“Remember your promise,” Jane whispered to Callum.
Her stomach knotted up even tighter but she kept moving. Her eyes were fixed determinedly on her legs as she threw each hip forward, her legs following suit.
“Can we sit near the back?” she mumbled.
“Absolutely. Good idea.”
As they got to the front steps of the church, she froze. The thought of walking inside made her blood run cold. “I need a minute.”
“It’s okay.” Callum squeezed her arm gently. “We’ll wait. Take your time.”
She took a shuddering breath. “I just need to get my head around this.”
“It’s fine,” he urged Maggie and Jane. “I’ll wait with her, you go ahead, save us a seat.”
Ally opened her mouth to protest, but Callum was quicker. “I’m not leaving you out here by yourself.”
A group of people walked past them into the church.
“Come on, let’s go find somewhere to sit down for a minute.” Callum nodded towards the garden laid out next to the church.
With mature trees and pretty flowerbeds, it was sprinkled with benches donated by parishioners in memory of loved ones. The perfect place to find some solitude and take a breather from the chaos.
As she let Callum usher her away from the steps, she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. It felt like everyone was watching her. The prodigal son had returned, along with the rumours about why he had left – with herself square in the middle of them.
Jack arrived at the church and sat in his car for several minutes, watching people arrive. They huddled together in small groups, before finally making their way inside. He spotted Father David at the church door, greeting folk as they entered, reminding him painfully of his mother’s funeral.
When he could finally bring himself to get out of the car, he headed straight for the church door before he could change his mind. He allowed Father David to usher him to the front pew, surrounded by faces that he both did and didn’t recognise. He kept his head down, trying to block out the whispers that seemed to follow him. He felt like a spotlight was shining on him.
A few of the more direct friends of his father came up to him and shook his hand, offering their condolences, their expressions caged. He smiled and thanked them woodenly. It felt like every pair of eyes in the church was on him. He felt more alone than he had ever felt in the past four years.
Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, the service began. He silently prayed for strength, in the same breath knowing he hadn’t any right to pray for anything. His hands were wet with perspiration as he wiped them hard against his thighs, trying to ignore the fact that his father’s coffin lay mere feet from where he sat.
An unfamiliar photo of his father stood on top of it. He had aged in the past four years, and not just chronologically. He looked weathered, beaten down. Old. It tore at his heart.
Did I do that? Did I make it so hard on him by not being here, that I wore him down until he couldn’t take it anymore? Did he die not of a heart attack, but of a broken heart?
He vaguely recalled hearing a hymn sung, then Father David stepped up to the pulpit to speak. He couldn’t hear a thing for the pounding in his ears.
A hand patted his shoulder lightly. It was time for him to step up and give his eulogy. He stared blankly up at Father David in front of him, and received a smile of encouragement as he beckoned towards him. Getting unsteadily to his feet, he made his way over to the pulpit, where the priest shook his hand firmly and stepped aside. His mouth was so dry he could barely swallow and he worried he wouldn’t be able to speak.
As he turned to face the body of the church, the sea of faces swam in front of him. He unconsciously searched the congregation for Ally, until self-preservation kicked in. If he saw her, he would never get through this. Tearing his attention away, he found himself staring again at his father’s coffin. The unfamiliar photograph gazed back at him.
Then he was barreling down the aisle with his head down, aware only of the knot in his chest drawing ever tighter, threatening to choke him. He burst through the double doors of the church and out into the sunshine, gulping in air like a diver resurfacing. Searching wildly, his need to escape took precedence over everything else. Locking onto the garden alongside the church, he stumbled towards the nearest bench and sank into it, frightened that at any moment his lungs might burst.
Ally sat on a bench next to Callum, wringing her hands in her lap. Her pulse raced. Callum laid his hand over hers to still them.
“Just try and breathe.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Maybe you should go inside – no point in both of us sitting out here.”
“I’m not going in without you. Either we both go in, or we both sit here. Either way is fine by me.”
“I want to go in – I do – but I don’t know if I can.”