Page 9 of Ghost Note

The funeral was small, but so was our local church the service was held in. It sat on the hilltop, surrounded by greenery and shrubs, with the most gorgeous sea view that turned the church into a beacon of faith the village could look up to.

Gina and I were in the back pews—our heads bowed as we listened to the vicar give his speech on Florence Silver’s long and peaceful life. She’d been married for forty-eight years when her husband Albiehad died a few years ago.

“Since then,” the vicar said, speaking to the congregation, “Florence went about her days peacefully, volunteering here at the church, amongst other things. She founded a book club where she and her friends would meet every Friday evening to discuss their latest romance read.”

I looked up in time to see the vicar smile as if a memory of her had just hit him.

“Florence was vigorous in her quest to defend romantic literature, and I would often find her at the back of this very church, arguing respectfully with men who used to mock her taste in books. A few of them are here today, I’m sure.”

A low rumble of sad laughs and agreement washed over the pews, and I imagined Florence Silver, with her petite little body, perfectly combed grey hair, and raised chin taking on the men twice her size with her colossal attitude. She may have been small in body, but Flo was the definition of mighty, and when she pulled you into her arms, she somehow had the ability to make you feel protected. As though nobody could hurt you while she was in control.

“I, myself, had many a debate with her about books. She used to sit for hours and hours, talking about her favourite authors and how fascinated she was that words on a page could make her heart beat faster. How sentences weaved together could make her feel like she was falling in love for the very first time all over again. How black ink on white paper could be the very thing to give her hope—hope that romance and true, genuine love exists for everyone out there, the way it did for her and Albie. It made her remember the moments she shared with her husband when they were younger, especially since he was no longer with us.”

The vicar dipped his head, taking a moment to collect himself before he looked up again, pushing his chest out and raising his chin.

“I’ll admit, I used to be the biggest critic of romance novels, but thanks to Florence, I am now educated. I understand how she saw peace in dreaming. I think it’s beautiful how she lost her troubles to fantasy for a short period of time, easing the ache of her real world while she drowned in that of the fictional. And, above all else… I admire her strength. I admire the way she was able to look at love like every time was the very first time, in spite of her heart having been broken. Florence; I hope now you’ve returned to a new reality with Albie. One filled with everything you ever read about, and so much more than we mere mortals could ever imagine being possible.”

Tears filled my eyes, and goosebumps rippled my skin as everyone stood to sing their final hymn for this formidable lady.

I admire the way she was able to look at love like every time was the very first time, in spite of her heart having been broken.

I glanced down at my black dress, bringing my bare arms in front of me to clasp my hands together. A tear fell, landing on the toe of my black shoe, and I mourned for a woman who had always been nothing but nice to her grandson’s girlfriend, treating me like family from the very first day.

When the service was over, Gina and I stayed where we were, letting the rest of the mourners leave before us. I offered them smiles filled with sympathy and gentle nods in greeting as they glanced my way. I wondered if some of them were surprised to see me there. After all, the whole village knew how Danny had left me. Did they think I was only there in case he showed?

“That was beautiful,” Gina said quietly, pulling me away from my own thoughts before they derailed completely. “Everyone’s gone now. Think we should follow?”

I looked around and offered her a nod. We were the only two in there, the rest having gone outside to where Florence was about to be lowered into the ground.

“He hasn’t come,” I found myself saying, unsure which emotion was more dominant. The relief I felt at not having to see him again, or the sadness I felt for Florence that her own grandson hadn’t shown up.

“Did you think he would?”

“No. But I hoped, for her sake, he might.”

“Not yours?”

“I never want to see him again in my life.”

With a huff of exhaustion, I pushed to my feet and turned to walk out of our row of pews. The taste of that lie lingered in my throat as much as Sandros’ garlic pizza bread, but I carried on regardless, making my way outside.

The sun shone brightly—too bright for a funeral. Days like these were supposed to be carried out under grey skies and heavy clouds, not thirty-degree heat with the birds singing their happy songs. Or maybe I’d gotten everything wrong about these things.

I glanced around the cemetery, looking at every tree and all the hiding spots to see if Danny would be there, trying to keep himself concealed.

But… nothing.

The ache in my chest pinched, and I cursed under my breath at him for having let Florence down.

Once the whole thing was over, Gina turned to point to the other end of the cemetery, where Ben stood with a weak smile on his face. He offered me a feeble wave, and Jackson, who was standing next to him, did the same.

“I see he kept my brother alive,” Gina sighed. “What a guy.”

“If you like him so much, go and get him.”

“Ben?” I could hear her confusion—practically picture the frown she was aiming my way. “A little part of you is sick. You know that, right? Daisy, the man is obsessed with you. So much so, he’s waiting at the end of a funeral service to make sure you’re all right.”

I took a moment to study Ben, seeing him talking to Jackson with ease. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his black trousers now, and he wore a white shirt that was opened at the collar. He’d dressed respectfully, even though he’d not been a part of the day officially.

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