The room was packed with people, yet the volume was a low murmur, with the occasional sob, the occasional laugh, coming from different groups. Shauna was speaking to a gathering of elderly ladies, attempting to smile, but even from here I could see that her eyes were dead.
Dan wandered over and stood next to me. ‘How is she doing?’
‘I don’t know,’ I answered honestly. ‘It’s like she’s going through the motions, saying the right things, doing what’s expected, but it’s almost…’ I searched for the word, ‘… robotic. It’s like she’s still in shock.’
Dan shook his head mournfully. ‘She probably is. To have to do what she did and then for it to be…’
He didn’t finish. Didn’t have to. Shauna had fought to keep Annie alive and the post-mortem had shown that it was all pointless. A massive stroke. Death was instant. Nothing Shauna could have done would have saved her. Knowing that didn’t stop her from blaming herself though.
‘I don’t know how to help her. To be honest, I’m not much good at this kind of stuff. Nothing I want to say sounds right.’
Dan shook his head. ‘Then I hope you’re a quick learner, because I think she’s going to struggle. She told Lulu she can’t contemplate a world without Annie. She’s heartbroken.’
I sighed. ‘She was all the family Shauna had. You can’t count those two.’ I nodded over to the other side of the room, where Shauna’s mother was talking to Lulu, while her dad was in deep conversation with Rosie. It was good of the girls to step in and support her. They always did. Took the heat off me.
I’d tried, but the truth was that some people knew what to do in situations like this and some didn’t. Seemed like whatever I did it was wrong. If I tried to cheer her up, she snapped at me. If I gave her space, she simply stopped speaking to me.
I just didn’t know what to do. And if one more person told me it would get better in time, I may well resort to violence.
I saw her excuse herself from the group and quietly move away, heading through a heavy oak door to the foyer of the golf club. The venue had been Shauna’s dad’s choice, and he’d chosen to come here, despite Shauna’s objections that Annie hated this place. ‘Full of jumped-up tossers with an overinflated opinion of themselves. A bit like you, son,’ she’d say to Jeff. She’d add a wink on to the end to soften the blow, but everyone knew she meant it. In all the time I’d known Annie, she’d never backed down, never shirked the truth or turned her back on anyone who needed help. Shauna was a lot like her.
‘Back in a minute,’ I told Dan, then headed out after Shauna. Through the door, I looked left to the reception area and right to the corridor that led to another bar. Shauna was nowhere to be seen. I opted for left. I crossed the foyer, and headed to the entrance, two heavy, mahogany antique doors befitting a grand old building like this. I pushed one open, stepped out, the green grass of the practice area directly in front of me. I’d been here before, setting off on my annual round of golf with my wife’s father. The irony was that for a shit parent, he was great company. Full of the chat and hilarious anecdotes. Full of the charm if there were ladies present. I couldn’t work the guy out at all. Funny guy, crap father, Shauna always said, and she was absolutely right.
There was no sign of her and was about to go back inside when I spotted the long bench off to the left, where the golfers stopped to make their final preparations before going on to the first tee. There were two people on it, their backs to me, facing off into the distance. I didn’t need to see their faces to know who it was.
Shauna. Vincent.
Fair play to the guy, he’d been great. He’d told me what happened that night and I was so grateful that he was with Shauna, that she hadn’t gone through that on her own. Since then, he’d called, dropped by, been there for her, and yes, I was well aware that some of those tasks should have been mine, but Vince seemed to do it so much better.
Like now. I could see Shauna’s shoulders move, shudder, and I guessed she was sobbing. Vincent put his arm around her and her head fell on his shoulder. That was it. No talking, no drama, just a quiet moment of solace.
I considered going over, but what would that achieve? Vincent was doing a great job of comforting her. Like I said, he did it so much better than me.
If nothing else, I knew my limitations, knew when I didn’t have what someone needed. Coping with the death of a loved one rated pretty high on that scale. I didn’t do death. I couldn’t. A searing memory made an attempt to surface, and I pushed it back down. I wouldn’t go there, wouldn’t be one of those people who constantly relived the past, killing themselves with a million small cuts. No. Not today. Not ever.
So I backed up, slipped through the door and headed back inside, thankful to Vincent for taking my place.