Friday 31st July.
Quite a number of sombre people had gathered at Tony’s house by the time I reached it at around 5:30pm.
I saw several women scurrying around tending to Tony, Catherine and some older relatives while the men congregated at one end of the lounge drinking and chatting noisily.
In the five years since I met Tracey I had been introduced to the various members of her kinfolk and received a few nods of greeting from everyone, although, I couldn’t recall their names.
I entered the lounge to hug Catherine and Tony who were still deep in shock.
One woman I did recognise was Tracey’s Aunt Maisie, Tony’s sister, who often came to visit with her brood of the most obnoxious, misbehaved, brats I had ever had the misfortune to meet.
I found her in the kitchen fussing over an assortment of sandwiches and biscuits while chatting with two other women.
All went silent as I entered the room asking, “Is the kettle on?”
“Sure,” she answered. “Would you like something a little stronger?” Maisie produced the half bottle of whisky I had come to associate with her.
Ever since I had known her Aunt Maisie always seemed to have whisky about her person offering a drink to anyone who crossed her path dismissing it with “My kids would drive anyone to drink.”
I declined her offer as I had on several previous occasions with “No thank-you.”
“Would you like something to eat?” Maisie asked while fussing over my cup of tea.
“There are rolls, sandwiches, biscuits and cakes,” she pointed out plates piled high with assorted snacks but I declined again telling her that I had just eaten.
As she prepared my tea I caught sight of flickering candlelight through a hatchway between the kitchen and dining room and figured that was where Tracey was.
With cup in hand I thanked Maisie and made my way through the lounge to the dining room door causing the four candles at each corner of the light oak coffin in the centre of the room to flicker and cast macabre shadows onto the walls.
Sipping my tea I crept slowly to look into the casket at the girl who had been my existence for the past five years.
This girl had brought so much joy, happiness and sunshine into my dull grey life and I wondered how I would manage to continue living without her love. She was all I ever wanted and needed in my life, whereas I cruelly thought that all she had wanted from me was a child to make her parents happy.
Tracey’s body, from her waist downwards, was covered in the multicoloured sprigs and garlands plucked by Tony from his garden where we had seen him tending to them lovingly for many hours.
Her hands rested upon her chest, which was concealed in a white silk shroud with a set of rosary beads laced through her fingers.
She looked so serene as she lay there but there was something about her face that horrified me - she had the same expressionless look on her face that Aleesha had in the morgue.
In the past few months when Tracey stayed with me I would often wake up before her and lie looking at her as she slept. Because she had high cheekbones she always looked like she had a permanent grinning expression. What distressed me most about her corpse was her grin was gone.
Somehow, if she appeared to be in a contented sleep I felt I would feel better as an insane resolve came to me.
I placed my hand over her mouth, which felt as cold as stone, I prodded her icy cheeks with my shaking fingers lifting her cheeks to make her smile, but when I removed my hand they fell to their former frown.
Laying down my teacup and opening the hatch through to the kitchen I called to Maisie.
“Could you pass me four sugar lumps, please?”
“Did I not put sugar in your tea, love?” Maisie asked fetching a bowl of granulated sugar apologising profusely in her confusion.
“No Maisie,” I refused the sugar, “They’re not for me. Could you pass me four sugar lumps? Please?”
Reluctantly she located a box of sugar lumps in a cupboard and complied hesitantly before I closed the hatch.
Returning to Tracey I managed to part her icy lips and using shaky fingers I forced the lumps into her cold dry mouth prodding them high into her cheeks.
When I removed my hands from her I smiled at the result - Tracey looked like she was sleeping now and somehow the feeling of her sleeping peacefully consoled me until I heard the door open behind me and Doreen slowly entered to stand by my side.
Doreen sniffed as she dabbed her nose and eyes with a handkerchief.
“She looks so peaceful” she sniffed slipping her hand into mine.
“Yes, she does now,” I agreed silently pleased with my actions.
We stared at Tracey in silent reflection for a few minutes until Father Brennan arrived and announced, he would be saying the rosary prior to taking Tracey to church.
As the relatives assembled around the coffin those who had seen Tracey before I arrived knew something was different about her and looked at me suspiciously throughout the rosary and the short walk behind the hearse to the church.
Apart from when I helped carry Tracey from the house to the hearse and entering the church my hand never left Doreen’s as we silently comforted each other.
After the half-hour service Father Brennan confirmed that a full requiem mass would be held at 10 o’clock Saturday and we exited the church as a slight rain began to fall.
“What are you going to do now?” Dad asked after I had kissed Catherine, Tony, Doreen and Mum.
“I have no idea, Dad, I really don’t know.”
“Okay,” Dad sighed throwing his car keys to Mum; “I’ll walk you back to your car.”
“Please yourself.” I sighed.
We walked side by side in silence for a few minutes before Dad asked. “How are you feeling son?”
“I’m so mixed up,” I answered, “I have no idea how I feel.
I have just successfully annoyed every one of Tracey’s relatives but I really don’t care what they think of me.
All Tracey ever wanted from me was a child to make her parents happy, but it was the child that killed her.
I feel that by making her pregnant I somehow murdered her.”
“On the other hand, if she’d phoned me or waited until Friday night to tell me she would still be alive. So I feel by her getting onto the motorway last Wednesday she committed suicide and if I hadn’t moved to Edinburgh in the first place she would not have become pregnant. If she hadn’t become pregnant she would have been very unhappy.”
“It was unfortunate that there was an accident on the way.
Maybe it was fate - I don’t know.
I just want this whole thing over and done with as quickly as possible.
Is it unusual for me to feel this way Dad?”
“All depends son,” he answered, “you’re probably still in shock from the news.
You’ll get by with a little help from your family and friends.”
Dad put his arm around my shoulder as we reached my car and I prepared to open the doors.
“Dad,” I continued, “Tony asked me if I would organise poll-bearers for tomorrow - do you think I should get it sorted out just now?”
Looking around at the people coming and going from Tony’s house he answered.
“There will be plenty of time to sort it out tomorrow morning.”
We resumed our silence for a minute or two while I drove the ten-minute journey home - before Dad, once again, broke the tension by asking, “What are you thinking about son?”
“My friends,” I answered, “They’re all extremely nice girls, but while Tracey was on the scene I could keep a safe distance between myself and them.”
“Last Wednesday night every one of them came to me saying that they would do anything to help comfort me.”
“Anything?” Dad asked surprised.
“Absolutely anything.” I assured him.
“In the few months I’ve known them I’ve grown very fond of all of them.
As I tu
rned down their offers I wondered how long I could keep rejecting them as I don’t want to hurt any of them.”
“Play it by ear, son.” Dad advised as we pulled up outside his house, “Just play it by ear.”
I phoned Marcie with the details of the funeral mass and accepting Louise’s offer of my old room for tonight I went to bed early for much-needed sleep.
“It had been a long fortnight with many highs and lows.” I sighed to Emily with tears coming, again, to my eyes.
“It started so well with wedding plans proceeding to schedule.
‘Diamonds’ had recorded ‘Baby - You’re an Angel’ and were excitedly awaiting its release next Monday.
Marcie had, after eighteen years, found the baby she had ‘lost’ living under the same roof and was very happy now.
Everybody was so happy – even Tracey, so happy she got onto the motorway.
I should have known, Emily, whenever I have any highs in my life the lows surely must follow.”
The only good thing was I had managed to get the lustful thoughts of Rachel out of my system and now regarded her with loving affection and overwhelming respect.
Emily leaned forward and pecked me on the cheek to show she understood and cared, but said nothing.