Chapter 13
Nel and Cath sat in the car watching dark figures exchange subdued handshakes and polite embraces on the steps of the church under an overcast sky.
‘There’s Lauren,’ Nel said as her sister came around the side path with Steve and the kids trailing behind her, wearing a tight navy suit with heels and a wide-brimmed hat.
She looked like she was going to the Melbourne Cup.
Nel looked down at her black jumpsuit and ankle boots, wondering if she was under-dressed.
‘We should go in, I suppose,’ Cath said.
Nel gave her a nod, steeling herself, and unclicked her seatbelt. This would all be over soon.
Dust particles danced in shafts of sunlight that beamed through the stained-glass windows overhead as Nel and Cath made their way down the long aisle towards Rob’s coffin.
The pews on either side were full. Nel kept her eyes on the carpet.
It was the colour of a glass of merlot with the light behind it.
A rich dark red. Had it not been changed in the sixteen years since Maddie was buried?
She was certain it was the same colour back then.
She slid into the front row beside her mum as the heavy wooden doors were closed with a clunk that echoed through the church, sending a hush over the congregation.
Nel reached for the booklet that sat on the ledge in front of the pew.
A ripple of emotion rose up inside her at the sight of her father’s face, his smile wide, the late afternoon light catching his hair giving him a warm glow.
There was a heavy silence as Poppy and the boys placed special gifts on the coffin, one by one.
Poppy’s was a photo in a silver frame. In it, she stood behind her grandpa, her arms around his neck, their faces cheek to cheek.
She placed it carefully in front of the wildflower arrangement, which had been selected by Lauren.
Leo, who loved surfing like Rob, gave him a block of Mrs Palmer’s wax, which he positioned next to the photo.
When Nel asked him later why he chose it, he’d said, ‘Because the waves are always good in heaven and you get to surf whenever you want to.’ Little Archie had chosen a beloved Lego Star Wars spaceship that Rob had helped him build the Christmas before.
Once they’d given their gifts, the boys squeezed past to sit between Lauren and Steve, but Poppy sat next to Nel and felt for her hand as an organ rang out. The congregation struggled through a hymn Nel didn’t know.
An elderly priest with jowly cheeks addressed the congregation.
‘We come together today to celebrate the life of our beloved husband, father, friend and trusted doctor, Robert Foley,’ he said in a deep monotone, ‘to give thanks for the times we shared, and to bless him and commit him to the hands of God.’
Poppy looked at Nel and smiled weakly, then turned her eyes back to the priest. Tears slowly trickled down her flushed cheeks.
Nel looked at the coffin again. It was large—Rob was six foot one—and made of dark glossy mahogany.
So different from the small white one that had sat in the same place sixteen years before.
That day, the church had also been packed full.
Fragments of memories flashed in Nel’s mind.
Flannel flowers. ‘Amazing Grace’, sorrowful and stirring.
Faye’s face contorted in pain, her knees weak.
‘I’d like to invite the Honourable Geoffrey Marshall MP to speak to us about Rob’s life,’ the priest said.
Geoff appeared from somewhere behind her, buttoning the jacket of his navy suit as he walked up the steps to the lectern and took his time to adjust the microphone. Nel could sense the congregation lean in.
She was so used to seeing him on TV that it was strange to see him in person.
In recent years he’d become the media’s go-to politician for a pithy soundbite against anything progressive.
Immigration policy. Climate change. Trans rights.
Nel didn’t agree with his politics, but he’d been a loyal friend to her father.
He looked up and spoke steadily. ‘Robert Foley was a great man …’ He paused for effect. ‘And it was an honour to call him my friend.’
His delivery was that of a seasoned politician, the cadences mastered over a long career in the public eye.
Maddie used to impersonate him, exaggerating the pauses, the emphasis, imitating the lectures he gave whenever she was in trouble, which was often.
Nel felt the sudden urge to laugh bubble up inside her and she bit her top lip, trying to block out Geoff Marshall’s voice. What the hell was wrong with her?
When the feeling passed, she looked in the direction where he’d been sitting, a couple of rows back on the other side, searching for Faye.
Finding her profile, Nel watched her, sitting motionless, eyes downcast. As though she could sense Nel’s gaze, she looked up and their eyes met.
For a moment, it was like they were connected by an invisible thread across the church.
Nel was about to turn away when she noticed Ryan Warner sitting behind Faye. His small dark eyes met hers, a slight smirk playing on his lips. Her skin prickled all over.
*
Nel sat in the middle seat, sandwiched between two Warner boys, watching Maddie’s hand caress Ryan’s thigh as he drove.
Green-grey scrub flashed past the car window.
How much further out was this place? Maddie had made it sound like it was just out of town.
Nel flattened herself against the seat as Dylan leaned across her to take a handful of hot chips from the carton on Lachie’s lap.
She shouldn’t have come. She didn’t even like parties, but Maddie had begged. ‘Please, Nellie?’ she’d said, putting her hands together in prayer beneath her chin and making puppy-dog eyes. ‘Mum won’t let me go unless you come too.’ Nel was powerless to say no to Maddie.
It had been three weeks since Maddie had kissed Ryan Warner at the end-of-season party at the surf club and they’d been inseparable ever since.
Faye was struggling with her fourteen-year-old daughter being in a relationship with a Year 11 boy.
Nel had overheard Faye telling her own mum that she didn’t know why Maddie couldn’t find a boyfriend her own age.
Cath had reassured Faye. ‘At least he’s from a good family,’ she’d said.
Maddie had laughed when Nel relayed the conversation. ‘Have you seen Year 8 boys?’ she’d said, sticking a finger down her throat, pretending to gag.
Nel shifted position, trying to make herself smaller, but Lachie just let his knee lean further against hers. The car started to slow as Ryan turned onto a dirt road and stopped at a farm gate.
‘Can you do the honours?’ Ryan said to Maddie, who unclipped her seatbelt and jumped out. She pushed open the gate, then put one hand on her hip and playfully waved them through with the other, her striking red hair cascading over her shoulders. The engine idled as she shut the gate.
As she reached the car and put out a hand to open the passenger door, the car lurched forward.
‘Ryan!’ she exclaimed, running to catch up with the car.
Lachie and Dylan cracked up. Ryan sniggered, watching her in the rear-view mirror as she approached the car.
When she reached out to open the door, he hit the accelerator again. Dylan hooted. Lachie threw his head back, laughing. Nel turned around to look at Maddie. She was walking this time, smiling good-naturedly. When she reached for the handle, the car lurched forward again.
‘Ryan!’
He did it twice more. Lachie clutched his stomach as though he was in pain from laughing. Maddie’s smile had dropped slightly. Her arms hung by her sides. As she approached the car for the fifth time, Nel willed him not to do it again, but again, the car lurched forward.
‘Stop it, Ryan!’ Nel said. ‘It’s not funny.’ Her tone was sharper than intended.
‘Oh great, the fun police are here,’ he muttered.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Dylan said, wiping tears from his eyes. ‘It’s just a fucking joke.’
As Maddie approached the car again, Ryan’s eyes met Nel’s in the rear-view mirror. He held her gaze as he did it again. Nel’s eyes felt hot. She pinched the back of her hand and told herself not to cry. She would never live that down.
The next time, he let Maddie in.
She punched his tanned bicep playfully. ‘Bloody hell, Ryan!’
‘You know what I like about you, Maddie?’ he said. ‘You know how to take a joke.’
He kissed her on the mouth. Nel looked down at the carpet between her knees.
Lachie threw the empty chip carton at Ryan’s head. ‘Knock it off, mate!’
Ryan tossed it over his shoulder.
As he drove off, Maddie’s hand was once again caressing his thigh.
*
Nel shifted on the hard wooden pew and tried to refocus on Geoff’s speech, but she was rattled by the memory. She thought of Sophie. Was she here too?
‘So thank you, Rob,’ Geoff went on, ‘for your wonderful conversation, your offbeat sense of humour, your listening ear, your wise counsel, and your unwavering support and friendship over the years. I’m sure I speak on behalf of everyone here when I say …
thank you.’ He looked at the coffin. ‘Godspeed, Rob.’ He lowered his head and walked back to his seat.
Nel was desperate to look back at Ryan—to see if she was imagining the smirk and whether Sophie was by his side—but she didn’t dare. Lauren was reading now. Nel zoned in on the words of the poem, trying to think of her father instead of Ryan Warner.
‘Death is nothing at all,’ Lauren read. ‘It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened.’
Nel felt a rush of heat in her body. Death is nothing at all?
Tell that to Faye and Geoff. Maddie wasn’t in the next room, she was gone, and now Nel’s father was gone too.
She thought about what Lauren had said, that she’d made herself into a fugitive.
It wasn’t true. She’d done nothing to deserve the hand she was dealt.
She’d had no choice but to leave, and now she was basically a stranger.
She turned around again and looked at Ryan.
She could see a lock of blonde hair by his side, but if it was Sophie, her face was obscured by a large man sitting in front.
Ryan’s eyes met Nel’s again. This time she stared him down, pinning him with her glare until everything but his dark eyes was a blur. Until he looked away.
‘All is well. Nothing is hurt, nothing is lost,’ Lauren read. ‘One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!’
Nel bristled at the idiotic sentiment as Lauren walked solemnly back to her seat.
After a final blessing, the priest asked the family to come forward to escort the coffin from the church. Nel walked by her mother’s side, behind the coffin, eyes down as they made their way up the aisle.
She squinted in the glare as they stepped outside and stood to one side, watching the mourners spilling from the church doors onto the steps.
She scanned for Ryan but couldn’t see him, thank god.
She was bracing herself for the inevitable encounters with people from her past when a familiar face appeared.
‘Hey there, old friend,’ Jimmy said, dark eyes shining.
Tears welled in her eyes as he pulled her into a hug, her face pressed against the collar of his jacket.
‘You did good, sweetheart,’ he said when they parted. ‘That was tough.’
She nodded, looking at him through tears.
He’d changed since she’d last seen him, but that must be over a decade ago, she realised now, when their paths had crossed in Sydney.
He seemed taller, although maybe it was actually that he was broader, more solid.
His curls were just as she remembered them, but his easy smile was now on the tanned face of a man, rather than a boy.
‘I got you something,’ he said, putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out a Caramello Koala. He’d first given her one the day after she ran from history and hid in the toilets. When she’d arrived in class, wishing she was invisible, he’d slipped the chocolate onto her desk.
She took the small yellow packet, shaking her head. ‘Please tell me you’re coming to the wake?’
‘Wouldn’t miss it.’
She exhaled. It would be bearable if he was there. Just.
Nearby, an undertaker spoke to Lauren, pointing to his watch. Nel looked back at Jimmy. ‘It’s just the family going to the burial, so I’ll see you there soon.’
The priest shuffled forward as the coffin was lowered into the ground.
Behind him, the sea was a cold grey. Nel shivered, crossing her arms tightly against the bracing wind.
Lauren, who stood beside her in a full-length puffer, gave Nel’s woefully inadequate leather jacket a withering look, then she took off her woollen scarf and passed it to her.
Nel took it gratefully, wrapping it twice around her neck so that it covered her chin.
‘In the name of God, the merciful Father, we commit the body of Robert John Foley to the peace of the grave.’
They threw handfuls of dirt onto the coffin as a kookaburra laughed raucously in a gum tree overhead.