With a voice strengthened now by duty, Lionel began the final goodbye.
‘We entrust our beloved Lilian Mathilda Dearman to your mercy, in the name of Jesus our Lord, who died and is alive and reigns with you, now and for ever, Amen.’
‘Amen,’ echoed the crowd.
‘Ladies and gentlemen of Wychwell only, if you would please make your way now up to the manor house for private refreshment and the other business in hand,’ Lionel then announced.
‘What’s the other business in hand?’ Marnie asked, as the crowd began to disperse.
‘The reading of the will. It’s Dearman tradition that it immediately follows the funeral. That was one thing at least that Lilian hasn’t kicked against,’ replied Emelie, opening up her handbag and taking something out.
‘Well, I’ll walk you up if you like and then disappear.’
‘You will not,’ said Emelie firmly. ‘You are now part of Wychwell, Marnie. And Lilian thought more of you than she did of those racing off to see how much richer they will soon be. I’ll catch you up. I just want a few moments to say my own goodbye to Lilian. Wait for me by the gate, would you? I won’t be long.’
‘Of course.’ She noticed then that Emelie had a handful of small white flowers. Edelweiss. She knew what they were because she’d been in the school production of The Sound of Music. She’d been a grumpy nun. Gabrielle had been Julie Andrews. Her overriding memory of the play was the audience trying not to giggle at her rendition of ‘The Lonely Goatherd’. She heard that one of her parents had likened it to the sound of someone being goosed by a giant amorous porcupine.
Standing by the gate, Marnie watched Emelie drop the flowers gently onto the coffin, all the while talking as if Lilian were lying there able to hear her. Then Emelie crossed herself slowly, blew a kiss into the grave, then turned and walked towards her.
Chapter 21
Up at the manor house, there was a buffet on the dining table that would have defeated Henry VIII, and trays full of champagne, or sparkling wine – Marnie’s palate wasn’t discerning enough to tell. She walked in, glad that Emelie was holding her arm because she might have chickened out otherwise, especially as she heard Kay say to Una, ‘What’s she doing here?’
‘Ignore her, Marnie,’ said Emelie. ‘Lilian was never fond of the Sweetmans. She called them the Sourmans.’ She let loose a childish giggle and it made Marnie chuckle too.
Lionel was heading towards them with two flutes of fizz which he handed to them.
‘You did very well, Lionel,’ said Emelie. ‘It can’t have been easy for you.’
‘It was the hardest service I’ve ever led,’ replied Lionel. He looked tired, thought Marnie. The whites of his eyes were pink, the usually conker-shiny irises a dull mud colour today.
‘It’s the end of an era,’ said Roger the postmaster, joining them. ‘Wonderful service, Lionel. Wonderful. Lilian would have been sad she missed it.’
‘She didn’t,’ said Emelie. ‘She was there. We could all feel her.’
‘I haven’t seen you for a while, Emelie. Someone said they’d seen you posting a parcel in Skipperstone. I hope you aren’t being unfaithful to me,’ said Roger with a grin.
‘Who would say such a thing?’ said Emelie, suddenly serious. ‘Village people can be such gossips.’
When Roger moved away, Emelie confided in Marnie. ‘I did post a parcel in Skipperstone. I didn’t want him asking who I was sending things to in London. He can be very nosey.’
A sudden burst of Titus’s laughter filled the room, interrupting everyone’s conversation.
‘All hail the new lord of the manor,’ Marnie overheard David say behind her. ‘Someone’s happy at least. He’ll have moved in here by twilight. You mark my words.’
It was obvious to everyone that Titus was counting down the minutes to accepting his title.
Marnie caught sight of Herv at the other side of the room. He looked like a Norse god who had decided to take a job in a bank. He was standing with Ruby who was nibbling delicately on a sandwich enjoying the temporary illusion of being in a couple with him, though it appeared as if he wished he were elsewhere. She watched him scan the room, felt his eyes lock with hers. He waved, he smiled then he made, Marnie presumed, his apologies to Ruby and headed across the room to her. Ruby’s expression turned murderous and Marnie thought, why is it that at every stage of my life I have made so many enemies? Herv was two steps away from her when Titus cut straight in front of him.
‘Herv,’ he bellowed so most of the room could hear him. ‘I hope you’re going to be staying around, at least. I need a good gardener.’
It was as if a bucket of water had been tipped over Marnie’s head. She hadn’t considered the full extent of what Lilian’s death would mean. There would be changes, lots of them. She wouldn’t be able to stay in Little Raspberries rent-free for a start. And Lilian herself had said that Titus didn’t want strangers in the village. There had been no written rental agreement; he could throw her out tonight if he chose to, unless she decided to sit tight as a squatter.
Marnie slid from the room and into the conservatory where she stood by the window and gazed out at the tranquil lake. She heard again Lilian’s account of the day when her father fell into the water trying to scare away a heron and her mother pressed his head under the water with an oar hoping to drown him. There were so many more stories of Lilian’s to tell, Marnie hadn’t known her long enough at all. And now, all the ones that weren’t in her memory or Lionel’s book were gone for ever. She was gripped by a sudden sense of it all being so unfair. She had loved and been loved by only two people in her whole life, two old ladies full of fun and joy and kindness. And she had lost them both.
‘Marnie, how are you doing?’
She felt Herv’s hand on her shoulder, large and warm before he lifted it away abruptly, as if fearing she would shrug it off. She wouldn’t have.
‘Well . . .’ she smiled sadly.
‘Of course, stupid question.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’ve been thinking about you but I didn’t know . . . if I should . . . leave you alone.’
She really had scared him off that night of the Pink Lady sighting. She’d felt rotten about that since it happened and had the overwhelming urge to tell him that it wasn’t the idea of going to the cinema with him that had set her off running like Usain Bolt with a firework up his backside, but anyone. A nice man like him would be better staying away from such a fuck-up as herself. But here was neither the time nor the place.
‘Thank you, that’s very sweet of you but I’m a big girl . . .’
A very big girl now. Her mother’s voice came from nowhere. She ignored it and carried on.
‘. . . Anyway, how are you, Herv?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied. There was no sparkle in his blue, blue eyes today. ‘I feel numb, I think. As if something very significant has gone from my life.’
His shoulders were slumped, weighted with sadness. She felt the need to reach out to him, comfort him, do something to convey that they were together in this, but she overcame it.
‘I don’t want to work for Titus,’ Herv went on. ‘I think I shall . . . probably leave soon.’