Page 15 of The Fall-Out

Laugh at all the things we used to do

Miss me, but let me go.

As she recited the final stanza, I wondered how many of the congregation were actually listening. Probably some thought it was nothing – just a random, slightly eccentric woman who’d turned up late and disrupted the proceedings before settling down and behaving herself.

But we knew it was more than that. I could see it in the slight wobble in Kate’s legs as she walked carefully back to her place in her high heels; in Abbie’s wide-eyed look of shock – almost fear; in the way the tears were no longer falling from Rowan’s eyes.

I could feel it in Patch’s hand, still and rigid in my own.

She’s back, I thought. Today of all days, she had to pick to come back. And it’s not going to be pretty.

Absurdly, I thought how much Andy would have relished the moment of drama – how he’d have retold the story again and again, adding new embellishments every time.

But Andy wasn’t here any more.

Finally, the organist played Amazing Grace and we all joined in as best we could, before filing back outside into gently falling rain.

Zara didn’t come over to speak to us, not then. I determinedly avoided looking at her, but I couldn’t help catching glimpses of her in my peripheral vision, malignant as a crow in her black dress, flitting around talking to Andy’s NA sponsor, the vicar, Andy’s mother – anyone but us.

I stayed close to the little group made up of Patch and our friends, as if there’d be safety in numbers.

‘What are we going to do?’ Kate whispered.

‘We can’t uninvite her to the wake. She’s here now,’ said Abbie.

‘And she wasn’t invited in the first place.’ Rowan was clinging to Alex’s arm like she was having difficulty staying on her feet, Clara watching wide-eyed.

‘You don’t get invited to funerals, anyway,’ Daniel pointed out grimly. ‘You just turn up. And she has.’

‘We could go somewhere else,’ I suggested desperately. ‘A different pub. There’ll be others nearby.’

‘We can’t do that,’ Patch said. ‘Not when we’ve organised it all, and Andy’s mum and all these other people are going to the Watley Arms.’

His face was frozen and his voice sounded stilted, as if it was an effort for him to speak at all never mind sound almost normal. It was the first time he’d spoken since asking me if I wanted espresso or cappuccino, over an hour before. I wanted to hold him tight, let him tell me if he was feeling as shocked as I was, hear him reassure me that he loved me. But it was almost like he’d forgotten I was there.

‘We could go.’ I looked up at my husband pleadingly, then around at my friends like I was asking for permission. ‘Just us.’

‘We can’t,’ Abbie said gently. ‘You know we can’t.’

Of course, I knew we couldn’t.

‘This isn’t about us,’ Rowan said. ‘Come on, Nome. It’ll be okay.’

I waited for Patch to echo her reassurance, but he didn’t. The cold weight I’d felt in my stomach since learning of Andy’s death, which had been heavier since I woke that morning, had been joined now by a swarm of icy butterflies.

The rain had intensified. Zara had produced a giant black umbrella, and Andy’s mother was sheltering under it with her, like the two of them were official NBFFs. People were starting to look at their phones and drift off in the direction of the pub we’d so carefully chosen for its proximity to the church and its upscale buffet menu – Andy would rather have died than have wilting egg sandwiches and mystery meat sausage rolls at his wake.

Except obviously he wouldn’t have had a wake if he hadn’t already died.

‘We’re just going to have to front it out,’ I said. ‘That’s what she’s doing, after all.’

‘You sure, Nome?’ Rowan asked. ‘You and I can slip off early if you’d rather. Or go home. It’s fine, you do you.’

I shook my head. ‘I’ll come if Patch still wants to.’

Patch kind of shook himself, like a dog that’s just been for a swim. ‘We’re coming. Let’s do this.’

He took my hand, squeezing it quite hard. My fingers were cold now, and damp from the rain, whereas his felt as warm and reassuring as usual, the chill I’d felt in the church gone. But I wasn’t quite ready to be reassured.

---