by Gilli Allan
‘Does everything go to Mum?’
‘Leave it for now. Get today behind us. Family conflab later.’
Chapter Thirty
In Helen’s view there was a protocol to funerals. Imogen was allowed to accompany Piers because they were in a long-term relationship. And she, of course, was accompanied by husband Grant. But Danny was not allowed to have a mere friend accompany him when there were other close relatives, their aunt for instance, who could take that place in the funeral car. Jessica was not prepared to argue the point and it seemed natural, in the circumstances, to offer a lift to James. When they arrived at the church, the flower-covered coffin was set up in the aisle, and the front few rows of seats were already filled with the close family. She and James slotted in next to one another, several rows back.
It was a post-war congregational church – red brick, with little ornamentation. No pews, just fold up removable chairs. The windows were plain glass, and garishly coloured wall-hangings – appliqué abstractions from biblical scenes sewn by members of the congregation – were the only decoration. On the notice board was parish news, details of the cleaning and flower rotas, plus postcards, photos, and newsletters of a sister community in Africa. There was nothing, in short, to distract Jessica’s attention from the hollow, unrelieved ache.
She read through the order of service several times. The hymns were accompanied on a tinny piano, ploddingly played. The congregation was too small to sing with enough gusto to make her want to join in. Though she tried to follow the minister’s words – to find something in them which brought life to the unknown man she was here to mourn – it was hopeless. He was doing his best, she was sure, but his best just wasn’t good enough to illuminate this dreary occasion.
Perhaps she was fidgeting, or sighing, or scratching – even through the lining the heavily textured wool of her suit irritated her skin – but James suddenly laid his hand over hers and squeezed gently. She gave him a small smile and rather than move her hand away she curled her fingers around his.
James had arrived at the house with Imogen, just after they’d eaten as much as they could manage of the food Piers had brought in. Just from the look of Danny’s battered veggie burger Jess was unsurprised he ate little. Imogen had driven down to Gore Farm in the morning and James had driven her Alfa Romeo Spider from there onwards. Several suit carrying cases and overnight bags were unloaded and taken up to the bedrooms which had been allocated. Piers and Imogen in the parents’ room, James in Piers’ old room.
Now, both James and Piers were dressed in the dark business suits and plain dark ties which had been inside those carrying cases. Imogen too was soberly, yet stylishly attired in a black dress and coat and a small brimmed, black hat on her red-brown hair. A reasonably smart but casual black jacket had even been found for Danny. He wore it over one of Piers’ shirts, and a new pair of dark chinos which Piers had bought for him. No trousers James or Piers could lend him would have been slim enough in the hips and waist, or long enough in the leg.
The service was drawing to a close and the pall bearers moved forward down the aisle to carry out the coffin. The front rows filed out after it. Jessica drooped her head and closed her eyes briefly; she couldn’t bear to watch.
Their car had been at the back of the cortege which wound slowly through the countryside from the church, and now, having stopped at the gate for James to light a cigarette, they were amongst the last to walk up the incline through the large cemetery to where the others had gathered. It was cold and the sharp wind which swept across the exposed site was needled with rain. It struck Jess again how odd it was that she was still accompanying James, for all the world like an established couple, when she’d come here for another’s sake. James disposed of the cigarette, less than half smoked, as they arrived at the graveside.
A shock rocked through her, undermining her sense of reality and equilibrium. It was as if she saw Danny for the first time. Her hand flew out and grabbed at James just to steady herself. Misinterpreting the gesture he pulled her arm through his. Danny had the collar of his jacket turned up, his clean shaven face unnaturally pale against the dark frame. His expression and his stance, arms folded tautly across his chest, betrayed far more of the inner turmoil of his feelings than was evident in anyone else.
Perhaps it was just the unfamiliar black jacket, but all at once, it was as if he was older, broader, more substantial; as if recent events had finally kicked him over that boundary into manhood. Jessica’s pulse still raced unaccountably, her breathing constricted. She could endlessly analyse the changes in him, which had gone unappreciated until this precise moment – they’d been sitting side by side up on the hill above the farm only hours before – but could find no explanation for that shattering jolt when her eyes discovered him.
She saw Piers lean towards him and speak. Danny looked up and frowned. Jess followed his gaze. Coming slowly up the path were three women. Two nuns in the head-dresses and uniforms of a nursing order and between them, arms linked, a stooping woman in a dark green coat, with a floss of white hair which haloed her face like a dandelion clock. There were others too, who’d not been in the church. Amongst them a tall man, taller than anyone present, except Danny. He stood with an equally tall woman of a similar age, whose iron grey hair was pulled into a knot at the nape of her neck.
Having spotted him, Jessica’s eyes were drawn back several times. For his age, fifty or more, he was a good-looking man, in a craggy, weather-beaten style. But take away the broadening of the jaw, the deeply drawn expression-lines, the years of exposure to wind and weather, and the likeness was marked. His hair was receding, but it was thick and springy and brushed back from a high forehead in a silvery beige mane. This man was evidently a blood relative, one of Danny’s uncles perhaps. And the other? The fuzzy-haired woman in the green coat? At last Jessica thought she understood Piers’ reference to their ‘cloistered mother’.
The graveside ceremony ended, but the mourners remained for a while, shifting from group to group, shaking hands, renewing old acquaintances. From her vantage point Jessica was surprised to see none of the other family members making their way over to the man she’d identified. Nor did he move in their direction. After a while he did walk over to the woman accompanied by the nuns. She looked up at him suspiciously, she allowed her hand to be grasped but then pulled away. He retreated.
I’ll talk to him and his wife, in the absence of anyone else and make sure they know they’re welcome back at the house, Jess thought. Without a backward glance to James she walked across to the couple who still stood on their own.
‘My name is Jessica Avery. I’m a friend of –’
‘Danny.’ He shook her hand warmly. ‘He’s told me about you. You weren’t hard to spot amongst this crowd, look. This is Jane.’ He indicated the woman at his side. ‘I’m Eddie.’
Another Edward? Probably not the deceased’s brother then.
‘We’re grateful to you,’ Jane said, grasping her hand in turn. What had Danny been saying?
‘Oh? Grateful for what?’
‘For befriending him. Coming here today.’
‘It was no hardship. I was glad to be able to be here for him. By the way, I do hope you’ll come to the house? They’re expecting all the family back.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Eddie said. ‘You’ve got me confused with someone else. We’re not family, just neighbours. Eddie and Jane Earl. Don’t suppose Helen or Pete expect us, look.’ He glanced towards his wife and an unspoken agreement that it was time to go passed between them. They nodded goodbye and moved away. James had followed Jessica and now spoke over her shoulder. It seemed he’d not noticed the striking resemblance.
‘Who are they?’
‘They’re the nearest neighbours. Eddie Earl and his wife, Jane.’
‘Earl? Ah, yes,’ James raised his eyebrows then repeated the name, as if something had just clicked into place. ‘I’ve heard them spoken of … Jane’s not his wife, she’s his sister.’
‘Yes. That’s Constance Bowman. She’s in a nursing home.’
‘I gathered that much, but why?’
‘Hasn’t Danny told you? No. I suppose having a loopy mother is not something you like to broadcast.’
‘What do you mean? She was a deputy head teacher, for heaven’s sake!’
‘Alzheimer’s has no respect for the intellect, sadly. It was diagnosed about five years ago.’
‘When Ted Bowman got out of farming?’
‘He needed a more reliable income to pay for her care. She might have gone into the home five years ago but the condition was coming on for far longer than that, apparently.’
‘And Danny bore the brunt of it,’ Jess said. ‘There’re ten years between him and Helen. To all intents and purposes she left home when he was only eight or nine, to go to university. He was the only child left in the house, no wonder he had a difficult time with his mother.’
‘Wasn’t just the Alzheimer’s.’
‘What do you mean, Jay? What else was going on?’
‘I can’t tell you. It’s not my story.’
‘This isn’t fair. I have an interest in this family. I care about Danny.’
‘I know you do.’
‘I feel like I’m floundering about in the dark here.’
The three siblings had approached the woman in the green coat. She suddenly appeared animated, and her cloud of hair bobbed and bounced. She accepted a hug from Helen and then Piers, but when she came to Danny she stiffened, turned away, and began shuffling in the direction of the exit. The two nuns trotted after her to keep up. Jessica abandoned James again and crossed the intervening ground.
‘Are you all right?’
Danny had been watching the green-clad woman as she made her surprisingly rapid getaway, the two attendants hurrying after. He turned in swift response to Jessica’s voice.
‘Yeah.’ He swallowed and smiled. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Your mother?’
‘You spotted the likeness? Must be the hair.’ Jessica slid her arm under the jacket around his waist, and they moved away from the clumps of people who still lingered by the grave.
‘James just told me. She’s got Alzheimer’s. I didn’t know. It must be very hard for you to have a mother who treats you like a stranger.’
‘She always did, like I was some kind of interloper who didn’t really belong in the family. Piers said she was sickening for years, but …’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know that makes it any easier to accept, look.’
‘I spoke to your neighbours.’
‘Yeah, I saw you talking to Earl. He’s a good bloke. He’s always been a friend to me … so has Jane. Like a second family, a place to escape to.’
‘I could tell they’re fond of you.’
They continued to pace slowly along one of the many walkways that intersected the graves. The warmth of his body permeated through the fabric of the shirt. Without a top coat Jess had grown chilly and she became hyper-aware of this small, yet infinitely seductive focus of heat between them. She stopped walking and looked back, clamping her teeth into her bottom lip. James stood alone, watching them. He now turned away and fumbled in his pocket. Lighting a cigarette he began to follow the drift of other mourners back towards their cars.
‘We’d better get back. It isn’t fair to keep people hanging about in this cold.’ With regret she withdrew her hand.
Over the next few hours Jessica stuck close to Danny’s side; she was introduced to more aunties, uncles, and cousins than she could possibly ever recall. The proceedings grew a great deal jollier than expected. Perhaps it was natural that old friends and relations should enjoy meeting up, and Piers’ largesse with the alcohol helped smooth out the tensions of the occasion. By the time the party was at last breaking up, and the disparate members of the Bowman clan were departing, Jessica was beginning to wish she’d been stronger willed. She and Danny accompanied an elderly aunt and a cousin to the front door. On their way through the hall the aunt turned to her daughter.
‘Who did you say he was, Sand?’ she asked, without lowering her voice.
‘Your nephew Danny, Mum. Connie’s youngest.’
‘Oooh! I didn’t recognise him. Danny did you say? Where are his woolly pigtails?’
‘I’ve had them cut off, Aunty,’ Danny said loudly, as he walked them from the house to their car. Flo’s voice drifted back.
‘So who’s that girl, then? Someone should tell her she’s got cress stuck on her nose!’
Jessica sat down on the stairs, leant her head against the Newel post, and began to laugh. James emerged into the hall from the sitting room, where the majority of the party was still gathered.
‘What are you laughing at?’
‘Relatives! I’ve just said goodbye to Aunty Flo and cousin Sandra. They’re about to head back to their own little twig on the family tree.’
‘Ho ho. I’m about to ring Gilda. Have you made up your mind?’
‘About?’
‘Life, the universe, and everything! What do you think?’
‘Just a minute. I know the answer to that one. Forty-two!’
‘Are you driving home tonight? If you are, you can give me a lift, if you’re stopping then so am I. And I’ll hitch a lift with you or Imo in the morning.’
‘You don’t care which?’
‘I’d be taking Imo out of her way a tad, so you’re probably favourite.’
‘I’m honoured. But a please and thank you would be especially nice?’
‘Please and thank you. It would have simplified matters for me if she’d agreed to travel down in the Land Rover, but she wouldn’t, so I’m stuck.’
‘You didn’t have to come together. You could have brought two cars.’
‘I know you think Danny is the paragon of all things eco-friendly, which must make me, being the villain of this melodrama, the opposite, a rabid despoiler of our green and pleasant land. In reality I am well aware of my responsibilities to society and the environment. I recycle. And I share a car journey when it makes sense.’
‘Well done, that man!’ Jessica said.
James looked at her critically. ‘On second thoughts, I don’t think you ought to drive back tonight. I suspect you’ve drunk at least as much as me. You’d better stop over.’
The front door was pushed opened and Danny re-entered the house. The white shirt was damp across his shoulders and there were droplets of rain on his hair. His look flicked from one to the other in enquiry.
‘We’ve decided Jessica’d better take up the offer to stay tonight, so I’m sorry Dan, that means there’s only one other available bed. Fight you for it!’
Danny looked thoughtful, as if considering a serious proposition. ‘I don’t mind the sofa. You probably need the bed more than me. Age before –’
James’ eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve been getting a bit fucking uppity since you turned twenty, Daniel Bowman.’
For the first time since he’d shared a bath with Rory Jess saw an unconstrained grin on Danny’s face.
Few guests remained, now. Helen had begun, ostentatiously, to clear away. She stalked back and forth from dining room to kitchen and energetically clattered the dishes.
‘I’ll help,’ Jessica offered, and lurching only very slightly, jumped up and joined her in the kitchen. Danny offered his help, but Helen sent him away, instructing him to get rid of the hangers on.
‘How am I supposed to do that, Hel?’
‘I don’t know! How about giving them your theories on the imperialism of corporate global capitalism?’
At last the plates and dishes were packed away in a carton for Grant to load into their car. And the only glasses not washed and returned to the box were those still clamped in people’s hands in the sitting room. Jessica resumed her position at the bottom of the stairs. Still in th
e kitchen with Piers, Helen grew increasingly agitated and short tempered.
‘What’s up, Hel old love?’ he enquired. ‘Pre-menstrual? Leave the rest. Ray and Sheila off soon enough. Giving Aunty Rose a lift.’
‘But it’s getting late and I wanted to talk about the will. Before I go! This evening!’
‘What’s to talk about? You don’t like it, but wishes made fucking plain. Can’t argue.’
‘What about Mum? Her share of the property?’
‘He had power of attorney.’
‘But surely that’s lapsed with his death? Can’t the provisions of the will be challenged?’
‘Farm inherited. Mother’s name not on deeds. Dispose of it as he wanted, far as I know. Not like she’s un-provided for. We didn’t know about the insurance. But there’s plenty, properly invested, to see her out. Don’t worry about Mother!’
‘I’m not worried about Mother, I’m worried about me. I thought at the very least the property would be shared.’
‘I don’t fucking want any of it!’
‘You might not, but … Danny! Why’s he left it all to Danny? What’s he going to do with it?’
As the voices rose in the kitchen Danny came out into the hallway. Perhaps he’d heard his name. His eyes met Jessica’s briefly.
‘Come on, Hel! Be fair! You know how Dad felt about this place. He knew Danny loved it. He’s the only one who’s followed in Dad’s footsteps, who’s got a feeling for the land. And he’s the only one who hasn’t got any-fucking-thing else!’
‘But can you imagine? Daniel? Trying to cope with running a farm … on his own! Farmers with bloody honours degrees in agriculture can’t make a living out of farming these days!’
‘What did you think was going to happen?’
‘I thought he’d leave it to you and me. Then it could be sold and the money split.’
‘I don’t need it!’
‘I bloody do!’
James had now come out into the hallway. He shut the door firmly behind him. Danny was standing transfixed, eyes on the half open kitchen door.