‘Yes, yes, he will be missed. He really will ...’
‘Look at you with a cigarette – when did this start? I can’t believe you smoke!’ Remy wafted her hand in front of her face as she took a seat next to her. It was easier, somehow, to talk while sitting side by side. It was with nothing but relief that she stared at her sister, grateful at how they had found common ground today, letting their love, their history, blunt the sharp edge of mistrust that seemed to have flared over the years.
‘And I can’t believe you mentioned concrete in your eulogy!’
‘He loved concrete,’ her sister justified.
Ashleigh thoughtherwords had been more fitting, her tone more reverential, better. Not that she’d be sharing this.
‘It was a lovely service though.’
‘It was.’ Remy nodded.
‘And to kind of answer your question, if I smoke, I don’t want to eat,’ she admitted.
‘Why don’t you want to eat?’
Was it a trick question?
‘So I don’t put on weight.’
‘But you’ve never put on weight. We’re built like Mum, luckily.’
‘Dad loved anything sweet, didn’t he, especially Maltesers!’ It felt good to talk about him and laugh, to remember his funny little ways, to remember him positively, rather than give heed to the gut ache that had dogged her since his death, knowing she had disappointed him, let him down.
‘I don’t know if I tell you enough, Ashleigh, but I am so very proud of you.’
‘For your information, I smoked occasionally at university, then Archie and I smoked when we were drunk. Then I stopped when we went our separate ways but had a cigarette at a party about three years ago, and I just started doing it, but only when I have a drink.’
‘How often do you have a drink?’
‘What are you, my doctor?’ She pulled a face. ‘Don’t you worry, it’s all about balance. I eat well, drink rarely, and take a whole handful of supplements and potions, so I figure the odd cigarette won’t kill me.’
‘Unless it does.’ Remy spoke plainly.
‘Give me a break. Today is an exceptional one. I’ve just buried my dad.’
‘What a coincidence!’ Remy gasped.
‘Talking of doctors, are you well now? Feeling better? Mum said you’d got the all-clear.’
‘Yes. Thank you for your card and the flowers. Are you getting checked?’ Remy’s expression was one of concern.
‘Yes. I did, nothing found, so ...’
‘I wasn’t surprised. I mean, to get to sixty without being sick felt like an achievement. I know so many people who are either battling something or waiting for results or getting over an illness.’
‘I guess we’re at that age when the wheels are starting to fall off,’ Ashleigh admitted reluctantly. ‘Sniper’s alley, isn’t that what they call it?’
‘Yep.’
There was a moment of silence.
‘How did you get down here, anyway?’
‘My ... friend brought me, Victor. He has an Aston Martin.’
‘I didn’t ask.’
