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They sat quietly in a dreadful vacuum, Shay in a whirl of denial and confusion that they could be here, that the woman in the bed between them was her mother and not her mother at the same time.
‘You definitely won’t need me for the next few days then?’ Paula reaffirmed. ‘Because I can be here if it’s necessary.’
‘I know you’re busy, Paula. I really don’t mind.’
An awkward trill of laughter, Paula rubbed the back of her neck. ‘Well, it’s not… really that… it’s just that it’s Chris’s birthday tomorrow and we were going up to the Lakes for two nights with friends. I’ve booked a log cabin and—’
Shay spared her the discomfort of further explanation.
‘You go. There’s no point in you cancelling it.’
Paula’s outward breath of relief. ‘Of course if I had to…’
‘You don’t. It’s fine. You go.’
Shay couldn’t think of anything worse than going on holiday the day after her mum’s death, unless it was going onholiday the day after her mum’s death with Chris Houston, but who was she to judge.
‘I was going to call up last weekend and see her,’ said Paula with a regretful sigh and a sniff. ‘I had a bit of a cold though and I didn’t want to pass it on. I wish I’d risked it. If only I’d known.’
Was that true? Who knew. But Shay couldn’t be bothered to question it. What good would it even do?
She stood. ‘I’ll leave you for a few minutes with Mum so you’ve got some privacy.’
‘No, I don’t want to be left alone,’ said Paula, standing quickly. ‘It’s not really Mum now, is it? Not any more. I’ll go. I’ve got a taxi waiting outside on the clock. I said I wouldn’t be that long; I just wanted to say goodbye and I’ve done that.’
It wasn’t worth Shay’s energy being surprised at Paula, it really wasn’t.
It was odd to have their family reunited back at the house, albeit just for a short while. Shay made some tea and many rounds of toast which sat on a dinner plate uneaten.
‘You been losing weight?’ Bruce asked his son.
‘I’ve just cut the crap out of my diet,’ Sunny answered. ‘I feel better for it.’
‘You don’t look better for it,’ said Courtney with her usual directness. She didn’t, however, mention the angry cold sore on the side of his lip, so she did have some sensitivity.
Sunny’s phone started vibrating in his pocket. He took it out.
‘It’s Karoline, I’d better let her know what’s happening.’ He walked into the hallway to take the call.
‘Anyone want a proper drink?’ Shay didn’t wait for ananswer but went into the lounge for the bottle of malt; she needed something to numb her from the inside out. She could hear Sunny in the snug talking into his mobile.
‘I’ll be home as soon as I can… I’m not leaving them… an hour maybe… For God’s sake, Karoline, my grandmother has just died.’
It didn’t sound right, but there was no room in Shay’s head for anything else to fret over. Not tonight.
Chapter 17
Shay called at her mother’s house just once before the funeral, to pick out something for Roberta to wear. Courtney offered to come with her but she said she’d do it alone. Her daughter, she knew, wouldn’t have been any use at all; she’d have cried as soon as she’d opened the wardrobe and seen all her grandmother’s colourful clothes lined up, her shoes denoting her age when she wore them from the vintage pin-heel stilettos to the low blocked heels of recent past. Roberta Corrigan was never one for flats; even her slippers were heeled.
How could you choose? But it mattered that she got it right. Courtney would have picked something cosy, slippers and her gran’s fleecy dressing gown, but Shay just felt that would have been the wrong choice. There was the red dress her mother had worn for Courtney’s twenty-first party; the blue trouser suit she said made her bum look nice; her psychedelic top with the batwing sleeves. There was the turquoise suit with flared trousers she’d only worn once, for Sunny’s engagement party. She’d teamed it up with a long string of pearls and a totally over-the-top fascinator. Brucehad asked her if she’d got mixed up and thought she was off to Ascot and they’d all laughed about that in the taxi. And hung up in a plastic suit-cover was the gorgeous violet outfit she’d bought for Sunny’s wedding. She’d been so excited about wearing it. Yes, this was what she would want; something elegant and smart, a statement colour. Roberta had always loved clothes, the braver the shade the better, so meeting her maker in violent violet seemed appropriate.
Paula wouldn’t have thought of that, she’d have lifted the first thing that came to hand, something mumsy probably because ‘what did it matter what she wore’. But it mattered a lot to a woman who had always taken pride in how she looked.
Shay had rung Paula to ask if she wanted anything specifically said in the eulogy.
‘Just that she was very clever and kind… I don’t know, you’re better at putting words together than I am.’ She’d asked then, ‘Are you sure you’re okay doing it all? It would upset me too much. You’d think someone would do it for us, wouldn’t you?’
‘What, like a death fairy?’ Shay couldn’t resist. Her sarcasm was lost on her sister though.
