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CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
Monday January 6th was one of those raw winter days with a leaden sky and cold wind sharp enough to cut through the thickest coat. The funeral cars arrived just after ten. First the hearse with Chas already on board, his coffin festooned in flowers. Then two shining black limousines, each with a liveried chauffeur. Sally insisted she should be alone when following Chas to the crematorium. The second car would be for George, Millie, Henry and Owen. The rest of the Halcyon family and friends were making their way directly from their own homes and only later would come to the house for the wake.
Millie held tightly to George’s hand even though he had said he was all right. Behind them, in the final row of seats, Henry and Owen sat in silence, stiffly upright, almost shoulder to shoulder.
‘I think I should fall back when we get there,’ Henry said. ‘Perhaps it should just be Millie and George with Sally.’
Owen cast him a sideways glance. He thought he understood but couldn’t ignore that he was also being cut out of the closest family circle. He looked at the back of George’s head, wondering if he’d heard. George remained still and Millie seemed too engrossed in her concern for him to notice what was happening to anyone else. Owen felt truly alone with Henry.
‘I understand it’s your mother’s funeral on Thursday,’ Henry said.
‘Yes. Sally organised it for me. She’s been wonderful. I don’t know what I would have done without her.’
Henry nodded. ‘Yes, indeed. She is a very special woman.’
An awkward silence fell between them. Millie stroked George’s hand, who continued to stare at the limousine floor.
Henry glanced through the side window and cleared his throat. ‘Um, nearly there.’ He said unnecessarily. They all sat in a further minute of heavy silence, then as the car was steered into the grounds of the crematorium, Henry spoke again.
‘Owen, I need to tell you something before we go in.’
Stirred into consciousness, George looked up and Millie directed her attention to Owen.
Owen swivelled on his seat and looked directly into the eyes of the man who’d been dating George’s mother since New Year and was taking more and more of her time and her life. He still wasn’t sure if he liked the man.
Henry continued. ‘I should mention Sally has asked me to accompany her to your mother’s funeral. I hope you don’t mind. She said she didn’t think there would be many friends and family and I think she would like my company.’
Owen’s jaw dropped. How far into their lives was this man going to inveigle himself? He stared at him, a strange uneasy feeling worming its way through him as their equally dark blue eyes locked.
Henry said, ‘If it’s a problem, though. I won’t come.’
‘It’s not a problem.’ Owen replied sharply, and as the car eased to a halt, he opened the door and stepped out to open the door for Millie and George.
George shook himself down, returning order to his new Moss Bros suit. Henry went to Sally’s car and, edging aside an usher, he helped her out.
‘Are you okay?’ Millie asked, touching Owen’s arm.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘He’s got a cheek,’ George growled, casting a fierce eyed glare in Henry’s direction. ‘Who does he think he is muscling in on other people’s funerals?’
‘He probably doesn’t mean any harm,’ Sally said. ‘And your mum wants him here. She said so.’
‘Did she? When?’
‘I told you, George. Last night… when we were clearing up the supper things, she’d decided she should be on her own in the front car. She said it wouldn’t be proper for Henry to travel with her on the way here, but she needed him for after, so it was best he travelled with us, in the second car.’
George shrugged and muttered, ‘I still think he’s got a cheek.’
‘Hey,’ Owen touched his shoulder. ‘It really doesn’t matter. Your mum has got it all organised the way she wants, and that’s what’s important.’
‘But what about your mum’s funeral? He didn’t even know her.’
‘He didn’t know your father,’ Millie said.
‘He might have,’ Owen said before he could stop himself.
George laughed. Millie looked shocked.
