CHAPTER 54
The cars were there and it was finally time to face the day’s events. Mam looked old for once, the life that had kept her age from her eyes finally slipping away from her. Dad… I had stayed away from that thought for so long, but now it was a truth that hit me between the eyes… Dad sat with her, doing what he had to, doing what should never have been necessary.

We walked out of the house, my wife’s hand squeezing mine almost too tightly, but she was there, and without her I knew I would have been lost years ago. She reached out for Von’s hand, and just then I knew, as if never before, how much I loved the woman, for without her I would, very simply, not exist. Von looked across at my wife, eyes raw and red, and tried to find a smile somewhere in her reserves, but it never really arrived at her lips. Larinda reached across to her cheek, the tips of her fingers so gentle.

“For Bethy and Hays, yeah?”

Von gave a sharp nod, and a little twitch, and we walked out into the weak sunlight, a layer of high cloud taking the edge off the day. It was a slow ride, the hearse drawn by plumed dark horses, its darkness spreading over the streets as we made our way to Simon’s church, the flag so bright over… no. It was done, it was over. Strength, for those who lived. That was what was important.

Bethy and Hays rode with Mam and Raafie, Dad, while Von rode with me and Neil. I found myself losing it, slowly, without fear. Simon and his wife had been so good, Eric never absent, but this was real, this was here, this was my brother in a hole in the ground. They had done all they could, they had kept him here longer than anyone had hoped, but reality was harsh, and when it came out of its lair it bit hard, and it bit deep.

The end had been sudden, and the doctor direct and to the point, that bleakness living in his eyes.

“He has made his decision, Jill, and that is his right. We won’t force food into him. A drip, yes, keep him hydrated, but no more than that. I am sorry. We have done all we know, but, well, this is the way of it”

I wondered, just then, how many other relatives he had given that speech to, and felt yet again what a truly shitty job he had, and then I thanked him, for helping my brother to die. That afternoon I rang the office, and told them, quite simply, that I would not be at work for a while. They gave me no argument, and Von and I began a shift system, hot-bunking on a camp bed in his little room as the machines beeped and a little pump occasionally whirred into life to give him analgesia in a dose I suspected was a little above normal clinical guidelines. Eric or his wife were there to keep us fed, as was my own lover, and for once what was left of my brother saw no other visitors.

Three days before the end, there was a knock on the door, and a nurse put her head into the room. Von was asleep in the cot, and Ian was in some state of awareness that left his eyes open but his mind elsewhere.

“You have a visitor, ladies, but he wanted to ask first”

Von stirred, and I waved her back down. “I’ll go and see, pet”

Nye was waiting outside. To my astonishment, he stepped forward and hugged me. There was a shiver, and then a peck on my cheek. He coughed as he released me, clearing his throat.

“This is hard for me, aye? I don’t…do…people like you. We both know that. But that man in there, aye? He made my baby smile, an

... and I can’t have this between us, not now, not like this. Will you take an old bastard’s hand? Please?”

“Nye, I would do anything for Von, you know that”

He sighed. “You wouldn’t marry her, though. Suppose that was for the best, in the way of things. How is he?”

That broke me, and I simply said “Dying” as the tears came and he helped me to a chair in the corridor. There was a moment, then, when the grandfather and father slipped out of the shell, and he had tissues for some reason, and that was another enemy turned. When I was stable again, I left him with his daughter and son-in-law, and walked out of the hospital to the little parade of shops nearby, to look at magazines, newspapers, anything but the walls of that room and what lay on the bed.

Nye was gone when I returned, and my brother three days later. We stayed till the end, that line from the Ellison story playing itself on a loop in my mind: don’t leave me to die with strangers. He looked at me, right at the end, and there was a smile of sorts, and then the machines went silent, and the doctors left him alone just long enough to ensure they couldn’t bring him back, and a nurse unclipped everything so that we could grieve without hindrance.

The cars were lined up behind us as the hearse reached the gate to the church yard, the horses so patient in front. Simon was waiting, and as Bethy and Hays helped Mam from the first car, Ian was brought out. I had to fight an urge to giggle as the thought rose “They’ve done this before” at sight of the pallbearers’ precision, and realised that I was on the verge of a breakdown. For Mam, now, Jill. Neil just wept beside me, and Von looked lost until her father stepped forward, an arm round her shoulders. We followed my brother into Simon’s place, and I finally caught sight of how many had turned out for him. There were so many uniforms, not just from John and Stewie, but also from what were clearly some of his old army mates, as well as the British Legion, and a couple of French men.

John, in uniform? A hackle to his beret? Alec caught me looking, and came over.

“I know, Jill. We finally had a result, me and him, with some help from Simon’s mate Jerry. Stung them into an honourable discharge. Human rights, homophobia, all the usuals. He looks better in it than he does in the PCSO stuff, doesn’t he?”

There were police uniforms as well, the old building bursting at the seams, and even Steph was in her official rig. There was music, and readings, and hymns, and it was clear that Arwel and Annie’s family had sent a choir, but, really, all I could do was watch Mam as she slowly sank into herself, and then, all too soon, we were at the graveside, Simon sending Darren for some chairs before Mam and Dad Raafie could fully collapse. So many people there, but as the bugler did his thing all I could see was a hole in the ground that was taking my brother.

No, Jill. Mam. The girls. Simon looked round at the crowd once more.

“Thank you all, on behalf of the family, for your loving kindness here. You will see that I have found a special spot for our brother Ian, next to one who also suffered greatly, who also served her country faithfully. I cherish this space, for it takes the sun and holds it, and who can fail to find hope in the light and the warmth? Ian did not share my beliefs, in life eternal, in a loving Father, but that is of little import here today. Today, we remember a father, a husband, a son and a brother. I look around at the people here and I see that Ian left this a better world than he found it, and I can think of no higher praise. If you will, let us pray”

There was more of the traditional stuff, and then the rattle of soil onto the lid, and after a slow tune from Annie’s flute it was finally over. Mam just sat throughout, staring at the grave as the council workers waited to fill it in, and held tightly to her husband’s hand. In the end, she shook herself as if waking, and drew a long breath.

“That’s done, now. Take me to the hall, pet. Life has to go on, aye?”

Neil and I took an arm each, and Raafie took my free one, and we walked so slowly round to the church hall, where there was food, and hot drinks, and people playing music, so many of them I was lost. So many friends. So many reasons I had never seen to stay on this world, and as I looked at my mother I realised my excuses were just that. Life had me, held me tight, and it was all so different to the way it had been such a short time ago. In the midst of death, we are in life. I let my eyes wander around the room as Larinda went to get teas for us, and there was indeed so much life. That tall girl, the frog, with her big man. Shan cuddled up to Darren, who looked so adult in his suit. Big men with beards, soldiers swapping stories, James and Bethy locked together, Hays talking animatedly to some of the Welsh, and Von doing her best to smile for her sons. She looked up at me, and then her gaze slipped to the side, and her expression hardened. I turned to look, and she was there. Ellen.

Von started away from her boys, and Will reached for her arm, but she jerked it free. The rage was there, now, and she was soon face to face with my brother’s ex-wife.

“And what the hell do you want here?”

There was a ripple in the crowd as several people, mostly women, pushed forward. Rachel, of course, and Ginny, and Kirsty obviously wondering where she had left her baton. Ellen’s face squirmed.

“Come for what I’m owed, didn’t I?”

“And what might that be?”

“Half the house, for a start”

Von was now snarling. “I paid you your share from selling mine, bitch. Not that you ever earned any of it, aye? Lazy fucking cow that you are”

“Yeah, well, my girls, I’m owed!”

“Your girls? Shall we ask them? Hays, who you shut away rather than talk to? Bethy, who cuts herself cause you made her feel like a piece of worthless shit?”

What the hell? Von looked round at Bethy, and then me, and sighed.

“Sorry, shouldn’t have said that. Sorry, love. But…”

Ellen bristled. “Still my girls, yeah? Still me who carried them. You ain’t got that, you never will now”

Ginny was there now, one hand holding Von’s wrist with no effort visible in her face but cords standing out on her forearm.

“You fuck off now, OK, and I won’t hurt you”

Kirsty was there too. “That is something I won’t promise, yeah? You fuck off now or I WILL fucking hurt you!”

What the hell had she come for? To gloat, or just to extort? Either way, she was clearly starting to see her mistake, and then Von turned to the Amazon.

“Don’t need to hurt her, aye? Got better than that for the bitch. See that man over there, that Eric? His doctors, they’re good, very good, innit? They did a lot for my man, and he’s not yours, not now, and we got married, and, aye, married couples, they have honeymoons. About two months, now”

Ellen’s eyes went wide. “You can’t be!”

“Doctors say I am, aye? Not so fucking special now, are you?”

A bread roll struck Ellen in her face, and I looked round to see Bethy with more food and a couple of plates in her hands. She screamed at her mother.

“Want the hard stuff next? Want me to cut you? FUCK OFF!”

Kirsty stepped past Von, Dennis now behind her. She smiled, and there was no warmth there.

“On your feet or on your arse, love. Your choice; ends in five. Four. Three…”

With a last look round, eyes wide with just a hint of tears, Ellen was gone. Kirsty looked up at her husband.

“Go out and see she don’t do no fuckwit stuff with the cars or the church?”

“Aye, pet”

Ginny was still holding onto Von’s wrist, but her mien was now completely different.

“You up the duff? Really?”

Von was sagging now. “Aye. We managed that, at least. I know, I know, older woman, all the risks, innit? But what’s the worst, aye? Down’s? Look over there and tell me that’s a worry”

Hays, smiling, oblivious to the shouting and absorbed in music with some of the Welsh lot. I took her point, and then her hand.

“Who else knows, pet?”

She grinned, and it was almost her old self. “Probably everybody here, after that little episode, aye? Come on, let’s see if your Mam’s OK with it”

And she was, indeed, very OK with the news, and it took the edge off her sorrow. There were smiles, now, warm ones, and we settled down to remember what he had brought to our world rather than what the cancer had taken away. I lay that night with my wife, and realised that I had also found my place. After all, I didn’t hate the extra bit, it had just got in the way of who I really was, and the reason I was alive and able to think about such things was snoring gently beside me.

I owed her one less hurdle to overcome. The next morning, I took myself off the waiting list for the surgery. Life went on, and it was in the people around me. All I had ever needed to do was open my heart and my eyes.

Von named him Ian.