreat into the front room, where I could be alone for a while. I was surprised to see, on a coffee table in the corner, Gran’s velvet cloth, carefully folded, her Tarot pack and crystal ball sitting on top.

  I was surprised to see it here. I couldn’t resist sitting down in front of it and running my hand over its cool, smooth surface. Then I sat and looked into it. I wasn’t trying to see anything, because I’d given up trying many years ago, knowing it wasn’t one of my gifts. No, because it was beautiful and reminded me of Gran. As I looked my eyes went out of focus and my mind went blank. It was then I imagined I saw a mist swirling inside the ball, shifting like a cloud in the sky, until it took shape. It was the shape of a swan. I stared at it, not really comprehending what I was seeing.

  ‘Oh, here you are, Tabitha,’ Caroline’s voice jolted me back to reality. ‘What are you doing hiding in here? Mummy’s looking for you.’

  ‘I’ll be right there,’ I said. I looked back at the crystal. The mist was gone, although it felt as if it had seeped into my brain and fogged it all up. I was feeling quite groggy. I might have put it down to tiredness, emotional strain and the beer if I had not recognised the feeling.

  Once, at group, Jonathan had us practising going into a trance. I’d never been entirely comfortable with that, but seeing as ‘unwillingness to participate fully in group sessions’ was another reason a person might be asked to leave, I’d gone along with it. I didn’t really think anything would happen, but I’d started to get that same fogged up feeling. I’d recognised what was probably happening, and because I didn't feel safe, I’d freaked out a bit and resisted, pretending afterwards that I hadn't experienced anything.

  This time it had crept up on me unawares. I hadn’t been expecting it or thinking about it, and it didn’t feel so scary this time. Alone, and with no one to judge my experience, I let myself drift. Who knows where I might have ended up if Dad hadn't walked in and said, ‘Car’s here,’ jolting me back to reality.

  Gran called herself spiritual rather than religious, but had a great respect for God, the historical Jesus and the Virgin Mary, and for the good works churches did, but most of all, the ritual. Hence she had opted for a church service. I remember it being quite beautiful and being moved to tears by the hymns and readings, and that the church was full. My grandmother had been more loved and respected than even I had realised.

  There was a sizeable crowd at the graveside, too. I looked around at all the faces and marvelled at how many of them I simply did not recognise. There must have been at least fifty or sixty people I had never set eyes on before. I thought I knew all Gran's family and friends. Clearly, I had actually met only a small fraction.

  Then I saw him. Most of the people around the grave were middle-aged to elderly and mostly women, so a young guy in a leather jacket was rather noticeable. He stood alone, or as alone as it was possible to be in the midst of this crowd. He had pale blond hair and an unruly fringe, which he kept having to brush out of his eyes. He looked to be in his late twenties. How did someone like him know Gran? Was he some distant relative I’d never met? Even though his eyes were lowered in respect, I could see he was stunning to look at. I looked at his hands, noticing that the third finger on his left hand was bare, although he wore a ring on his right thumb.

  I forced myself to look away. This was a funeral, not a school disco. Besides, I already had a boyfriend.

  I didn’t look at anyone except the priest after that. When he'd done the ashes to ashes and dust to dust bit, Mum and Caroline and I each threw a red rose into the grave, and then moved away to leave Gran in peace.

  I looked up when I heard the cawing of crows, watching a flock of them settle in the tall trees by the cemetery wall. Gran used
to say crows were symbols of death. I was transfixed by them as I followed the rest of the mourners towards the tall, concrete pillars of the cemetery gates. The path was covered in wet autumn leaves, but I paid no attention to them until I felt my feet sliding from under me. For a horrible, slowed-down second, I knew I was going to fall bum over tip in front of all of these people, and that a fair proportion of them would tut-tut and comment on what impractical footwear these young people today insisted on wearing.

  Instead, I heard a soft voice in my ear say, ‘Oops!’ and felt a firm, steadying grip on my arm.

  Instead of falling onto my bottom, I was leaning on the young man in the leather jacket - and met his eyes. They were green, and kind. ‘Thanks,’ I whispered. He smiled.

  I'd been holding it together all week, and this was the moment my grief refused to be stifled any longer. His face began to blur, and I knew if I stayed there a second longer I was going to be sobbing into his shoulder and getting snot all over his nice new jacket. I hastily excused myself and went to find my mum.

  Dad, Caroline, Amber and even David came and joined us and we had a family hug and a good cry. I felt closer to my family then than I ever had.

  Back at the house, I looked for the man in the leather jacket, so I could apologise for being such an idiot, but there was no sign of him. I even asked Mum if she knew who he was, but she said she hadn't seen him. Nobody seemed to have the slightest idea who he was or had even noticed him. It left me wondering whether he had been an angel or a spirit that Gran had helped cross over into the light. But he’d said ‘Oops,’ in a very human voice; I’d heard it with my ears. Angels can’t talk. They say you hear them in your mind, not with your ears. A spirit couldn’t have physically grabbed me the way he did to stop me from falling. He had to be an actual, living human being. Someone Gran had known. I supposed I'd never know. Serve me right for eyeing up men at a funeral when I already had a boyfriend.

  I had to mingle, making polite conversation with people about Gran. I was pleased to see that people did drink the wine and the beer. The white wine actually ran out, while only half a bottle of fizzy water was consumed. The rare but satisfying knowledge that I was right and Caroline was wrong took me right back to my childhood. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, boy, did I feel smug. Eventually only close family were left, and a few persistent neighbours. One burly man was loudly recounting a tale involving Gran and a lawnmower while a small knot of others listened politely.

  I noticed Amber, sagging against Mum’s arm, her eyes half closed, and thought what an exhausting, long day it must have been for her.

  ‘So I came in and had a look at it,’ the burly man went on, waving a half-eaten sausage roll. ‘I pulled the chord and it started first time!’ His audience laughed politely.

  Amber suddenly sat bolt upright, her eyes wide open, staring at something in the corner of the front room, next to the table where the crystal ball still lay. People saw her movement and turned to look at her.

  Amber tugged at Mum’s sleeve, and said, ‘Mummy, I thought you said Granny had gone to heaven and will never come back.’

  ‘I did say that, dear. That’s quite true.’

  ‘So how come she’s standing over there in the corner?’ Amber demanded.

  I felt a shiver run down my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck prickling. I looked at the corner myself, but could see nothing.

  ‘She’s not standing in the corner, darling, I think you fell asleep just then and dreamed she was there.’

  ‘No, Mummy, I’m awake now and she’s still there!’

  ‘Like I said,’ Mum glanced around at the rest of the party, who were staring at them. ‘Amber is very tired. It’s well past time she was in bed. Her imagination is a bit over-active.’

  ‘Yes, well, I think we’d better make a move,’ lawnmower man said, hauling himself to his feet and dragging his rather mousy wife with him. ‘Time we weren’t here.’

  In a minute or so, the room was empty apart from Mum, Caroline, Amber and me. Mum swept Amber up in her arms and said, ‘Say goodnight to your sisters, Amber. You didn’t really see Granny. You are very tired and being really tired can make you imagine things. You didn’t see anything. It was a dream. Come along.’

  I was left alone with Caroline. ‘I suppose you’ll be saying you saw her next,’ she said.

  ‘Well, I didn’t,’ I said.

  ‘Thank God for that,’ Caroline said. ‘I hope Amber isn’t going to turn into a weirdo like you.’

  I’d had quite enough of Caroline by then. There was a time I’d have slapped her for that remark, but I’m calmer these days. Nevertheless, I just wanted to get away from her. ‘I must go too,’ I said. ‘I have to feed my cat.’ I turned on my heel and made for the door.

  ‘Oh, Tabitha, wait a second,’ Caroline called after me. I stopped, but did not turn around. ‘I’m sorry, that was a mean thing to say.’ It was the first time I’d ever heard Caroline apologise for anything in my entire life, so I turned round to show I was willing to accept it. ‘Before you go, I have to give you something.’ She beckoned to me, and picked up the crystal ball, tarot cards and cloth. ‘Mum thought Gran would like you to have these. They’re not a lot of use to anyone else.’

  I wasn’t sure whether to be insulted by her words or not, but thanked her and took Gran’s possessions and carried them carefully out to Simon’s car.

  On the drive home I was terrified I would have to brake sharply and that the ball would roll off the seat and shatter. I silently appealed to whichever angels might be listening to help me get it home intact. They must have been listening, because the following morning it was sitting in my meditation corner, challenging me to look into it again and let myself be drawn into whatever it had to show me. Not today, I thought. I’ve too much to think about.

  First of all Amber. I was certain she hadn’t been dreaming. She had the gift. Gran was there, in spirit, and Amber had seen her. Only Gran was not there to explain it all to Amber as she had been for me. Amber would have her visions crushed by Mum and Caroline and dismissed as imagination or funny dreams until she lost her gift altogether. If she remembered today at all, she would convince herself she was in fact dreaming, just as Mum had said. What a waste.

  ‘It doesn’t have to be,’ I heard a voice say, in my mind.

  But there’s no one to teach her like Gran taught me, I mentally shot back.

  ‘Of course there is, Tabitha. You’re forgetting someone.’

  There’s no one else in our family apart from me.

  ‘Exactly,’ came the voice in my head.

  You can’t be serious! Me? I couldn’t - I’m not as good as Gran.

  ‘Not as experienced, perhaps, but more so than Amber is.’

  He was right, of course. He was always right. It was about time I got to know my younger sister. Would Mum even consider leaving Amber alone with me? She was never keen on leaving me alone with Gran. I supposed I could ask if Amber could come and visit me. Mum might be glad of an extra babysitter.

  The other thing was, I couldn’t help but be a little jealous and upset that Amber had seen Gran and I, despite having the gift, did not. It meant one of two things. One, Amber’s gift was much more raw and powerful than mine could ever be, which made the prospect of mentoring her even more of an awesome responsibility. Or two, Gran was angry with me because I wasn’t there when she passed and had purposely appeared to Amber and not to me. My eyes filled with tears.

  12 girls’ night out

  Jess met me at the station with a pub in mind that she had been to on a date. ‘Only five stops away,’ she said. ‘Almost on your way home.’ I didn’t really mind where we went. It was just nice to have a night out with my best friend.

  When I saw the pub, the King’s Arms, I had a real bad feeling about it before I even set foot inside. It seemed dark and forbidding somehow. I didn't want to upset Jess, so I followed her through the door. The atmosphere made me feel quite uncomfortable, but I trie
d to ignore the feeling. I settled at a table while Jess went to buy the drinks. I looked around, trying to put a finger on why the ambience seemed so oppressive, but with my physical eyes, I could see nothing amiss. A few customers were sitting at other tables and a handful were standing at the bar. I didn’t get really bad vibes from any individual, not even the drunk who was conversing loudly with the barman. I could tell the barman was on the verge of telling the drunk to leave when he noticed Jess and moved away to serve her.

  The decor was shabby, but not excessively so. I’d seen much worse. I really could not work out what was making me uneasy, and decided I was being over-sensitive. I supposed I could open up psychically and see what came, but was afraid I’d see something really nasty and draw its attention to me. I tried to relax and people-watch. A man in a grey suit walked over to the jukebox and put some money in. The strains of T Rex singing Ride a White Swan blared out. Swans again.

  Jess came back with two glasses of wine. I sipped mine while pretending to listen to her raving about her new man. I couldn’t help scanning the other customers to see if any of them was the source of my unease. Then I saw her.

  She was wearing a black lace see through top, black bra underneath, and a calf length skirt. She disturbed me. She looked very pale and quite ill. There were dark shadows under her eyes and her lank hair hung to her shoulders like greasy rats tails. Her eyes were red - I was sure she was crying as she walked quickly across the room towards the women’s toilets, disappearing through the door just as another woman came out.

  This woman was also very striking in a completely different way. She was tall and slim with platinum blonde hair styled in a sleek bob. The blonde oozed confidence. She walked across the room, glancing around as if looking for someone. When she didn't see the person she was looking for, she went to the bar, ordered a couple of beers and sat at a table by herself, casually flicking at a smartphone. Now and again she would look up to see if her date had arrived, then turn back to her phone with an unconcerned air. I envied that. I was still never sure, when I arranged to meet Daniel anywhere, whether he would actually turn up and I would be always checking my watch and tapping my feet, not feeling comfortable on my own, certain everyone was thinking I’d been stood up. Daniel always did show, mind you, even if he was sometimes late, so in time, perhaps I’d be like this woman, too.