‘So,’ I ventured. ‘Any plans for when we can finally leave the house?’
Fergus’s bloodshot eyes met mine. ‘Leave?’ he repeated, as if the concept was foreign to him. ‘Where’s there to go?’
‘Well, just for some fresh air. A nice walk down to your cottage, or to the village?’
‘Pah! The cottage. It’s not my cottage. No.’ He got up clumsily. ‘No. I don’t think I’ll go anywhere,’ he said, making to leave the room.
‘Fergus.’ I motioned to his bowl, the letter, his drink.
He ambled back, snatching up the envelope and his drink, leaving me with his bowl and spoon.
* * *
A few hours later, the whole family lined up on the front steps of the house to pay our respects to Toots. Well, everyone except Clem, who Fergus said was still soundly asleep.
As I watched the covered stretcher descend the stone steps, I couldn’t help but feel a stab of sorrow; Toots had been married in this house, raised her children here, and now she was being carried out for the last time. Sure, she was kind of horrible, and try as I might I couldn’t recall a single time she had beenniceor a pleasure to be around… But still, she was undoubtedly a character.
The men in smart suits were so polite and apologetic, as if it was their fault somehow that we had been with left with Toots’s body for days. We watched as they slid her into their van and slammed the doors. We stood unmoving as the dark grey vehicle retreated down the slushy driveway, before an almost imperceptible sound of relief escaped us.
‘Goodbye, Mother,’ Fergus said solemnly. And I’ll be damned if I didn’t feel sorry for him, too. He was like some lost, drunken boy who had only ever had two cruel parents who’d never known how to show him an ounce of love. No wonder he was the way he was… No wonder George had been so cut off and remote. And then there was me, an outsider psychoanalysing and sympathising with them, when I knew damn well if the shoe were on the other foot, they probably wouldn’t spit on me if I was on fire. And even if they did, they’d be asking for the spit back afterwards.
‘Right!’ Jeannie said in a high-pitched tone that spelled trouble. ‘Time to get ourselves ready.’
‘Ready for what?’ asked Martha.
‘For the tropical Christmas party!’
We all turned to stare at her, jaws practically on the floor.
‘Absolutely not, Mother,’ Miles said, stepping forward. ‘We’ve gone along with everything else, but we cannot do that.’
Jeannie’s head turned towards her son, her eyes glacial. ‘Cannot? Or will not?’
‘Both,’ he replied, jaw set.
‘I’m with Miles,’ said Fergus. ‘It’s an absolutely preposterous idea!’
Jeannie turned to face them and squared her shoulders. ‘The last time I checked,Iwas the owner of this house. AndIdo what I damn well please in it. As this past week has shown us, we have a finite amount of time on this earth, and I don’t plan to spend it moping around, doing nothing with my life like the rest of you!’
Mimi and the twins flinched like they’d been whipped, clearly taking grave offence at her jibe.
‘This party has been planned formonths. People in the community look to me to provide social guidance. I am a leader!’ she squawked. ‘And as Churchill once said, “if you’re going through hell, keep going.” I for one intend to do just that!”
I was wondering whatcommunityshe was referring to, because the only community Jeannie bumped shoulders with were rich individuals who possessed something she deemed useful.
‘And what’s more, I already have spent thousands of pounds on this party! The caterers have the food and have informed me that they are still able to fulfil the delivery now that the roads are accessible. Do you expect me to leave it all to rot?’
‘Don’t you think people will think it’s strange us throwing a party after three of our immediate family members have died?’ Miles asked incredulously.
‘No, I absolutely do not. I think people look to me to set an example. I’ve telephoned the usual crowd and told them that the party is back on. Three p.m. sharp. All you lot have to do is wear something summery and drink a bloody Pina Colada!’ Her voice was rising as she balled her fists at her side. ‘Is that really too much to ask!’
She stormed into the house and slammed the door behind her, leaving us all standing in the freezing cold staring after her.
Grumbling and shaking our heads, one by one we filed inside.
In truth, I was secretly glad the tropical Christmas party was still going ahead, and my grand reveal wouldn’t go to waste.
* * *
