He lays her hand down in her lap and she offers him the other. He feels the tremor in it, the warmth of the blood in her body.
Asperges me hyssopo, et mundabor: lavabis me, et super nivem dealbabor.
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Auditui meo dabis gaudium et laetitiam: et exsultabunt ossa humiliata.
Let me hear of joy and gladness: that the bones which You have broken may rejoice.
Averte faciem tuam a peccatis meis: et omnes i niquitates meas dele.
Turn Your face from my sins: and blot out all my misdeeds.
Second coat. He has so much he wants to say, but right now, her warm, soft hand is in his, and he is making her beautiful for her wedding and they are listening to Allegri’s ‘Miserere’.
Cor mundum crea in me, Deus: et spiritum rectum innova in visceribus meis.
Create a clean heart, O God: and renew a right spirit within me.
Ne proiicias me a facie tua: et spiritum sanctum tuum ne auferas a me.
Do not cast me away from Your presence: and do not take Your holy spirit from me.
Redde mihi laetitiam salutaris tui: et spiritu principali confirma me.
O give me the comfort of Your help again: and ’stablish me with Your free spirit.
Once it’s over, he looks up to meet her eyes, which are fixed on him.
‘I’m so sorry for how I treated you, Mum.’ He’s worried he might cry.
She smiles gently and puts her hand on his. ‘I tore you in two with the way I treated Robert and Howard.’ She withdraws her hand and sits back. ‘You know, there’s a madness that comes with grief. For a good few years after your father died, I had a layer of skin missing.’ She rubs a hand slowly the length of her arm. ‘I was raw. The sight of your uncle was like having salt rubbed onto that rawness.’ She scrunches her face. ‘I was so jealous they still had each other. I’ve apologised to them, but I’m glad I can apologise to you now. I hated how close you were to them, when really that was a wonderful thing.’
‘I’m glad you’re getting married. Dad would be too, I’m sure of it.’
‘Thank you, William. I’ll never forget him.’
‘I know.’ They sit in easy silence for a few moments. ‘I didn’t think you’d actually go to Swansea without me.’ He didn’t plan to say this, and worries he sounds churlish.
She nods. ‘I didn’t think you wouldn’t come! For the first six months I changed the bed in the spare room every week, so it would be fresh if you turned up.’ She shakes her head. ‘What a terrible mess we can make of our lives. There should be angel police to stop us at these dangerous moments, but there don’t seem to be. So all we’re left with, my precious son, is whether we can forgive, be forgiven, and keep trying our best.’
‘We’d best go for it then, hadn’t we?’
‘Let’s.’ Breathing in sharply, she splays her hands and surveys her nails, the exact colour of the rose pinned to her dress. ‘Nice job, William. Who’d have thought it?’ She lays them neatly on her lap. ‘You know, I only pretended to drop out of your life, I’ve kept a very close track on you. I know more than you think.’
‘What do you know?’
‘You muddled along at sixth form, excelled at your embalming training. You did a brave and difficult job at Aberfan and you’re left with the scars of it. You married a wonderful woman, insisting you’d never be a father, and you walked out on her because you thought she’d be better off without you.’
‘I know you meant well spending time with Gloria …’
The door whooshes open and there’s Norma, transformed in a sky-blue silk dress, full make-up and hair in a chignon. ‘Five minutes, Evelyn.’
‘Well, look at you!’ Evelyn raises her eyebrows and smiles at her friend.
Norma makes a quick curtsy, then her face creases in distress. ‘Dear Lord, all I want is for you to have time on your own, but the car’s about to pull up!’ She looks at William. ‘You’ll come with us, won’t you? In the car, I mean?’
‘I’d be honoured – and late if I didn’t; I’m on foot.’
Evelyn stands. ‘Right then, Norma!’ The business is back in her voice as she waves her fingers in the air to dry them. ‘Where’s that daft little purse you insist I have to use as a handbag?’
‘Here.’ Norma steps into the hall and comes back to slide a small silky bag on a chain over Evelyn’s hand.
‘Well, how about this for a wedding present, eh Norma?’
‘Thank heavens for waterproof mascara,’ says Norma, grinning.
‘And quick-drying nail varnish,’ Evelyn adds.
There’s a gentle tap at the door.
‘It’s the driver,’ Norma says. ‘Nice job on the nails, William!’ She darts out to the vintage cream Rolls-Royce and stoops at the window to talk to the driver. ‘You two sit in the back,’ she calls, straightening up and running round to the other side to get into the front passenger seat.
Once they pull away, Norma starts chatting loudly to the driver.
‘So,’ Evelyn says, as the car descends the lane’s steep incline, ‘you do know this wonderful wife of yours is going to be there?’ Now they’re minutes from the church, William feels a thrill at the thought, but tries to ignore it. ‘I know what you’re trying to do, but you owe her one more conversation.’ Evelyn suddenly looks out of the window and William sees they’ve arrived. ‘I have to say, William, much as I love you, your timing could have been better. We’re there already!’
‘Well’ – Norma twists round to face them – ‘one way of having a bit more time to yourselves would be if William walked you down the aisle.’ She looks, triumphant, at Evelyn, then William. ‘What do you say to that, then?’
He can see the leap of joy in her face as Evelyn turns to him.
63
The church porch smells of dusty paper and cold stone. Norma has taken her seat at the front after making sure there’s a space for William.
‘What music are we walking in to?’
‘Vivaldi. Four Seasons.’
‘Nice, which one?’
‘Winter, violin concerto in F minor.’
‘Classy!’
‘What would you expect?’
‘Mum?’ He looks straight ahead.
‘Yes, son.’