Chapter 3
By mid-afternoon the next day, Aria was feeling overwhelmed by kindness and condolences.
As people poured into Inglemere Memorial Hall for their funeral tea, she took a moment to escape.
In the bathroom, she pinned back the wayward tendrils that had escaped from her tight bun during the forest burial, and reflected on the service.
Despite hoping it would be a small affair for her own reasons, she had been pleased on Dad’s behalf to see people standing all the way up the hill.
The wildflower bouquet on the coffin was gorgeous and a local musician played his favourite Leonard Cohen song beautifully.
As the wind carried the final notes away with her father’s spirit, Aria had broken down, steadying herself against a tree while ignoring Felicity’s offer of a tissue.
Her stepmother had actually brought a whole box with her, crammed into the ageing backpack she carted around.
As if to accentuate their loss, a bell had tolled in the distance.
Even the birds seemed to quieten out of respect for a man who had served the community and the countryside his whole life.
Aria had been grateful to her father’s colleague for writing a eulogy that reflected Dad’s personality and values, and felt she couldn’t have done a better job herself.
Years ago, Eddie had asked her if she’d like to speak at his funeral and she’d brushed him off, telling him there would be no need as superheroes never died.
Her words seemed so blasé now. At the end of the service, when the undertaker had offered her a handful of dried wildflower heads from a basket, she had considered it a small victory that he’d approached her before Felicity.
And as her stepmother came forward to throw a few into the grave, Aria had thought about the last face-to-face conversation with her dad.
At his retirement do – a barn dance in this very hall – he’d started a quiet conversation about his legacy.
As the fiddle played and people promenaded around the room, he’d said she’d get what she needed after his death.
She told him not to concern himself with all that, certain the house would come to her.
That had been a year ago. His sudden death from a heart attack still didn’t feel real, but the inheritance couldn’t have come at a better time.
Making a couple of final adjustments to her hair in the bathroom mirror, Aria’s heart sank as Felicity pushed open the door and strode in.
She walked to the mirror and chuckled wanly at her reflection, pushing greying hair away from her face and retying the black-and-white scarf around her neck.
Having avoided Felicity so far, Aria waited for the barrage of questions that was sure to come her way.
Her stepmother had a habit of relentlessly checking on how everyone was doing, so much so that it felt as though she was drawing out your innermost thoughts for her own pleasure.
Aria was not a sharer; she’d handled herself just fine for the past few years.
As soon as they had arrived at the reception, Felicity had started going on about quiche for the vegetarians.
Who cared what was in the quiche when the worst that could happen had already happened?
As her stepmother scrubbed streaked mascara off her face with her knuckles, Aria decided to get out of there as quickly as she could.
‘Where’s that giant box of tissues when you need it?’ she muttered, turning away from the mirror.
‘I put it on one of the tables in case of spillages. You look exhausted, my love.’ When Felicity unexpectedly threw her arms around her, Aria stiffened, turning up her nose at the smell of home-made deodorant.
The woman had foisted recycled bottles of the stuff on everyone last Christmas with a bag of chocolate money and a tangerine.
Her stepmother’s hugs were to be avoided at all costs, but this time she was helpless to resist and counted four whole seconds of emoting before she was released.
You could be killed in a lightning storm in less time.
‘How are you?’ came the inevitable question, which was followed up with, ‘Is now a good time for a chat?’ Both were issued with a side order of sympathy. But Aria wasn’t hungry for companionship or in need of a cuddle. She just wanted the afternoon to be over.
‘I don’t think the restroom is the best venue for a heart-to-heart,’ she said, shuffling to the door.
‘You’re right. But I need to give you this.
I had hoped for some time to talk and for you to read through it.
’ Felicity picked up the bag she’d placed on the bathroom floor and pulled out a letter.
‘Perhaps you should come by tomorrow to discuss it. I can give you some context, try to explain?’ She tailed off with a frown, before brightening up again.
‘Would you like to pop around for tea? There will be oodles of leftover scones. A moment on the lips and all that.’ Felicity patted her hips and Aria wondered if she’d bought the black chiffon dress especially for the funeral.
‘Bring a bag. You’ll need to pick up the keys, and a bunch of other stuff,’ she added.
At those words Aria let herself feel hopeful.
A few weeks ago, she’d been fired from her job selling timeshares after becoming disillusioned with the high-pressure sales patter and manipulative techniques needed to secure deals.
When she couldn’t find another, she moved out of her flat.
Putting her stuff in the cheapest storage she could find, she couch-surfed with a former colleague for a couple of weeks, hoping for a break.
And one came out of the blue, in a way she hadn’t expected or wanted.
But she needed those keys to Dad’s house to restart her stalled life.
***
Saying goodbye to a handful of people, she escaped into the street and walked towards the B&B she’d spent her last few pounds on.
Still clutching the envelope Felicity had given her, she took a deep breath and ripped the seal, eager to see the gift in black and white.
She lifted out two documents. One was a letter in her dad’s handwriting.
She read through his words until she reached the part she was most anxious about. The content stopped her in her tracks.
Beloved daughter, I leave you my two most prized possessions – the hut and the hound
The hut.
Not the house.
His dog was lovely but hadn’t previously crossed her mind. The other piece of paper contained a will, which confirmed the unwanted gifts.