Since he received no reply, Raymond moved closer to the pillow and whispered: “When you were little, you always pretended to be asleep when I came to tuck you in before I went to bed. You would close your eyes so tightly that I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. I didn’t want to ruin the moment, given how much effort you put into it. You would often forget to turn off your flashlight, and the light would shine through the sheets. So, I’d go back to my office to read and wait for you to finally drift off, then come back and take it from you. You know, Thomas, if I could stay longer, if I were allowed, I would make Camille wait. I missed you so much during the last years of my life. I’ll miss you even more now.”
Raymond kissed Thomas’s forehead and placed his hands on the top edge of the sheet. Sadly, he found that he was unable to tuck his son in.
12
“Why are we leaving so early?” Thomas asked as he knotted his tie.
“Because,” replied his father tersely.
“Feeling impatient?”
“I’ve waited more than twenty years for this. I don’t think impatient is the right word.”
“Nervous, then?”
“Wouldn’t you be, in my place? Go ahead, laugh at my expense, but I still remember your face when that Sophie turned up in your dressing room.”
“Fine, but the service doesn’t start for another two hours. Waiting outside the front door isn’t the best tactic if we want to be discreet.”
“That’s just it. I don’t want you to be discreet. Instead of sneaking in, you’re going to be invited.”
“Just what planet do you live on? Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. But, seriously, no one invites strangers to their mother’s funeral. It’s not a surprise party.”
“Just wait until we get there. You’ll see. Trust me.”
“Do I really have a choice? Besides, I like this better. This way, if your plan fails, at least I won’t have to be rude.”
Raymond looked at his son, a little smirk on his face.
“Rude to who?” he asked.
“To Camille’s daughter, for starters.”
“Manon, you mean. Did you forget her name?”
“Fine. Manon, if you prefer.”
“Oh, it makes no difference to me.”
“All right, well, let’s go, then. There’s no point in standing around and guessing what will happen.”
“There’s one detail we have to take care of first,” Raymond said. “And it’s an important one. How are you going to transport my urn? Not in a shopping bag again, I hope!”
Thomas looked around. His suitcase was too big and would attract attention. He went into the bedroom and rifled through the closets.
“I found something,” he told his father as he made his way back to the living room. He was carrying a canvas bag emblazoned with the logo of a bookstore.
Raymond complained that it was too plain for the task at hand.
“It’s not plain, it’s discreet. Anyway, it’s not like you’ll be stuck in it forever,” Thomas reminded him.
Raymond checked to make sure the bag was clean on the inside, then agreed, since time was ticking away.
The car dropped them off in front of the park gates. Thomas walked down the path and stopped about fifty yards from the Columbarium.
“What do we do now?” he asked.
“We go for a stroll,” his father replied.
