Chapter 13 Charlotte
Charlotte
The funeral was more fun than Charlotte had expected such an event to be.
Having personally informed as many of Grandma’s groups as she could find contacts for, and then put an advertisement in the local paper, the crematorium was full, at least a hundred people showing up to see Grandma off on her final journey.
Grandma had always attracted positive people, from her sports clubs to her social groups.
While there were plenty of tears to go around, there was also an abundance of smiles and laughter.
Charlotte, standing by the door with Kelly offering moral support beside her, greeted a seemingly endless line of old women, and more than a few old men, one or two who chewed around their false teeth and muttered about how they’d wished they could have got a ring on her finger when they’d had a chance.
‘Most eligible widow in town,’ one old man said, squinting at her through bifocals while leaning on a Zimmer frame. ‘Had it not been for those arthritic joints of hers, I’d have had a ring on her finger and got her back up the aisle.’
‘There’s something about age that loosens your tongue, isn’t there?’ Kelly said.
‘Isn’t it refreshing?’
‘To a point. We haven’t had any weirdos yet.’ She sighed. ‘Give it time.’
‘It’s a funeral,’ Charlotte said with a cheery smile. ‘For many, it’ll be their last chance.’
‘Shall we have a bet on who’s next?’ Kelly said. ‘My pound’s on that old dear over there. She’s leaning so close to the coffin she might fall in.’
Charlotte smiled. ‘For a nurse, you have a dark sense of humour.’
‘I’m off duty. It’s allowed.’
‘Florence Nightingale when you have your scrubs on?’
Kelly grinned. ‘Of course.’
A couple of group leaders got up to make a speech; then it was Charlotte’s turn.
While she had remained cheerful before, now the tears came unbidden.
She had thought a couple of tissues would be enough, but halfway through her speech Kelly had to pass her a handkerchief, and Charlotte paused for a moment to blow her nose.
‘There’s not a lot else I can say,’ she concluded.
‘All that’s left is to say thank you.’ She looked around at the coffin, about to make its way into the incinerator.
‘I have no memory of my parents, but I think that’s thanks to you, for the way you brought me up, in a world filled with joy and love.
You taught me to look forward, not to look back.
Even though you’re now gone, I’ll continue to do that.
’ As people began to clap, she leaned forward into the microphone again, suddenly remembering what time of year it was. ‘And … Merry Christmas!’
A couple of cheers popped out of the muted clapping. Charlotte stepped back from the microphone and smiled. The funeral director stepped up, thanking her, and a couple of minutes later, Grandma was on her way. Charlotte watched until the curtain closed, then wiped away a final tear.
‘Goodbye, dear, dear Grandma,’ she whispered, loud enough only for herself to hear.
At least half the guests were interested in attending the wake at Aunt Marjorie’s Tea Room, set for one p.m. Charlotte wanted to change out of her black dress into something a little more upbeat, so headed back home with Kelly in tow.
The teahouse was pet friendly, so after they had both got changed, Charlotte put Harry into the car and they headed back into Brentwell.
‘That was nice,’ Kelly said, as Charlotte drove. ‘I mean, for a funeral. Good to see so many people show up. I didn’t see any sketchy distant relations, looking to bag a bit of her cash, either.’
‘No, I didn’t either.’
‘You know, I’m worried about how you’re going to cope living on your own,’ Kelly said. ‘It’s always been the pair of you, hasn’t it?’
‘I still have Harry,’ Charlotte said, as the dog, in the back seat, responded with an enthusiastic bark.
‘And I’m back at work from tomorrow. It’ll be different, that’s for sure.
’ She sighed. In truth, she didn’t really want to think about it.
Grandma had given their house its soul. Without her …
she wasn’t sure if she would cope or not.
Her only real plan was to throw herself into her job and preparations for Christmas …
a Christmas she was now set to spend alone.
‘If you want, I can stop round for a glass of wine tomorrow night, see how you’re coping,’ Kelly said. ‘Ease you into living alone gently.’
‘Oh … tomorrow? I … can’t.’
‘I suppose you’ll be busy at work, after taking a week off.’
‘It’s not that … I have … a … have a … date.’
Kelly twisted in the car. ‘What? You didn’t tell me. Who?’
Harry barked again, as though also wishing to know more.
Charlotte’s cheeks filled with heat. ‘Ah … the … um … magician.’
‘James Steamblack? Are you serious?’
‘You know when I kind of literally disappeared yesterday … well, I … um, bumped into him. In this kind of basement place under the stage. And he asked me out.’
‘You didn’t say yes? Oh my God. I mean, he was a great performer, but he’s like some kind of vampire. I’m afraid for you, Charlotte. He’ll probably try to drink your blood or something. You said no, didn’t you?’
‘Ah, no, I kind of said yes.’
Kelly began to laugh. ‘Really? Oh, this is so awesome. I can’t wait to tell the guys at work.’
‘You wouldn’t!’
‘He’s like a celebrity. Wow. I can’t believe it. Talk about rebound. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. But it’ll help take your mind off things. Do you think he’ll want to saw you in half at his next show?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Where’s he taking you?’
‘I don’t know that either.’
‘He really is the master of mystery, isn’t he? Make sure you tell me all the details. Should I call late tomorrow night or wait until Wednesday morning?’
‘Definitely tomorrow night, and not late! I’m not that kind of girl, you know that.’
‘But he’s a magician. That’s like a rockstar for Saturday afternoon TV.’
‘Even so.’
‘Well, you know I’d be keen to seal the deal. You don’t need to make people work so hard. I mean, he must be loaded.’
‘That doesn’t matter. I just want to make sure that he’s nice before I make any kind of commitment. It’s just dinner anyway. At least I think it is. And plus, he’ll probably be back in Las Vegas or somewhere next month, so there’s no point in seeing it for more than it is.’
‘Well, if you disappear, at least I’ll know where to point the police.’
Charlotte grinned. ‘I can always count on you.’
The teahouse was just up ahead. Charlotte parked the car and climbed out, noticing with delight how light snow had begun to fall.
They hurried over, Charlotte carrying a selection of photographs and other mementoes of her grandmother’s life to put on display.
At the entrance, they were met by the tearoom owner, Marjorie.
She smiled and welcomed them in, but Charlotte immediately picked up on something in her face.
Her smile was hiding something; it was a look Charlotte saw in children all the time.
‘Is everything all right?’
‘Well … mostly. The food is all ready. I don’t have any milk for tea though. My nephew is supposed to be picking some up. He should be here any minute … I hope.’
‘Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine. If you like we can pop up the road and grab some.’
‘No, no, you’re the customer! My nephew will be here, I’m sure.’ Marjorie glanced out of the doorway. ‘Oh, look at that snow. I can’t ever remember it being this early. He only has a bicycle so that’s probably what’s delaying him. Come through, dear. I’ll show you where everything is set up.’
The room set aside for the wake at the back of the tearoom had been neatly and tastefully decorated.
A table at one end was laden with a finger food buffet, all covered with clingfilm, while another table, flanked by large, ornate candlesticks, had been set up for any items Charlotte had brought.
She quickly got to work setting up, while Kelly arranged some chairs for any of the guests who might want to sit down.
The first guests were early, filing in through the tearoom.
A couple of younger people, probably from one of Grandma’s clubs, headed straight for the buffet, but others were keen to take Charlotte’s hands and express their condolences, hold her gaze for a moment before heading off to the buffet, concerned perhaps that the food might soon be gone.
Through a window that looked out onto a pretty courtyard, Charlotte watched the snow fall more heavily.
It seemed appropriate that on the day of Grandma’s funeral the snow would come, bringing with it that warm, Christmassy feeling.
Out in the courtyard, a little tree stood adorned with Christmas lights, and Charlotte found herself smiling.
It would have made Grandma happy to see this.
Maybe she was up there now, looking down; maybe she had pulled a few heavenly strings and got the snow to fall.
A few people came bustling in late, muttering about the sudden snow. Out in the tearoom, Charlotte caught Marjorie leaning into her mobile phone, but shaking her head and slipping it back into a pocket. She glanced at her watch, up at a wall clock, then shook her head again.
A couple of guests had asked for tea, but really it was a lovely wake even without it, and there was juice, some non-alcoholic wine, and a large filter jug of black coffee.
One of Marjorie’s assistants had come in to top up the buffet, people were having a good time, reminiscing over their memories of Grandma.
‘I miss you,’ Charlotte muttered, peering out into the courtyard, then, spotting a door that led outside, making the decision to have a few minutes alone with the snow. She slipped out of the wake, went down a corridor and opened the door.
At the exact moment that the door swung wide, someone tried to open it on the other side.
Charlotte recognised Marjorie’s nephew as his eyes widened in horror.
Charlotte let out a gasp of surprise, and the young man a cry of shock, stumbling backwards in fright.
The shopping bag he was carrying slipped from his hand, landed hard on the stone doorstep and split open, its contents spilling out.
A plastic container of milk landed on its lid, which popped off, the contents spraying all over Charlotte’s velvet boots.
In front of her, the young man had slipped over, and now sat on his bottom in the snow, several other cartons of milk lying around him.
Charlotte looked down in dismay at the speckled white spots all over her favourite boots, just as she heard Kelly let out a cry of horror from the corridor behind her.
‘Oh my God. What an absolute clown.’