Page 11 of The Side Road (Love Chronicles #3)

FUNERAL

‘How do I look?’ Tash asked her father.

For Elsie’s funeral, Tash had chosen a long denim skirt and a black roll-neck jumper. With both arms by her sides, her head high and her fists clenched, she looked like a soldier waiting for military inspection.

Oliver smiled. ‘You look great.’

‘Have you seen my hair?’ Tash swivelled her head. A blue braid wound its way through her thick tresses. ‘I watched a video.’

‘It’s lovely,’ he confirmed. He licked his thumb and wiped a non-existent mark off her forehead.

Tash recoiled. ‘Ew, I hate it when you do that.’

‘That’s why I do it.’ Oliver stepped back. ‘How do I look?’ He opened his arms.

He wore a dark suit, grey shirt, and black tie – too formal for a country graveyard – but it was the only suit he had packed.

Before the missing money, he would have said Elsie deserved his best suit.

Despite her antagonistic nature, he had a soft spot for her.

With all her heart, she had loved his daughter.

Now, the soft spot was hardening into a kernel.

‘Pretty good,’ Tash said. ‘But there’s something on your face.’ She licked her thumb and rubbed it over his chin.

Oliver laughed. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes.’ She caught his eye. ‘We’ve been through worse.’

‘We have. I’m here if you need me.’ He drew her in for a hug. ‘Come on. You know how much Elsie hated to be kept waiting.’

‘Lateness is disrespectful.’ Tash affected Elsie’s voice as they shuffled out the front door.

The old cemetery was on the Bells Line of Road, west of town. At a higher elevation, it overlooked the surrounding valley. A light mid-morning fog had settled over the area, covering the gravestones in mist.

Oliver parked the Citroen in the carpark at the side of the cemetery. With Tash, he made his way across the freshly cut grass toward the gravestone, a silver layer of fog covering the ground. The surrounding valley was a striking mix of green and gold and the sky so pale, it was a relief.

Reverend Rebecca raised her hand, signalling them from the far side. As they drew near, a light rain started to fall. Tash took her father’s hand. ‘It’s just like Pet Cemetery ,’ she whispered.

They were the first to arrive.

‘No trouble finding your way?’ Reverend Rebecca asked.

Oliver replied with a smile. After that, the conversation paused. Small talk didn’t seem appropriate, and the reverend offered nothing, so they waited in silence, breathing in the misty air.

The headstone, already in place, was ornate. A slab of cream marble shot with gold veins. For the details, the engraver had selected a stylish font. Near the base was a pictorial scene of a lamb and a descending dove.

The coffin was on a podium behind them. Oliver arched his neck, taking a closer look.

He hadn’t expected Elsie to be buried in a cardboard box, but this was top of the range.

Solid walnut, adorned with brass handles and a tiered lid.

He imagined the interior as a plush resting place.

Figures entered his head – he couldn’t help it – more than ten thousand, but less than twenty.

Reverend Rebecca checked the time on her watch, which made Oliver do the same; five minutes to ten. The mourners were cutting it fine. All at once, several cars pulled into the carpark. Blanche and Leo joined them. Arthur, the ex-newsagent owner, was behind, with Troublemaker Flora holding his arm.

Arthur sidled up to Tash and patted her fondly on the head.

Recalling Mia’s handsy comments, Oliver moved Tash to the side and positioned himself between the old man and his daughter. He would keep an eye on Arthur. Overly familiar, he hung around too often for Oliver’s liking. You could never be too sure about some people.

‘Mia’s on her way,’ Blanche whispered. ‘The BMW wouldn’t start. She called a taxi – it took forever.’

A few minutes later, Mia arrived wearing a short black dress with long sleeves and boots. Her hair was damp, and she shivered. Oliver’s immediate reaction was to keep her warm. When he offered her his jacket, she shook her head.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said to Tash. ‘All this fog, I feel like we’re in a movie.’

‘It’s certainly atmospheric,’ Blanche agreed.

The reverend started on time. She mentioned Elsie’s husband, Bob, her daughter, and her granddaughter.

The efforts Elsie had made for her family and the community.

Elsie baked an excellent sponge. What else was there to say?

Dozens of anecdotes, some good, some funny, and a few terrible stories that could never be repeated, came to Oliver.

He reprimanded himself for not taking more control of the service.

Reverend Rebecca had summed up eight decades in less than fifteen minutes, and it amounted to an unremarkable life, which Oliver knew wasn’t true.

Looking around at the gathering, he realised he probably knew more about her than most of the mourners.

Several stories he would take to his grave.

After the reverend read the relevant religious passages that Elsie had requested, the crowd sang ‘I Will Rise’. ‘Amazing Grace’ followed. Tash read ‘The Psalm of David’. She had memorised the piece, her voice clear and bright in the crisp morning air. Oliver smiled, quietly proud of his daughter.

As the crowd dispersed, people shared their condolences.

‘We found some old photo albums in the garage,’ Blanche told Tash. ‘After the refreshments, we thought you might like to spend the afternoon with us. We could go through them together. There are pictures of your mother when she was about your age.’

‘Yes, I want to do that,’ Tash said.

Blanche turned to Oliver. ‘Can you drive Mia back to town? You can collect Tash from ours later. No rush. Take your time.’

‘Of course.’ Oliver turned to Mia and gestured toward the carpark.

Through the mist, the burgundy Citroen gleamed.

Mia stared at the vehicle, her eyes travelling along the chrome hood down the teardrop profile toward the back end.

It was impossible not to appreciate the classic design.

Against the backdrop of the cemetery, the car looked like it had fallen from the sky.

Oliver waited by the car. Dressed in his suit, he looked boyishly handsome.

The suit fitted him perfectly; Italian, high-quality worsted lambswool.

Tightly woven fibres give a smoother finish on the surface of the fabric.

She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off the textile all morning. Luckily, the service was short.

As she stepped closer to the car, he opened the passenger door. She slid onto the bench seat. Her gaze was caught by the elegant dash, the single-spoke steering wheel, and the plush leather upholstery. Inside, the vehicle was immaculate.

He climbed into the driver’s seat beside her. His huge hands rested on the steering wheel. His lean body reclined comfortably on the bench. When he started the engine, the car levitated.

‘Oh my,’ she said.

‘Hydropneumatics suspension,’ he told her.

‘It’s a beautiful car. Did it belong to Elsie?’

‘No, it did not.’

She caught him glancing at her bare legs, which were covered in goosebumps. Fiddling with the knobs, he turned up the heating. ‘Thank you for coming.’

‘Of course. I wanted to be here for Tash. I also thought you might need the numbers. Elsie wasn’t exactly…’ She paused. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply…’

‘It’s fine. Where am I taking you?’

‘Back to the store.’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘My fingers are like ice.’

Mia’s phone rang, and she fished it out of her bag.

It was her junior shop assistant, Saige.

Mia answered. ‘You were supposed to cover for me this morning. I’ve been calling and…

’ Mia paused. ‘I see. But here’s the thing: birthdays are not holidays.

We all work on our birthdays.’ Mia paused again.

‘It’s not traumatic, it’s work. We all do it.

There are a dozen boxes and orders that need… ’

Tilting her head, Mia looked up at the roof of the car. ‘That’s not what gaslighting means. I’m sure he didn’t mean to…’ her voice trailed off.

The call ended. Mia dropped her phone into her bag and glanced at Oliver. ‘Boyfriend troubles – hers, not mine.’

Approaching town, they drove through a patch of rain and Oliver switched on the wipers. ‘So, how long have you had your motorbike licence?’ he asked.

‘About five years. I rode a scooter in the city. It took me three tries to get my learner’s. I couldn’t commit to the high-speed braking test.’

‘Is the maximum speed still twenty-five kilometres?’

‘Yes.’ She laughed and looked out the window. ‘This is just an observation, so please don’t take it the wrong way, but you’re a very slow driver.’

‘Are you in a hurry?’

‘Well…’

‘We’re almost there.’

When they stopped at the traffic lights, he removed a chamois from the console and wiped the dust motes from the dash.

From the corner of her eye, she watched him.

He smiled and put the rag away. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he said, ‘The headlights turn with the steering system.’

‘Impressive.’

Five minutes later, Oliver parked outside the store. As she was undoing her seatbelt and thanking him, he turned to her .

‘Do you need a hand?’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘That’s…it’s kind of you to offer, but no. I’ll manage.’ She made a point of checking the time. ‘April will be here soon. Any minute. Thank you.’ She opened the car door, fled up the steps, and disappeared inside the store.

Oliver sat back in his seat, savouring the last moments of her presence. In profile, she had a sweet little snub on the end of her nose. When she got nervous, she sniffed. She sniffed a lot.

His phone beeped, a message from Blanche. The wake was a non-event – eight people had turned up. They were now taking Tash back to her house to look at the old photographs.

Thank you. See you soon, he replied.

No rush. Why don’t you see if Mia needs a hand with the store? She’s short-staffed , Blanche replied.

Everyone had the same idea. Everyone except Mia. There was only one place he wanted to be. He opened his door and followed Mia into the store.