‘Sad affair,’ said the barman, putting on a grave face. He probably saves that expression for times like these, thought Henry.
‘What a tragic way to go.’
Go, thought Henry, what a strange phrase to use. Like Henry had just gone on a holiday.
‘A terrible tragedy,’ said Ray.
‘Yes,’ agreed Rita, without any clear idea what she was agreeing to.
The barman shook his head.
‘The shock did it, so they say.’
‘The shock?’ said Rita.
‘Apparently he would have made it otherwise,’ said Ray.
‘Strange business,’ said the barman.
‘What business?’ Henry asked looking at Rita beseechingly.
Rita couldn’t bring herself to ask what had happened to Henry. She’d look crazy if she did. Who comes to a funeral not knowing how the deceased died?
‘It must have been terrible for Imogen,’ said Ray, tilting his head towards her table.
‘I heard they were going boating in the park. No sign that Henry was, well, you know …’ he stopped and glanced at Imogen.
‘Less said the better,’ said Ray.
‘A shock for her though, in more ways than one,’ said the barman.
‘Never try and be a hero I say,’ voiced Ray. ‘Never pays off.’
‘But if it’s someone …’
‘No one knows that,’ broke in Ray.
‘Henry would always be the hero,’ said Rita proudly.
Henry raised his eyebrows and echoed the word ‘boating’. The word conjured up all kinds of images. Henry swayed. He couldn’t possibly have drowned. He was a strong swimmer, always had been. He would never in a million years have imagined himself drowning.
‘Surely, I didn’t drown?’ he said.
Rita pictured the river in her mind, the water sparkling in some places and yet murky in others, a fast- or slow-moving current depending on the weather. She’d often walked along the banks dotted with wildflowers carrying a bag of bread in her hand. She could now smell the algae and hear the flapping of a bird as it took flight. Had Henry died in that river? Had she been there that day? She glanced at Henry, but his eyes were vacant as if he was somewhere else. Henry was remembering the days he and Imogen had gone boating on that river. They’d take a picnic and make a day of it. Henry was an excellent oarsman. A boat would never tip over with Henry at the helm and Henry most certainly would not drown. This stupid milkman had no idea what he was talking about.
‘Terrible,’ said the barman.
‘Yeah sure was. I’m going to get some food,’ said Ray. ‘Or else it will all go.’
Oh yes, thought Henry. We wouldn’t want you to miss out, would we? You didn’t even know me but you’re happy to eat my food, because Henry had no doubt that he had paid for the spread. Imogen must have paid for everything out of their savings. What a waste he thought, especially as we’ll have to do it all over again when I actually do die.
‘Philistine,’ he muttered. ‘He’s a fool, telling you that I drowned. I’m an excellent swimmer.’
It then occurred to Rita how Henry must have died. She let out a small gasp.
‘You were a hero’, he said. ‘You must have saved someone.’
Henry would like to think of himself as a hero but Henry knew even he wouldn’t put his own life at risk to save someone else. He wasn’t that unselfish.
