Stared at his words on the page. They seemed so foreign. So against the natural order of things. She didn’t give him help – he gave it to her. But, with a mental shrug, he threw down the pen and went to knock on Tamzin’s door. On the third knock, she answered through the door, drearily, blearily, from the depths of her despair.
‘I’m stuck,’ he called. He didn’t have to contrive the flatness in his voice.
A long pause, before her voice came again, puzzled. ‘On what?’
‘On what to do next. There’s so much to do. My head hurts and I’ve hardly slept and I can’t think straight. Any chance that you could help me?’
A long pause. He could imagine her, rolled in her bedclothes, a frown curling her pale eyebrows. ‘OK,’ she answered, cautiously. ‘I’ll get dressed.’
Whilst he waited for her to appear, he made them each a slice of toast and a cup of tea. Following Diane’s example of the morning before, he simply put food down in Tamzin’s place and began to eat his own. She arrived with her hair pulled up into a navy blue scrunchie, blinking. She looked at the toast as if it were left there by aliens but picked up the cup of tea as she sat down.
‘So, what have we got to do?’
He shrugged, palms up. ‘I’m trying to make a list of people we have to tell about Mum. Things we have to do. I can’t think straight.’
‘Oh.’ She picked up a pen and wiggled it. Skewed her head to see what he’d written.
Inform:–
Solicitor
Bank
Insurance companies
‘Rellies?’ she asked. It sounded like the kind of word George would use. ‘Let’s begin with her cousins.’
Wordlessly, he passed her the pad and, after a moment’s surprised hesitation, she began to write down the names of Valerie’s cousins, going from the oldest to the youngest, in order, to ensure nobody was left out. Then they began on Valerie’s aunts and uncles, then friends. ‘She had so many,’ observed Tamzin, rubbing her eyes. ‘Let’s work through them by place – you know, flying club, village, school …’
‘Great.’ He got up and made a second cup of tea. Tamzin worked at her list methodically, James tossing in names if he thought she’d missed any, carefully making no remark when she dipped a corner of toast into her tea and ate it. Valerie had hated her dunking, said it made her look like a navvy.
He didn’t care in what form food got into her stomach. Just that it did.
She heaved a massive sigh. ‘We’ve got to sort out a funeral, haven’t we?’
Without knowing whether he was comforting her or himself, he took her hand as he dropped heavily back into his chair. ‘Yes. I think we need a family conference about that. What do you think?’
A tear tipped over her lashes. ‘Yes, better talk to the others. Do we have to put a box in the newspaper, too? Dad, this is really horrible.’ The tears began to slide slowly down her cheeks.
He slid his arm around her weightless shoulders. ‘We’ll have to be strong for each other.’
‘OK,’ she whispered.
Chapter Thirty
‘You’re not going to be able to manage me.’ Gareth’s fingers moved restlessly over the spokes of the wheelchair.
Diane didn’t pause in her task of transferring things from her usual old handbag into a small black one, new, that she’d bought to go with her dress. ‘I can get you into the car – you’re mobile enough on your crutches in short bursts. Melvyn and Ivan will help at the church.’
‘I feel funny about Melvyn and Ivan being at Valerie’s funeral. They’ve hardly met her but it hasn’t seemed to occur to them not to go.’ His brows were hard over his eyes.
Diane found her keys. ‘She’s the half-sister of their half-brother. They have a pronounced idea of family.’
‘Did you get directions?’
‘Yes.’ Her stark black dress showed not a flash of white or even a gold-coloured button. She glanced in the mirror. It was amazing how well black suited her and her pale hair. She hadn’t bought anything of such quality since before she met Gareth and was entranced by the way the fabric hung and moved.
He was watching. ‘So where’s that dress from, then?’
