Alison’s mother clung to his arm throughout the service and committal, her grief well aired for all to see. If it hadn’t been for his neighbour, Helen, taking her from him when they arrived at the hotel for refreshments afterwards, Joe would probably have told her to shut up, or worse.
To Joe’s surprise, his brother David made the journey to the funeral with his wife, Pam, a woman Joe had only met on a handful of occasions and never quite taken to. They were staying at a Travelodge nearby for a couple of days and expressed a desire to see Joe the next day, ‘to catch up’, they said. He really could have done without the bother, but they’d made the effort to come so he felt obliged to invite them round to the house the following morning.
The hotel provided a pretty standard finger buffet — sandwiches with the crusts cut off, sausage rolls, quiche, pork pies and assorted nuts and crisps. Joe watched as people talked and laughed as at any other social occasion and he felt remote, like an outsider, looking in on something which didn’t concern him at all. It seemed as if his head would burst from the cocktail of emotions he felt; sorrow, regret, anger and frustration, but there was nothing he could do; his wife was gone and he was left behind to carry on alone.
Joe longed for the hands on the clock to move more swiftly so that he could get home to be alone, just him and his dog. But the time ticked by unhurriedly, not caring what he wanted. He couldn’t, didn’t want to, believe that these people were assembled because Alison was dead; his beautiful Ali who no longer walked, breathed and laughed on this earth. How he wished he had died with her — he wanted no part of a world without her, but he must speak to these people and listen to their anecdotes of times spent with his wife. He continued to play the part. You can still exist without living, can’t you?
The time did pass, although much slower than Joe wished, and at last he found himself home, driven by Phil and Helen who then kindly took Ethel home too. He’d had a whisky and a pint at the hotel and was now tired, so after letting Liffey out into the garden, he lay down on the sofa, careful not to jar his arm, and fell into a deep sleep.
The sound of the doorbell broke into his rest. It had turned dark outside whilst he slept and Phil stood on the doorstep waiting to take Liffey out for her evening walk.
‘Bearing up, mate?’ he asked.
‘Yes, glad it’s all over to be honest, and you’ve been brilliant, Phil. Thank you for looking after Ethel. I really couldn’t take her complaints today.’
‘No problem. Helen was the one to see to her mostly, I was just the driver. It was good that your brother came. I managed to have a brief word with him. Will he be staying on at all?’ Phil asked.
‘Apparently, yes, they’ve booked in at the Travelodge and are coming round tomorrow. I can’t say we’ve ever been close and I’m rather surprised that they came, actually.’
‘Family can surprise you sometimes, and the company might just be what you need.’
Phil meant well but Joe really wasn’t looking forward to seeing David and Pam — it was just something else he’d have to make an effort for.
When Phil left, Joe made a token gesture at tidying up, difficult with only one arm, and then watched a mindless programme on television, before deciding on an early night.
The tears came again in the darkness of his bedroom, the bed so vast and empty without Ali. Was it better to think about her, or to try not to? Joe really didn’t know. Liffey, sensing his distress, jumped up on the bed beside him and licked his arm. He spoke to her, confiding how much he missed Alison and how he dreaded each new day without her. Liffey nuzzled into his side, understanding that all was not well, and eventually they both slept.
David and Pam arrived on the doorstep at 10am, wide smiles on their faces as they marched into the lounge.
‘How are you today, Joe? It’s such a lovely morning after all that snow,’ David said. His question and apparent upbeat mood was so totally incongruent to the whole situation that it sparked anger in Joe, who replied sharply.
‘How do you think I bloody feel? I buried my wife yesterday!’
Pam’s mouth dropped open and David countered, ‘There’s no need to snap. I was only trying to cheer you up.’
‘Sorry, but please don’t expect me to be “cheered up” so easily. I just can’t do it.’ Joe sat down and his visitors followed suit. ‘It’s too soon, David, and yesterday was a nightmare. I feel absolutely washed out today.’
‘Right, well, how about a cup of tea and we can have a chat then?’
Joe wished his brother would go away and take his grinning wife with him, but he dutifully rose and went into the kitchen to make tea. Pam followed after him a minute or two later, asking if she could help, although by the way she was gazing around, Joe thought she was simply keen to see more of the house.
‘Yes please, if you could carry the tray for me?’ With his sling it was obvious he couldn’t perform even such a simple task.
‘Oh, yes of course!’ Pam picked up the tray and carried it through to the lounge where she placed it on the glass coffee table. David meanwhile, had occupied himself by looking at the group of photographs which Ali had arranged on an occasional table in the window. They were mainly of the two of them in various holiday destinations, the usual tourist backgrounds.
‘Seems you had some pretty good holidays?’ David remarked, a brittle note of envy in his voice.
‘Yes.’ Joe could think of nothing else to say. Was his brother trying to emphasise the fact that there would be no more holidays with Alison?
‘Well, that’s the advantage of not having any kids, I suppose. Mind you, even without them we could never afford anything other than a caravan at Margate.’ He chuckled as if he’d made a hilarious joke.
Advantage! Joe could have screamed at his brother. He’d almost forgotten how insensitive David could be ... and how jealous he always was of their lifestyle. As he handed out tea and biscuits he bit his tongue to stop himself from being rude and desperately hoped they wouldn’t stay long.
‘So will you be selling this place now?’ Pam asked bluntly. ‘It’s far too big for one, surely?’ She was gazing round the room as if appraising its value. ‘How many bedrooms is it — three or four?’
‘I’ve no plans for doing any such thing. This is where I feel closest to Ali, all my memories are here.’
‘Yes, but you have to be sensible and think of the future,’ David chipped in.
‘Good grief, man, the funeral was only yesterday! I’m only just getting by one day at a time, never mind the future!’
‘But you must have thought about it, and there’ll be a nice hefty insurance payment due, no doubt. You’ll be able to get a nice little bungalow somewhere, or perhaps one of those new executive apartments, they’re perfect for single people.’
Joe’s brother amazed him. ‘I haven’t thought about anything of the sort — and why the sudden interest, David? Why turn up after never even returning our Christmas cards for the past few years? What is it you want?’
‘We don’t want anything! We’re family and we want to comfort you, to help if we can. Alison was a lovely woman ... but she’s gone now and you’ve got to be practical.’
‘Perhaps we are family, David, but you obviously don’t know me, so why should you think you can advise me now?’ Joe was furious with his insensitive, meddling brother and was almost on the point of asking him to leave when David saved him the trouble and stood up.