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CHAPTER EIGHT

Funeral Photography

J oel and Sandra were talking quietly to each other in my living room while I struggled into a black pencil skirt. I grimaced at the thought of how sweaty my thighs would be on a day that was threatening to top forty-five.

I teamed the skirt with a dressy, deep blue blouse, and a pair of black flats.

I’d deliberately worn no makeup so I wouldn’t leave panda eyes and tear tracks all over my face. I brushed my hair and tugged it back into a low ponytail.

I really didn’t want to leave the house today. I really didn’t want to leave the house ever again.

If it wasn’t for the security Sandra still had posted at their gate, I’d have been hounded every time I set foot outside their house. I’d turned off the voicemail feature on my phone, and only answered calls from friends and family. I’d made the mistake of answering unknown numbers a few times.

They all wanted the same thing: what did I have to say for myself in the wake of the Black-Levine sex-tape scandal?

My answer? “No comment.”

What I really wanted to say? “Leave me the fuck alone!”

I dawdled out to the lounge room. Sandra and Joel both fell silent and looked up at me. I got the distinct impression that they’d been talking about me.

“You look lovely, Mel,” Sandra commented as they both stood up.

“Thanks,” I replied shyly. Joel put a hand on the small of my back, leading me gently out the door and down the stairs to his car. Sandra refused to take the front seat when I offered it to her.

“You need to stretch your leg out, Mel. Steve would never forgive me if I made you squash up in the back with a sprained ankle.”

I didn’t speak much on the trip to the church. I wiped my clammy hands on my skirt, sneaking a glance at Joel. He was wearing black pinstripe pants and a dark blue shirt and tie, but no jacket – it was draped over the spare seat in the back.

There would be a swarm of media outside the church. My heart lurched and I scrubbed my palms on my skirt again.

“Stink,” Joel murmured. “You okay?”

“I’m …” I began, chewing on a nail, then thought better of it and put my hand back into my lap. “I don’t want to talk to press. I don’t want today to be about … you know.”

Sandra totally knew what I was referring to, but I still felt a hot flash of mortification discussing it while she was in earshot.

“Whatever happens, Mel, know that we are all here to support each other,” Sandra said. “You’re family. And we Herbert’s stick together.”

My eyes overflowed at Sandra’s words, and I frantically swiped at the tears with the back of my hand. It was too early to start with the waterworks – I had the whole funeral to get through yet.

Sure enough, when we parked on the street not far from the church, we could already make out a wall of cameras outside. Joel and I shared a meaningful glance. We couldn’t let them derail today with questions about me and Pete Levine. And we definitely couldn’t let them get anywhere near Sandra.

I bit my top lip and together we got out of the car. It only took one of them shouting, “Mel! Melanie Black!” and they were all converging on us .

“Head down, don’t react,” Joel muttered in my ear as he gripped my elbow and, tucking his mother under his other arm, we stepped into the fray.

“Mel, are you and Pete Levine an item now?”

“How many times have you slept together?”

“Any plans for a sequel?”

Joel’s fingers were almost bruising as he parted the sea of vultures like Moses. I watched the ground, face on fire. Wanting to scream at all of them that none of this should ever have been any of their business, but the lump in my throat wouldn’t subside. My eyes burned.

Finally, we breached the doorway. No media was allowed inside.

“Breathe, Stinky,” Joel reminded me as we walked towards the front of the church, Sandra stopping to greet and hug people. Joel kept hold of my arm.

Dianne and the kids were already there, sitting in the second row. A tall, handsome man with a strong jaw, dark hair, and eyes like Joel’s was seated in the front row, and he stood to envelope Sandra in a hug.

“That’s my Uncle Ben,” Joel explained as he steered me to a seat in the same pew. “He just flew in from the Middle East.”

The man hugging Sandra looked nothing like how I’d imagined Joel’s uncle. He and Joel looked more like brothers – the family similarity was striking, more striking than it had been between Joel and Steve.

Joel clocked my bewildered expression and chuckled humourlessly. “He’s a lot younger than Dad.”

I fidgeted in my seat, listening to the low hum of voices behind us. I dreaded to think what they were saying.

“I don’t …” I mumbled, starting to rise, to move further back, but Joel cut me off.

“You heard what Mum said in the car, Stinky. You’re family. You sit here with us.” He still had his sunglasses on. Without thinking I reached out and took them off his face, folding the arms and sticking them in my handbag. His mouth twitched, but neither of us had the energy for a proper smile .

The priest took his place at the pulpit and my heart rate kicked up a notch. I’d managed to keep my eyes off the dark wooden casket in the middle of the room, until now. It loomed bigger than ever into my vision.

Bulging eyes.

Blood.

Gaping mouth.

My fingernails bit into my palm and I turned away from the coffin, trying to get my blurry eyes to focus instead on the smiling photo of Steve set up among an array of yellow and pink flowers.

Joel’s fingers gently untangled the fist I’d made, and placed my hand palm down on my leg, giving it a quick pat.

Ben was called up to deliver the eulogy. I tried to focus as he began to speak, but I felt Joel’s warm shoulder shaking against mine.

He was crying. Oh fuck.

My eyes prickled, the lump in my throat, which felt like it had been there since the morning this all happened, thickened and hardened and became something truly painful.

I reached across and grabbed his hand, squeezing, leaning my head against his shoulder. He drove me crazy most of the time, but right now he needed a friend. Right now, I could be that friend.

“Steve and Sandra had one of the best marriages I have ever known,” Ben continued, his voice quavering.

“The love they have for each other will continue on even now that Steve is with God. Sandra, I know that Steve is up there, waiting patiently for the time when you’ll join him again.

One day I hope that I find someone who I can love the way Steve loved you. ”

Joel pulled his mother against his other side as she wept quietly. I reached across, grabbing her hand and wrapping my fingers through hers.

To everyone else in the church, we would look like a family. Sandra’s two kids, comforting her. In some ways, Joel was like a brother to me. An annoying older brother. In other ways … well …

Joel could never be my brother.

When the service was over, Joel stood to join Ben and the funeral attendants to wheel the coffin out to the hearse .

“Follow along behind, but stop just inside the church door, okay? I’ll come back in for you both,” Joel muttered to Sandra and me as he took his place at the coffin.

I grabbed onto Sandra’s hand, heart thundering.

How unfair, that she couldn’t even be there to watch her husband be driven away to the crematorium.

As if to remind me why, the frantic clicking of cameras outside reached us. Hot, tight emotions bubbled in me as Joel and Ben walked out the door.

Sandra turned from me and greeted people as they filed from the church, hugging and kissing, and murmuring, “Thanks for coming,” and, “Yes, back at the house, I’ll see you there.”

I stood idle at the door, suddenly feeling out of place, peering through the door as the coffin disappeared into the hearse.

“Smellie,” a voice murmured behind me, and I turned into the waiting arms of Brad. Amanda stood beside him and rubbed my back as I gasped desperately for air. I buried my head in the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

Brad pulled me away from him and kissed me on the forehead, passing me over for Amanda to wrap her arms around me.

“It was good of you to come,” Joel murmured to Brad as he joined us. I listened from my safe place with Amanda. Brad and Joel hadn’t ever really gotten along all that well, so I could hear the stiffness in Joel’s voice.

“It was important for me to be here for Mel,” Brad replied. “She was very close to your father.”

Joel nodded. “I know. It’s like having a sister sometimes.” I screwed up my nose at that.

“Are you coming back to the house for the wake?” Joel asked. Brad shook his head.

“Thanks for coming, guys. It really means a lot to me.” I gave them a watery smile. Brad moved in and hugged me again.

“You’re welcome, Smellie. See you again soon?”

“As soon as I know what’s happening with my ankle, and whether I’m off to Dubai in a week.” The tickets had been booked for months, and Joel had managed to change Steve’s flight into his name. I thought he was being a bit optimistic, but I hadn’t said anything.

I said goodbye to Brad and Amanda, who moved out of the pew and made their way out of the church.

Julie popped out from a pew about two-thirds of the way down the church and approached us.

She hugged Joel quietly, tear tracks all the way down both cheeks.

She turned to me then and put her arms around me.

I stood stiffly in her embrace, patting her back awkwardly.

It seemed weird that she was here. I didn’t think she knew Steve all that well.

“You coming to the wake?” Joel asked her. She shook her head, swiping a fresh tear from her face.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she replied. Joel nodded, as if that made all the sense in the world. What had happened between them in Melbourne? Maybe more than just a night of fun? Maybe she was here for Joel?

I clenched my jaw as Joel promised to be in touch with Julie in the next few days. Why was he getting in touch with her? He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she walked away.

“I’ll take you out to the car now, Stink, before everyone leaves the church and the media have you all to themselves. I’ll come straight back for Mum.”

I nodded, not wanting to think about him and Julie, or about why he had to escort me to the car under the cover of a crowd.

Joel gripped my elbow and together we marched through the church doors. Cameras clicked feverishly and TV crews converged.

“Mel Black!”

“Melanie!”

“Is your career over now?”

“Ignore it, Stink,” Joel muttered, marching me out the church gate and down the street to his car. He unlocked it, handing me into the passenger seat.

“I’ll be back as quickly as I can. Keep the doors locked,” he commanded, turning back towards the church.

I slumped against the seat and put my face into my hands. God, I hoped that Joel and Sandra weren’t too much longer .

“Mel!”

I instinctively glanced up, to find a camera pointing through the windscreen. Groaning, I turned away, keeping my head down and my hand shielding me from the photographer.

Hurry up, Joel! I pleaded silently.

“What, no smile for me, Mel? I thought you loved the camera! Can I get a moan like you gave Pete Levine? Did you know that Grant is marrying Susie Keens?”

My head snapped up at that, and the jerk got a bunch of shots of my shocked expression.

“Get the fuck away from her you piece of shit!”

Joel appeared with Sandra under his arm. He elbowed the photographer out of the way. I could hear frantic clicking outside the car as Joel got his mother in and slid hurriedly into the front seat.

“I don’t believe that arsehole!” Joel fumed as he drove away. I shook my head, not having the energy to find words. I was utterly spent. All I wanted was to curl up into a little ball in my comfy king-sized bed in Sandra’s house, cuddle Connor, and sleep.

“My ankle’s really sore, Joel,” I said quietly. I spun in my seat to look at Joel’s mother. “Sandra, would you mind if I kept to my room this afternoon, rested up a bit?”

Sandra smiled sadly at me. “Of course not, Mel. Don’t we all wish we could do the same?”

“Did you ever imagine that you would marry Grant?” Joel asked me quietly.

I shook my head. “Of course, my mother would have liked nothing more, but no. We were never going to work long-term – I can see that now. He’s egotistical enough that he needs a woman who will make him feel important. He couldn’t have that with me – he was too jealous of my career.”

Joel surprised me by smirking in my direction. “Stink, every man wants a woman who’ll make him feel important.”

I rolled my eyes. “Joel, your ego’s just as out of control as Grant’s!”

He shook his head, still smiling. “You’ve got a hell of a lot to learn about men, Stinky. But just a bit of advice now: everyone wants their partner to make them feel important. It’s just that everybody has a different idea of what important means.”

“How would you know? The only lasting relationship you’ve ever had is with your hand!”

Joel chuckled but didn’t respond. As usual, that frustrated me more than if he bit back. I’d thought he wouldn’t be able to go a day without being a smart-arse. It turned out I couldn’t either.