‘He wasn’t having an affair with that woman,’ I say. It seems important.
‘I know,’ he says.
‘He knew,’ I say. ‘About us and was so upset …’ the lump in my throat stops me. I mustn’t cry. There’d be plenty of tears later. I couldn’t bear another headache. I want to give Henry a good funeral. I’d chosen a wicker coffin. Henry would have hated having too much money spent on a box.
‘Nothing happened, you told him that?’
I nod.
I’d been desperate for attention that was all. I’d needed to be needed.
‘We were going to start again, try for a baby,’ I say, and the emotion catches in my throat. So much love to give. Now what do I do with it?
‘The funeral is two thirty if you wanted to come,’ I say, pulling myself together.
It was only going to be a small affair. Henry never liked crowds. Henry would have preferred it that way. Besides, who was there to ask? I wanted to fill a few rows at least. If only we’d made more friends. How stupid, I chide myself. Henry wouldn’t care how many people were at his funeral.
‘I’ll come,’ says Jim gratefully.
He hesitates and then says.
‘Maybe we could meet for coffee sometimes, just as friends of course.’
‘Yes, maybe,’ I say.
Oh, Henry, why did you leave me? Why did you leave me when we had finally heard each other?
‘The sun is going to come out later,’ says Jim.
I smile. Henry’s father always said the sun shone on the righteous. Henry was indeed very righteous.
