Page 45 of The Final Beat

It turned out that she was more stubborn than I was. She was adamant that I wasn’t going alone. Insistent to the point of packing her overnight bag and leaving it at the front door.

“I’m fine,” I replied, scratching the back of my neck. “I don’t want to fuck up anyone’s lives even for just a couple of days. You all have stuff to do, and you didn’t know him.” I barked out a laugh. “Shit, I didn’t know him.”

“That’s not the point, mate. You’re the one who needs our support. He doesn’t because he’s dead.”

Typical Beau, straight to the point.

“I’ll be fine, honestly.”

Destiny poked me in the leg. When I looked at her she shook her head and wagged her finger, making sure I didn’t mention her name. We’d already had the conversation about her not wanting the boys to know she was going with me. I frowned and mouthed, ‘I know’. “I’d rather be on my own. That way I can just get in and get out without any fuss. If you lot come, then it’s bound to create press interest.”

Beau sighed. “I know, mate, you’re right. We just don’t want you to be alone.”

“I won’t be alone.” Destiny glared at me in warning. “I know,” I hissed.

“You know what?” Beau asked.

“Erm, I know you’re just looking out for me. That’s what I meant.” I scowled back at Destiny to silently tell her I’d got the message. “But Iwillbe okay, I swear.”

Another big sigh from Beau echoed in my ear. It was a resigned one, though, so I felt relieved. “Okay, mate. But, if at any point you need us, get on the phone and we’ll be there as quick as we can.”

“Cheers, Beau, I do appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.”

We said our goodbyes and I put my phone back in my suit jacket which was draped across my knee. I was already dressed for the funeral, because like I’d told Beau, I wanted to be in and out of there as fast as possible. I didn’t want to be hanging around listening to stories of what a great man Aldo Esposito was. As far as I was concerned, he wasn’t. Besides which, I couldn’t remember a tap of Italian so wouldn’t understand them anyway.

“Okay?” Destiny asked.

I threaded her fingers in mine and nodded. “As I’ll ever be, Dais’. As I’ll ever be.”

Anyone who had been to a Catholic funeral knew it lasted a long time. An Italian Catholic funeral went to another level. If the formal part wasn’t long enough, we’d had to listen to hundreds of family members talking about Aldo.

“Apparently, those that can are speaking in English for you,” Destiny whispered close to my ear.

“For me?”

“Yep. Maria’s idea.”

I blew out a breath. “I thought I’d miss all this bullshit. Thought it would be at the house. How wrong I was.”

“It can’t be much longer,” Destiny said. “We’ve been here for two hours now.”

“I don’t know about that,” I added and nodded towards the aisle where people were starting to walk up to the open casket. “There are bloody hundreds of them.”

Destiny gasped as we watched men, women, and children all form an orderly queue, each taking it in turns to stoop and kiss Aldo’s cold and lifeless body.

“Are you going?” Destiny asked.

I gave her a look which I hoped said, ‘like fuck’. “I didn’t really know the man,” I replied. “So, I’m certainly not going to kiss his forehead that looks and feels like marble.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a lovely, kind soul, aren’t you?”

“I don’t even know why I’m here.” Feeling frustration rising, I looked behind me for the nearest exit. “Can we get out of here?”

“Don’t you want to see the internment, or say goodbye to your sisters?” Destiny’s hand tightened around mine as she hugged my arm to her side.

I was torn about what to do. I wanted to leave but I also wanted to see it to the end. See my dad’s coffin buried in the mausoleum across the graveyard. I wanted to know that he was finally gone so that I could stop wondering if he’d ever contact me and explain. Destiny was also right about my sisters, especially Maria who seemed to like me. I should say goodbye. It was the decent thing to do, but I wasn’t sure I could last much longer. The air was cloying inside the church, the weeping was irritating, and the open coffin was a sight I’d never forget.

All of it meant that for the first time in a long time, I felt like I needed a hit. Not wanted one but needed one. I could feel the itch of my skin and the gnawing in my veins. It was fucking petrifying. How could this funeral of a man I barely knew lead back to the darkness and make me want to throw the last years of sobriety away? What if I suffered a real trauma? Would I immediately be back on the gear without thinking or fighting it? I flexed my fingers, hoping to ease the ache away but as more people lined up in the aisle, it only grew stronger.

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