James and the Changing Red

by J W Cotter

James continued to stare up at the ceiling as the room slowly began to lighten; the morning creeping in through the dark curtains. He yawned a long yawn and turned his back to the approaching day and pulled the duvet over his tired body. Having put his mother to bed in the early hours of the morning James found himself too energised to sleep; his mind kept racing about the blissful future that was on the horizon. Soon there would be no more Hamlet, no more bullies and he wasn’t even upset that there possibly could be no more Dad. The night had gotten away from James as he fantasised about places they could live, places they could visit and things they could do, things that his father would utterly disapprove of, for instance going to a music festival. His mother adored music festivals and longed to share the experience with her son but Jack never allowed it, he deemed it inappropriate for his son. But his deeming would soon be something of the past, a horrid past.

  Finally his mind seemed to slow and his eyes began to gently close and sleep had come, albeit rather ill-timed. No sooner than had he closed his eyes could he hear the rummaging of the bathroom cabinet and the dropping of containers to the tiled floor, his mother was up and apparently now a klutz. Water ran loudly and then abruptly stopped, an aid to the swallowing of a pills. He kept his eyes closed and tried willing himself back to sleep but it was pointless, as his mother left the bathroom she softly knocked on his door.

  “Time to get up for school” she whispered through the door. James’ brow furrowed and suddenly he felt like kicking and pounding the mattress in frustration. How could she possibly expect him to go to school today? For a moment he thought of ignoring the call, pretending he hadn’t heard it but every instinct in his body told him to get out of bed. Now was not the time to be upsetting his mother, he was certain she would never leave him behind when she goes but would she be willing to face a sure to be bloody battle against Jack over custody if James suddenly became difficult. It was best to play it safe and so James reluctantly pulled himself from the comfort of his bed and even though he was still in his uniform, it was best to change, even though the bullies would still find something else to mock. A cloud of deodorant lingered in the centre of the room and when he opened his curtains the mist of the strong smelling scent danced in the light before dissipating when the window was thrown open. With only a new shirt James had to make do with the same blazer and pair of trousers and hope there was no smell or stain on either and as he rummaged under his bed through piles of shoes anger swelled within as he remembered how his new runners walked away. Black boots that had had better days were the choice; well they were the only pair he could get his hands on and with the time creeping on he had to get going if he was going to make the bus. The toilet was the first stop and once finished gelling his hair and flattening it down so much that his eyes could barely be seen he unlocked the door and there stood his mother waiting. Still in her dressing gown and looking particularly worse for wear, the drinks last night clearly taking their toll and she had forgotten to wash off her make-up so her face reminded James of nothing else but a Panda.

  “Sweetheart I really wished you’d stop doing that to your hair, you have such a handsome face it is a shame to hide it” she said parting his bangs and cupping his cheek.

  “I like it this way, its better” he replied placing the hair back the way it was. “Why do I have to go to school, I want to stay here with you?”

  “Sweetheart I need you to go to school, I need you not to be here today because today isn’t going to be easy and some things are going to be said that are not for your ears” she explained pinching his ear.

  “I could just go for a walk” he said.

  “Honey I’m afraid there isn’t a walk long enough” James rolled his eyes in annoyance, well he did, his mother couldn’t really see them so he sighed as well. “How about this, you go to school and on your way home stop off at a travel agents and pick up some brochures, you and me will get away for a little while”

  “We can just look on the internet”

  “No, no, no lets get some brochures, some fancy ones that we can leave around the village, show them we’re getting out of this little nightmare Hamlet” she replied. Her hatred for the place was obviously stemming from Jack and his mistress; she never had a huge problem with the place before.

  “Okay Mom” he said and as he kissed her on the cheek she placed a crisp note in his hand.

  “Get some breakfast in town, and maybe lunch and dinner too” she said smiling before turning and going back to her room and just before closing the door shut she whispered “I love you”. James replied in kind and then headed down the stairs opening the palm of his hand as he went to reveal a crisp fifty-pound note. That would get him a lot of food. His backpack was still in the hall from the night before and so grabbing it and placing it on his back he headed out the door shouting goodbye as he went. Outside the morning was grey and cold and miserable, just like any other English morning and so pulling up his hood, nestling the ear-buds into his ears and lowering his head James walked down the road to the bus-stop. This morning, unlike yesterday, he would have to get the same bus as most the other students who lived in the country-side but only one or two went to his school, still though where there were students there were possible bullies and James had come to the understanding they had a sixth sense for vulnerable victims. Luckily however many older people were on the bus and so as James climbed on with the rest he managed to find a spot by a window and a large burly man sat next to him his large frame pushing James closer to the glass. Another barrier he thought to himself as he turned the music up louder so as to deter the fourth barrier from attempting to start a conversation. The bus rattled and shook as it started back on its journey to Harlington and James glanced out the window thinking about the places where they could go on holiday. Not even five minutes on the bus had passed when James spotted a familiar car making its way towards them, heading for Hamlet. It was his Dad and as it zoomed passed James stared in to see a stern Jack driving and a woman in the passenger seat. Immediately he wanted to stop the bus and get out and try and run back home to be with his mother, she was alone whereas Jack was not. But in order to do that he would have to cause somewhat of scene and even though he wanted nothing more than to go home, the self-esteem required was something he greatly lacked. A text message was the only thing to do; at least it would be a warning, so that his mother could prepare herself for battle. He knew she would never forgive herself if the other woman saw her looking like a Panda and smelling like a brewery. The text didn’t send, and another one didn’t send. He tired ringing but her phone was switched off, there was no way of warning her, no way of sending his support, no way of doing anything. The rest of the bus journey was filled with scenarios playing out in his over-active mind with his overly imaginative imagination. So many scenarios in fact he didn’t even realise it when the bus came to a halt at his destination. For a moment he thought about staying on the bus and allowing it to bring him back to Hamlet but then he suddenly remembered what his mother had said, she wanted him to go to school, and she wanted him out of the way. Obeying his mother was something he always did but somehow today a part of him felt like being a little reckless, she wanted him to go to school and she wanted him out of the house. He could do one without doing the other, after all he may not be staying in the school and so a skipped day would matter very little to him now. So breathing a deep breath James made the decision not to go to school but instead spend what could be one of his last full days in Harlington wandering.

  The first port of call was a small little café nestled in between tall multi-storey buildings that had more windows than people. The place was packed full, every seat and every table crammed with suits and briefcases while others queued at the counter for the take-away service. Forgetting that it was still half an hour to nine, everyone was getting their last morsels of food until lunch-time but James had no such rush so he turned on his heels and walked along the streets just going with the flow of people. Stoppi
ng at a pedestrian crossing James waited with everyone else for the little green man to appear and as he was waiting he spied an internet café over the road, it was opened and it looked empty, not surprising seeing as most people had the internet in the palm of their hand these days. James took a computer in the darkest corner of the café and relaxed into the large comfortable leather swirl seat.

  “Morning hun what can I get you?” a young woman asked. James couldn’t hear her as the music was still blaring in his ears and she wasn’t one to be delicate so she kicked the chair and gestured to him to take out the headphones. “Great now that I have your attention, what can I get you?” she said again while chewing a piece of gum. Luminous red cheeks had made a rather unwelcome appearance on James face and he timidly said his order and with that she was gone and moments later the computer was unlocked and he was free to search the internet. By the time the waitress returned with his breakfast bap and cup of tea he had already visited Spain, Portugal, a couple of islands off Greece and even Norway for some strange reason. While hungrily devouring his breakfast he ventured further, Morocco, Egypt, Iran and even Iraq. These he knew his mother would love for the history and varied cultures, James loved them as they were places his father wouldn’t. Reading all about the different places and scrolling through hundreds of photos James didn’t realise the time go by, it wasn’t until his stomach started to rumble again did he realise it was almost two in the afternoon. “Want lunch?” the young woman abruptly asked as this time she flicked one of the headphones out of James’ ear. Again flushed and flustered James blurted ham and cheese sandwich. “Drink?” she asked.

  “Coke” was the barely audible reply.

  “I hope you have money for all this” she queried, rather lately. James just showed her the fifty-pound note before putting it back in his pocket. It seemed to satisfy her and she was gone again. A dreaded beeping sound interrupted the current song playing in his ears and it signalled the dying battery of his MP3 player. Luckily for him he carried the charger with him wherever he went and so discreetly he plugged it in and began to charge the device. The only problem was that he was unable to listen to it while it charged, but for fear of being without one of his barriers he left the headphones in and pretended the music was still flowing, he even nodded his head along with the “music” when the woman returned with his food, a rather uninspired looking sandwich with a few cheese and onion crisps placed on the side. The can of coke was warm and there was no glass or straw accompanying it, but James was not one to complain, in fact he was barely one to say anything so he opened the drink and took a sip and squirmed. The side of the can declared “best served ice cold” and it was right, room temperature did it no favours but it had its usefulness, washing down the almost stale bread and funny tasting cheese. Careful to keep an eye on the time, James did not want to miss the bus home to Hamlet and have to wait an agonising extra hour and a half for the next one. So as the minutes quickly ticked on James ticked out of the internet and picked up his bag and headed for the counter by the door. The girl was gone and in her place was a rather dishevelled young man. In his mid-twenties he had numerous piercings and a silly looking beard that unfortunately only wanted to appear in patches.

  “Twenty-four pounds seventy pence” he said in a long drawn out droll. His manner was exactly like the girl; James presumed it must have been a necessary requirement to get a job here. Settling his bill and with a half an hour to spare before school finished and another quarter of an hour to get the bus James wandered along the streets of the town listening to his newly charged MP3 player while keeping his eyes firmly on the pavement until it came to an end and there was a pedestrian crossing. Pressing the button first and then lifting his eyes in anticipation for the green man to appear James’ eyes landed on a shop window, one he completely forgot he should have visited. He had so much fun looking through the various places to go on holiday that he had forgotten to print anything to show his mother, a picture would always sway more than words. Ten minutes before school was finished and twenty-five minutes before the bus, he had time to pop inside and pick up a handful of brochures. With the green man flashing James and a few other people crossed the road and as they went about their business James came to a stop at the travel agent’s window. There were a lot of posters on the window of last minute sun-holiday deals, most of them for a week and only one for a fortnight, not long enough James thought to himself as he glanced at another couple of posters higher up. Reading about a cruise leaving in three days James’ felt a pair of eyes on him and as he looked in a small space of the window which was poster-free he saw a man in the reflection staring intently at him. A shiver suddenly ran down his back and then James became very, very cold. It was like his blood was turning to slush and his bones ice. The entire sensation lasted mere seconds and the cold started to subside but it was enough for James to lose concentration; and the person who was staring at him. Trying to shake off the event he decided not to venture into the travel agency and instead hurried for the bus, hoping the increased speed would give a little warmth to his still warming body.

  Being a little early James thought it best not to ramble too far away from the bus stop and instead just waited patiently, leaning against a wall with all his barriers firmly in place. Students from his school eventually started to walk pass him, but they were students in different years, he was nothing to them. A little bit of happiness arrived when James saw the bus coming along the road before any students he knew happened upon him and so when the brakes screeched to a halt he climbed aboard waving his card and heading for the empty seats near the back he slumped in to one and buried his head in his schoolbag. It wasn’t long until the bus was back in motion and there was another bit of happiness, no one from his school got on the bus, they obviously had better plans this evening than to go home. James didn’t care, he was going home to his mother and they were going to spend the evening and possibly the night deciding where to travel to with no country off limits. He pulled his head out of his bag and looked at the town and smiled, this might be the last time he ever saw the place and its people because for all he knew his mother could have their bags packed and waiting for him with passports in hand. It was an utter fantasy but it could be true, he had heard that in times of great heartbreak people do the strangest things, running away was one of them and he would happily run anywhere with her.

  Eventually James saw the oh too familiar green fields and hedges that led to Hamlet and soon the bus came to a rattling stop at the wobbly wooden bus shelter and he along with a handful of others disembarked. Not one to hang around he made a beeline for home and as he walked up the narrow lane toward the looming large forest he smiled as he thought this could be one of the last times he would walk up this lane and see that forest. Lifting his head for only a few seconds he took in a deep breath and then lowering it again he continued on his journey and then his house came into view. Immediately he stopped, there was something wrong. The driveway had one car, his father’s. Quickly muting the music he took out his phone he tried calling his Mom, there was no answer. He tried again, and again and again but still nothing. He tried to text a message but his hands would not allow it, they kept trembling. Entering the house without his mother inside was something James could not comprehend. He loved his father as any son was supposed to but now that love was waning and hatred simmered. He decided it best to return the way he came and take the next bus back into town, there he would wait for his mother to call, to call and tell him to come home. Just as he was turning he could hear the rumble of an engine so lifting his eyes once more he saw coming up the lane toward him was a red hatchback car. Shock rifled James to the very core.

  The stomach was the first to react, it churned for a few seconds and then it voiced its anguish, vomit filled the boy’s mouth and with nowhere else to go he turned to the ditch and liberated it, the greenery got a quite generous soaking. Others followed in their expression of woe. In the throws of the sudden sorrow the lungs
struck second, refusing to expand and retract and the breathing slowed before eventually stopping. Showing the utmost solidarity, the eyes and the ears ceased to operate, and so James was left in a dark silent world and as his head lightened his knees weakened and he found himself falling to the ground and into unconsciousness.

  He woke in the living room alone and disorientated and for a brief wonderful second he had no idea how he had come to be there. Then the Vicar entered the room with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits and James could feel his body begin to let go again.

  “Drink the tea James, it will be good for the shock” he said placing the hot cup in his trembling hands. “Go on take a quick sip”. James did as he was told and just about managed to get the cup to his lips without all of its contents spilling out on to the carpet. The Vicar was right, the tea with its copious amounts of sugar, did seem to quell his body’s desire to breakdown. “Eat a biscuit, the chocolate ones would be best” he added lifting the plate to ease the retrieval. Again doing as he was told he took the biscuit and again the Vicar was right, the crunching drowned out the shouts of sorrow for albeit a brief moment. As he swallowed the last part of the biscuit James suddenly remembered that nobody told him what had happened, yes his Dad’s car was in the drive but he couldn’t see him in the living room, he couldn’t hear him and his Dad was always heard. Being in the police force there was greater chance he was the one. For a couple of moments hope, then just as quickly as it emerged it was quashed when James heard the undeniable voice of his father coming from the kitchen. “James you know why I’m here, your mother is dead” the Vicar bluntly announced. It was official. He knew, then for a few brief fleeting moments he was hopeful, and finally confirmation. Life would never be the same again and with that harrowing thought James calmly placed the cup on the table and with the blankest of expressions climbed the stairs softly to his room and closed the door.

  He was not aware of it but two days passed and he didn’t even know if he had slept or not, the crying was tiring but then the constant grief confused him. The room was stuffy and smelt of sweat, tears, urine and rotting food that was left on the tray the night it happened. That night his father tried to talk to him to offer some sort of condolence but James refused to listen, he refused to look at him and once he left the room he summoned all the strength his unnourished and exhausted body could muster and pushed everything that could be pushed in front of the door. His bathroom had become a bin although his body had little to waste, it was holding on to every piece of nutrient remaining as James continued his aversion to food and water. Turning over in his bed he flipped the pillow for the cooler side underneath and rested his face, a terrible red from all the crying, sleep was nearing.

  The fourth day brought with it a refreshing sleep, one that lasted well into the fifth day and James woke to the sound of car doors banging. There had been many visitors to the house, none of course he cared enough to leave the confines of his room and interact with his father but today he found his feet falling to the floor and making their way to the closed window. Peering outside his eyes squinted at first as the sun was shining brightly but when they came back to focus he saw a large luxurious expensive black car in the driveway. Finally she had arrived, the one person left in his world that James could actually talk to. Seconds later she was at his door softly rapping her elderly knuckles on the wood.

  “My darling James” she whispered through the door. “How about you come out of there and let me take care of you?” For a moment James thought of nothing more than yanking everything away from the door and embracing the woman on the other side and never letting her go, but the moment passed and leaving his room meant returning to the real world, a world where his mother did not belong to anymore. So to his bed he did return to again and pulling the duvet over his head he began to sob again, wetting the nearly dry pillow.

  Finally the day arrived that he had to get out of his bed, out of his room and out into the world, the world without his mother. Slowly and with great difficultly his fragile arms dragged the barriers from the door and just as the last one made entry possible she was the first one through. Tall and statuesque like she immediately embraced James, wrapping her wide sleeved arms around him and reassuring him everything would be okay.

  “First things first my little angel, you need to have a shower” she said leading him to the bathroom and leaving him alone inside she closed the door. “I’ve left some new clothes on the toilet for you, some new trainers as well, you’re still a size ten yes” she asked. There was a murmur of a yes. “Come to the kitchen when you’re finished, I’ll have something hot and tasty ready” she added before making her way down the stairs. James unexpectedly smiled; she never cooked anything in her life. Downstairs the woman had a number of people waiting, one was to sort the bedroom, basically do everything short of burning it in a bid to clean it. Another was sent to the kitchen to whip up a tasty healthy lunch for the boy who had not eaten in days and days. The third had just returned to the house with two hangers containing newly tailored suits and bags with accessories. “I do hope he hasn’t grown too much from the previous measurements” she said taking the hangers from the girl and directing her to place the bags in the living room.

  James finished his shower and put on the fresh new clothes she had bought for him and he actually walked passed his closed bedroom door and even though he heard sounds coming from beyond the door he did not care, suddenly he was hungry, starving actually. The kitchen was where she was waiting, alone and standing by the stove pretending to be actually preparing a meal.

  “Soup first James, something easy to digest” she said ladling the thick homemade vegetable soup into a bowl and placing it in front of James along with freshly bought brown bread that had been smothered in butter. She watched as the young boy devoured the brown bread dropping little crumbles to the table and floor and she actually smiled as he slurped the soup off the spoon, a noise that normally irritated her to the point of screaming. “Was it okay?” she asked taking the empty bowl and plate away and returning to the stove, “Shall I pour another bowl?” There was no reply and when she turned James was simply sitting at the table making his way through a Madeira cake that had been dropped in by one of the neighbours. She was going to give him some more hot food but she was happy he was eating and instead set a teapot on the table and joined him. Pouring a cup for herself and James they sat quietly, him eating intently and her trying to comprehend the boy’s thoughts. Finally a moment came when there was no food in his mouth and she seized the opportunity, delicately she broached the most harrowing topic, the funeral. “So James I have a new suit for you to wear today” carefully she started. For a second there was no reaction, the boy just stared into the cup of tea, his face free of any emotion. She started to worry afraid that she pushed too soon, that he would retreat to his room again and miss the chance to say a final goodbye.

  “I’m going to wear the suit Mom bought for me last year, I think it still fits” he finally said. For the last couple of days he had been griping at the ceiling, blaming it for what had happened but these were the first words he had spoken to someone since his mother died.

  “Okay, I’ll get that out and ready” she said in her normal upper-class tone, trying her best to hide the relief in her voice. James thanked her and then picked up another piece of cake and started to eat it, and then a rumble by the front door and his Dad walked in followed closely by her. Impossible to count the range of emotions suddenly surging through his adolescent body James tried his best to hide them but sadly the cake bore the brunt of it and as it squashed within his fist he dropped it to the table. “Stay here James” the woman said springing from her chair and heading to the hallway. “What are you doing bringing that woman here?” she sniped.

  “I have a name” the woman said.

  “I’m sure you do, and I have a couple more for you” the retort came quick and biting.

  “Mum stop it, you cannot speak to
her like that” Jack stepped in voicing his annoyance with his mother.

  “I’ll speak to whomever I wish in whatever way I wish, especially the likes of her”

  “Are you not ashamed, parading that thing around the house on the day of your wife’s funeral? I thought I raised you better than that”

  “Vic and I were finished Mum, I have been with Miriam for almost a year now” Jack explained.

  “Who do you think you are some sort of Casanova? You’re father was the philandering type but I quenched those embers and so help me Jesus if I knew I would have put a stop to this” she said poking Miriam hard in the shoulder. She let out an annoying lingering whine and rubbed the spot where she was poked by the elderly woman before giving Jack a look, a look as in to do something.

  “Mum apologise now” A single laugh of derision was what he got from his mother.

  “You spiteful old cow” Miriam muttered under her breath and although the hall was long it was rather narrow and Mrs. Griffin’s hearing was perfect as were her movements and with one swift swipe she slapped Miriam across the face.

  “If you do not get her out of here right now, you’ll get one as well” before whispering “your son is in the kitchen, today is his mother’s funeral show some bit of respect and tell your tart to go”. Jack was never the type to take orders or to back down or show weakness and so taking hold of Miriam’s hand he declared his love loudly for her and that soon they would be married. As soon as the words tumbled from his mouth he regretted them but it was too late, the damage was done and with the screeching of chair-legs across tiles James rushed from the kitchen and seeing as his path to the bedroom was a minefield he disappeared out the back door and ran straight into the forest. “You ignorant, pig-headed oaf” his mother seethed rolling her eyes and turning her back to them and heading for the backdoor. Jack found her pulling on a pair of wellingtons, ones that belonged to Victoria.

  “I’ll go get him” he said.

  “You’ll do no such thing, you get ready for the funeral and get that woman out of the house” she said picking up a tall blackthorn walking stick and fighting the urge to belt her son with it she headed out into the back garden and through the small opening in the fence she too disappeared into the forest.

  Panting and coughing James came to a stop close to the river, he had ran long enough now, he was a least two miles from the house. Sitting down on the bank James looked into the deep waters of the river as its extremely fast current rushed by and waited for his heart to return to a regular beat. Inhaling deeply he lay back on the cold ground and closing his eyes he let the sounds of the forest fill his mind, hoping it would stop other more tragic thoughts.

  “Hello there!” a voice startled him and he immediately sat up and opening his eyes he spied a girl standing only a few feet from where he lay. Barefoot and smiling she moved a little closer, her feet not making a whisper, and greeted him again.

  “Hi, am Hi” he replied quite unsure of the situation he found himself in.

  “What are you doing all the way out here?” she asked, taking a seat on a pile of leaves by him. James thought that question was better suited for her, especially seeing as she was wearing no shoes and the ground was cold and dangerous. “Are you not sure why you are out here?” she asked looking him directly in the eye. Looking back at her for barely a second before blushing and glancing away James saw enough, she was plain yet intriguing. Red hair that curled and frizzled down her back and cheeks so pale that they only intensified her light blue eyes James felt somewhat anxious as she posed the two questions again.

  “Am, am well I’m just out for a walk with my dog” he lied. He wasn’t sure why he lied, but it just happened.

  “Oh I love dogs, where is it?”

  “I think its gone home, it normally runs home before me, like a race” he wasn’t sure how much longer he could lie; he was never very good at it.

  “Oh, oh okay. Why are your eyes puffy and red? Were you crying?” For someone about the same age as James her outspokenness reminded him of nothing more than a five-year old. “Well were you crying, what were you crying about?” James continued to look into the river, ignoring her as if she were not there, but she was proving very hard to ignore. “Hello, I know you can hear me” she poked his arm and her finger left a rather sore sensation. “Hey, why were you crying? Are you going to jump in the river, is that why you’re crying? I wouldn’t want to go in there, it’s a bit chilly! Oh no don’t say the dog is gone in the river, oh the poor dog, no dog could swim in that current, we should try and rescue him”

  “There’s no bloody dog okay! MY MOM DIED My Mom died and that’s why I was crying” he shouted. James didn’t mean to shout, but it actually felt like a release and he shouted it a couple of more times, “My Mom died, my Mom died”.

  “You done? I think you’ve scared most of the animals in here!” James smiled at her and nodded, he was done and more to the point he felt like himself again and strangely closer to his mother. “Congratulations, acceptance!” she said giving him a little wildflower. For a few glorious minutes there was nothing but wind rustling the branches of the trees and water moving quickly down the river filling his ears, it reminded him of times spent here with his mother. Closing his eyes he could finally see her face again and he smiled, then the moment was gone. “So what are you doing now? Why are you smiling like that?” Fortunately for the girl, James’ patience was running low, another voice caught his attention.

  “James, James” they called as the person walked through the dense forest. It was his grandmother and when he turned back to where the girl was seated, she was gone; all that remained were a bunch of beautiful wild flowers. “James please come out”. Picking up the bunch of flowers James called out to his grandmother and walked slowly toward her. “Ah my boy there you bloody are, been walking for ages!” she said stopping and resting on the large stick.

  “Sorry Gran, I got some flowers for the funeral” he apologised, showing her the array of blue, white and purple flowers left by the girl.

  “They’re lovely” Gran declared as she took a deep smell before linking arms with her grandson and heading for home. “You know……if I had my shotgun I could have gotten dinner while out here….I thought I spied a deer in the bushes on my way, would have made a nice dinner” she sighed, utterly serious.

  There was little time to dawdle once they returned to a thankfully empty home. Just over an hour before the funeral was to start and checking on the newly purchased suits the grandmother noticed her son’s one was gone which meant he was obviously after making his way to the church, no doubt stopping for some Dutch courage along the way to aid his brazenness. James didn’t take long to ready himself and all Gran had to do was take off the wellingtons, dabble a bit of perfume and throw on a long black fur coat complete with a gold and diamond brooch, no matter where she was going, her jewellery was at the forefront of her attire. The luxurious black car that had brought Gran all the way to Hamlet brought them to the church where a handful of people congregated outside, inside were many more, along with a wooden box upon which a photograph of his mother stood. He took a seat at the front of the little church, keeping his head bowed low as he made his way up the aisle so as to avoid the gaze and outstretched hands of the village. Moments later the vicar started,

  “Ladies and gentleman, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of Victoria Griffin, an only child of only children parents whom she now joins in eternal life”

  The service dragged on and dragged on and James sat there quietly looking at his shoes, afraid to look at the box or the photo for fear of falling apart in front of the entire village, he knew his father wouldn’t appreciate it. However at one stage a burning desire to either scream or run from the church stormed his body when his father made his way to the pulpit and started talking about his mother, a speech so blatantly fabricated James wondered did anyone in the congregation believe it. But he made it t
hrough the service and now found himself under the arm of his grandmother standing in the village cemetery where the Vicar was uttering more words that were lost on James. Then came the hardest part and James fought valiantly to keep the tears back as the box was lowered into the freshly dug hole in the ground. His Gran squeezed his shoulder, there was at least someone left in his world he could rely on but her visit would not last forever and as little clumps of earth were thrown down by “friends” James tossed one of the wildflowers down, a purple one. The Vicar announced that there would be refreshments the pub and so everyone turned on their heels and headed for the free food and drink. “Come along dear” his Gran said trying to turn him away from the grave.

  “Just a few minutes” he replied, his voice cracking under the weight of emotion. She left him there, it was what he wanted and today she felt he should get anything he wanted. A few minutes was all he stayed because as soon as the graveyard emptied a rather brawny, ugly man with a hint of a learning disability approached the grave with a large shovel and insensitively began shovelling the earth back in. Walking away James stopped by the gate and took one last look down to where the man with the shovel was still tossing dirt into the hole and then a sad truth came to mind. He knew now that the home he lived in had become a house, and the only home he had was in front of him, where a sporadically-toothed man with a ghoulish job stood sweating.