Chapter 5
Brian Hamilton did a great job with Uncle Jack’s funeral. He dressed in a black top hat and tails and walked solemnly in front of the hearse, as Mum and the rest of us looked on with heavy hearts.
There was a good turnout of mourners, despite Jack having no children. Neighbours stood alongside blokes from the pub he frequented, and staff from the high street café he visited for breakfast. It comforted Mum knowing how well he had been thought of.
Josh and his wife, Zoe, had travelled from their home down south, and I thought my brother looked tired. My three-year-old nephew, George, behaved impeccably at the service, and tucked into pasta at the pub afterwards.
‘So, how’s work going?’ I ask my brother as we sit nursing drinks in the pub, whilst Zoe has taken George outside to the children’s play area.
‘Stressful.’ He takes a long glug of his pint.
‘I guess a job in sales was always going to be stressful,’ I remark.
‘That’s true, but I was always very good at it. Even though it wouldn’t have been my first choice of career.’
It’s a shame that we often fall into careers that aren’t necessarily our dream. Josh had been a promising painter, but never really pursued it.
‘It’s never too late to switch careers,’ I suggest, Josh only being in his thirties.
‘Maybe.’ He shrugs. ‘But the job pays well, at least it did.’
‘What’s changed?’
‘The economy, I guess. People aren’t buying new cars as much these days, opting for hiring them, or buying older ones which means my commission has reduced,’ he reveals. ‘The electric car thing had a boom for a while and people were waiting months for them on order. Not so much now. I’ll be honest, Jack’s inheritance has come at the right time.’ He sighs.
‘So, what will you do with the money?’ I ask.
‘Pay off a load of debt,’ he admits as he takes a sip of his beer. ‘How about you?’ he asks, a strain showing in his eyes, I can’t help noticing.
‘Oh, Josh, I’ve got this crazy idea that won’t go away. I’ve seen a house in Corfu that I’m thinking of buying. It’s a bit of a do-up, but you know how much I love it there.’
‘Sounds great. You should go for it.’ He smiles.
‘Do you think so?’
‘For sure, as long as it’s a sound property. At least you had the sense not to saddle yourself with a load of debt.’
I think of Josh’s large house in Essex, the two cars on the driveway, and the immaculate image they work hard to maintain. The nice clothes, the stylish home interior. They have bought into a lifestyle that involves a lot of entertaining and spending vast amounts of money I imagine. Josh glances at his expensive wristwatch which, if I’m honest, I would never have imagined him wearing. Typical of him to do the right thing though and try and settle some debts.
‘Anyway, we should probably make a move soon to try and avoid the rush hour traffic,’ he says as he finishes his drink.
‘You’re not staying over?’ I ask, shocked. ‘It’s a long journey home, and I’m not sure you’re in a fit state to drive, it’s been an emotional day.’
‘I can’t afford to take time off,’ he says honestly. ‘And Zoe must be back tomorrow as she has an important meeting with a potential client. I won’t lie, I am a little tired though.’
My sister-in-law works as an advertising executive in a huge office in London.
‘Then you must stay over. Plus, I’d give anything to spend an extra few hours with this one,’ I say as George runs back into the pub with Zoe close behind keeping an eye on him.
I place my nephew on my knee and tickle him, and he giggles.
Dad appears then, with a half-bottle of whisky and some glasses on a tray and sits down preparing for a toast to Jack.
‘I’d better not. We were thinking of getting off soon,’ Josh tells Dad, although a bit half-heartedly this time.
‘You’re heading back? Does your mother know?’ Dad says, glancing towards Mum, who is chatting to the lady from the library. ‘She’s got your old room ready.’
These days, Josh’s old room is a pleasant guest room with double bed and a sofa bed for George. I know Mum would love them to have a sleepover more frequently than they do, but accepts the fact that they have busy lives. It is Uncle Jack’s funeral though. Surely Mum had a right to think that they would be staying over?
‘No, it’s just… well, we’ll miss the traffic about now. It will be hell later.’ He eyes the drinks on the tray for a second. ‘But you know what? Sod it. How often do I get to see my family, and I’m burying my uncle, after all.’
He takes a shot of whisky and knocks it back in one. As he heads to the bar a few minutes later, Zoe joins him, and I can see she has a face like thunder.
‘Everything alright?’ asks Mum, when Josh returns, having taken in the scene at the bar.
‘Fine.’ He shrugs. ‘But Zoe is heading back shortly as planned. Me and George can go home on the train tomorrow, just the two of us, can’t we, buddy?’
‘Will you be able to get the time off work?’ asks Mum, looking a bit uncertain.
‘I’m pretty sure it won’t be a problem, we’re not that busy, and I’m at my uncle’s funeral, after all. I’ll give my boss a call in a minute. You like the train, don’t you, George?’ He turns to my nephew.
‘Yeah,’ says George as Josh ruffles his hair.
That night at Mum’s, with a tired-out George fast asleep, Josh and I sit chatting in the lounge.
‘So, go on then, I know you are going to ask,’ he says as he swirls a nightcap around in his glass.
‘About you and Zoe?’
My brother lets out a deep sigh.
‘So, is there anything to tell?’
‘Not really.’ He shrugs. ‘We barely see each other, both working all hours. Zoe still works when she’s at home in the evening, answering emails, and goodness knows what. We seem to be bickering a lot lately,’ he reveals. ‘To be perfectly honest, things aren’t that great right now.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe you’re both just under a lot of pressure in your jobs?’
‘Maybe, but we’ve put ourselves under pressure outside of it. Don’t get me wrong, I like our home, and our friends. Well, I say friends, they are the people in the cul-de-sac really. Somehow we lost touch with our old mates when we moved down to Essex.’
‘Or moved up? They do say that happens when you start moving in different circles,’ I suggest.
‘I’m not sure it’s moving up exactly, although Zoe insists on keeping up with the neighbours, wanting the best of everything. She spent four grand on a bloody marble-topped kitchen table.’ He runs his fingers through his hair. ‘Who really cares about that sort of thing, especially as we hardly ever use it.’ He shakes his head.
‘Well, you should do.’ I can hardly believe they spent that much on a table.
‘Try telling her that. Everything is for show.’ He shrugs.
Listening to my brother, none of this sounds like the Josh I remember. He used to be an easy-going surfer type, who enjoyed painting and hoped to maybe sell some of his work one day. Then along came the beautiful Zoe, who turned his head, and somehow he got into sales, which he discovered he was good at. I look at my handsome brother, his slightly curly hair and that wide smile, and brown eyes that crinkle at the corners when he laughs. I also can’t help wondering if the delectable Zoe has taken advantage of his easy-going nature.
‘You should come and visit. Stay over,’ he suggests.
‘I’d really like that. You should come and stay too. You can have my bedroom; I’ll take the double sofa,’ I offer.
‘I’d take the sofa bed,’ he says, finishing his drink. ‘As I would probably come up on my own.’
‘Oh, Josh, I had no idea things were so strained at home. I mean, how would I? Me up here, you down there.’
‘There’s not much you could do, I suppose. Anyway, it’s good to talk to you, sis. Why is it that sad events like funerals are the things that bring families together?’
‘That’s true, isn’t it? I guess everyone is so busy, but we should make the time.’
‘Shall we finish this off?’ asks Josh, reaching for the bottle.
‘Just a drop. I can’t be doing with a hangover even working from home tomorrow,’ I tell him.
We chat for a while longer, sharing memories of Uncle Jack until I can barely keep my eyes open.
‘Right, time for bed I think,’ I tell my brother. ‘Or I will go past it, and lie awake for hours.’
‘I know that feeling,’ he admits as he swirls his wine around in his glass, and I wonder what is keeping my brother awake at night.
Outside of our respective bedroom doors, I squeeze Josh in a hug, sensing he maybe needs it right now.
‘Night, sis.’
‘Night, Josh, see you in the morning. Bring your appetite to the breakfast table. Dad’s cooking.’