3. Jamie
The wake is held at Tom’s parent’s house.
There’s a gazebo in the garden, and the doors from the conservatory are wide open, allowing free access between the house and garden.
There are people milling about everywhere, the house is full to bursting with the amount of people that have turned up to say goodbye to Tom, it’s humbling.
The majority of our regiment is here, intermingled with Tom’s relatives and the friends we grew up with.
The atmosphere is somewhat lighter than it was an hour previously, and there’s even the sound of gentle laughter somewhere in the house.
The conversation is full of stories about Tom, from tales about him as a baby to squaddies sharing never-before-heard secrets from basic training at Catterick Garrison.
Thoughts of Tom’s face, if he could hear some of the things they’re disclosing, bring a smile to my face. It’s the first time I’ve smiled properly in weeks, and it somehow feels a little like a betrayal. It’s that sobering thought that causes me to pull myself up and fix my sombre expression in place again.
My reverence is interrupted, “It’s okay to carry on, to smile and be happy.”
Rachel hands me an opened bottle of cold beer.
“He’d love all this.
He’d have been proud of you today for taking care of Scarlett, you know that, right?”
Our eyes survey the garden, and the sea of people gathered outside, where I seem to have settled in a quiet corner.
I lift the beer bottle to my mouth and take a long drink.
Savouring the taste as the amber liquid slides down my throat.
“Is it okay to be angry? I mean, you said it’s fine to carry on and be happy but what does it say about me as a friend if my main emotion at the moment is anger?”
I can’t look Rachel in the eye now I’ve admitted that out loud.
I hear her quick intake of breath, and it makes me think that maybe it’s not okay.
Maybe what I’m feeling says more about me as a friend than I want it to.
Rachel’s words are tentative when she speaks.
“What are you angry at? I don’t understand,”
I can feel her studying me intently.
My shoulders shrug slightly.
“I’m angry that he’s dead.
I’m angry he died and now we have to deal with all this shit.
I’m even more angry that I wasn’t in the truck with him and I’m still alive.”
I keep my eyes fixed on my all-too-shiny boots, my reflection stares back at me.
“I’m here trying to make sense of it, just trying to get through every day.
He should be here too.”
I know today isn’t the day to rid myself of all the torture I feel but I can’t stop now I’ve started the purge.
She seems shocked at my words, and maybe I am a little too.
But I am angry.
Rachel turns slightly to face me now.
“How can you be angry that he was killed and you weren’t?”
Rachel’s face is pale and drawn as I study her features.
My head shakes swiftly from side to side.
“We should have gone together.
I should have been in that Land Rover with him, it should have been me driving the truck.”
I run my free hand through my hair, my body sags under the weight of my guilt.
Rachel swallows audibly.
“Have you told anyone else how you feel? Does Scarlett know?”
I can tell she’s in turmoil about my confession.
I shake my head slowly as I remember the look on Scarlett’s face just before she collapsed into my arms the day I returned home.
“No, they have enough to deal with right now.
They don’t need me adding to their misery.”
Rachel looks as though she may vomit any minute but quickly pulls it together as Scarlett approaches us.
“Hey, how’re you holding up? Have you managed something to eat?”
I ask Scarlett.
We’re all worried about her, she’s barely slept since the day Tom died, and getting her to eat anything is a battle.
I flew home a few days after Tom died but most of my time has been spent with Jack, Julia and Scarlett.
I’ve only been home to sleep, and that’s been fleeting at best.
Scarlett goes to pieces whenever I leave her side, so I’m sticking nearby.
Scarlett takes up residence on my knee, as she often does when we hang out together, she rests her head on my shoulder as she speaks.
“Crisps… I’ve eaten some crisps.
Mum keeps feeding me them every time she passes me.
I just want to get out of here now for a bit,”
She shifts a little where she is.
I don’t need to look at her to know she’s watching me, “Will you come with me for a walk? Just down by the river for a while.
He liked it there and I think I’d kinda like the peace.
Mum won’t mind if you’re with me,”
a quick glance down at the two large sorrowful eyes staring back at me and I can’t refuse.
Not that I ever would refuse her anything, she’s always had Tom and me wrapped around her finger.
My hand voluntarily rubs small circles across her back in a soothing motion.
“Sure, let me just change out of this first,”
I motion at my dress uniform, it’ll be a relief to get out of it to be honest, I just didn’t want to be disrespectful and get changed too early.
“Be right back.”
Scarlett stands wearily, allowing me to move before she sits and snuggles into Rachel’s side for comfort.
My heart breaks a little more as I see the pain behind her eyes, the anger I feel swells again as I watch Tom’s sister try to hold it together.
His family shouldn’t have to deal with all this shit.
He was too young.
After slipping into my well-worn jeans and a clean T-shirt, I head back out to the garden in search of Scarlett, bumping into Jack in the kitchen on my way.
“Hey, I’m going to get Scarlett out of here for a while, is that okay? Just down to the river,”
my brow furrows in question.
“I won’t keep her away too long.”
The old man nods as he smiles up at me.
His eyes don’t light up now when he smiles; instead, they remain glassy as he tries to be strong for his family.
“Try get her to eat something will you?”
Jack pats my arm; the pain is evident in his eyes.
“I’ve already lost one child.”
Pain stabs at my chest, “Yeah, I’ll see what I can do but she’s stubborn, you know I can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
My smile is gentle but meant to reassure the old man.
The man before me is broken, I can see that quite clearly.
The man I looked up to my whole life is crumbling, and I feel helpless to do anything.
Jack pats my cheek tenderly.
“If anyone can get through to her, it’s you, son.
She adores you just as much as she does…did Tom.”
Tears brim at his eyes as he raises his immaculately pressed handkerchief to pat away the unshed tears before they have time to escape.
I have no answer for that, so I dip my head in acknowledgement before leaving to find Scarlett.
When I find her, she’s swaying gently on the old garden swing that we spent hours playing on as kids, and she too has changed out of her more formal dress and into denim shorts that she’s paired with an off-the-shoulder top.
Her long auburn hair has been unclipped and hangs loosely around her shoulders in soft waves.
She looks so small and fragile on that swing.
The urge to protect her is immense and overwhelms me in that moment.
Scarlett must sense that I’m behind her because her head whips around to check me out.
The air rushes from my lungs as I see her wipe the tears from her cheeks for the millionth time today.
I’m not sure she’ll ever stop crying, but she manages a slight smile as she hops off the swing and makes her way towards me. “Let’s get outta here,”
I say quietly as her arm snakes around my waist, and she tucks her head into my chest as she falls in step beside me.
“If you’re lucky, I’ll treat you to an ice-cream with all that shit you like on top.”
She sighs deeply, I hear the breath catch in her throat.
“I could hardly refer to anything about my life as lucky at the minute, Spooky, but I’ll take the ice-cream if only to stop you all from worrying I’m about to starve myself to death.”
Inwardly I cringe at my choice of words.
I really need to keep myself in check, but at least she’s agreed to eat for me.
Swiftly I try to lighten the mood.
“I don’t remember giving you permission to use that nickname, missy.”
I’m teasing her, and she knows it.
The nickname comes from my army friends, it’s kind of a tradition.
Nobody is known by their actual name, everyone is given a moniker, well everyone that makes it through basic training, that is.
It’s almost like your first badge of honour.
My last name is Kasper, thanks to my father’s German descent somewhere along the line.
I think I’m lucky the guys didn’t settle on calling me Ghost - as in Caspar the friendly Ghost - believe me, they tried it out, although that is probably way cooler than Spooky, but army nicknames are anything but cool.
This ain’t Top Gun, and I’m no Maverick, although I do own a pair of those sunglasses.
She nudges my shoulder playfully.
“You love it.
Who picked Tom’s?”
Scarlett enquires looking up at me.
She’s so desperate to keep the connection with him; we’ve talked about this so many times in the past that she knows this story inside out but I get the feeling that she just wants to hear about her brother.
So, I indulge her once more.
“It was a joint regiment effort.
Couldn’t really have picked anything better though, could they?”
It had been a constant source of amusement in the barracks, with a surname like Wood, you really only could pick ‘Morning’ as a suitable call sign for a new army recruit.
But it hadn’t taken long for that to become ‘Boner’ instead.
Her arm tightens even more around my waist.
“I remember him blushing when I made him explain why they’d picked that nickname, of course I knew, I just wanted him to say it out loud.”
Scarlett smiles through her memories and it goes some way to easing my pain.
“He was so embarrassed as he tried to explain without using the words hard-on, dick or erection.
I swear he thought I was still a virgin at nineteen.”
I pretend to be shocked and gasp as I cover my mouth in mock horror, “Wait.
You mean you weren’t!”
I swear she almost chuckles but second guesses herself and stops it before it escapes her lips.
“I miss him and it hurts.”
She states simply.
And now I can no longer speak.
Instead, I just take her hand from where it clings around my waist and grasp her hand in mine instead.
As I squeeze it tightly, I only hope it offers her a little comfort.