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Chapter Six

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Exactly two weeks after Nancy’s death, the funeral director’s number popped up on Marcus’ phone as it buzzed in his hand. With a heavy heart, he answered the call. ‘Hello?’

A sombre man’s voice emerged from the handset. ‘Mr Lennon, we have the result of the post-mortem now. Come this afternoon at two, sir, and we can discuss it face to face, which is always better than over the telephone.’

Marcus nodded to himself, deferring to the undertaker’s knowledge and experience. I would like to know now, but Hope and Nicola need to hear it at the same time.

***

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MARCUS AND HOPE SAT outside the undertakers in his car, waiting for Nicola to arrive. Hope stared vacantly at the wipers as they swished back and forth across the windscreen.

‘This is horrible, isn’t it, Marcus? I wish Mum were still here.’

‘Yes, it’s very weird. It’s like I’ve had to grow up all of a sudden,’ replied Marcus as he peered through the rain-streaked window at the arrival of another car. ‘Right, here’s Nicola. Time to go and find out what happened to Mum.’ He reached across and put a hand on Hope’s shoulder. ‘As long as we have each other, we’ll be alright.’

Marcus smiled, hoping it would offer his younger sister some much-needed reassurance, but he didn’t feel in the slightest bit confident in his ability to deal with what they were about to listen to.

Hope grabbed a brush out of her bag and dragged it through her mass of ginger hair. Throwing it into back into her bag, she sighed and said, ‘Let’s go and face the music.’

Marcus and Hope stepped out of the car and greeted Nicola, who had parked in the space beside them. Marcus smiled weakly and waved. ‘Hi, Nicola, thank you for coming.’

Their late mother’s best friend opened her arms, and Hope immediately ran over and buried her face into Nicola’s chest.

Nicola pushed Hope’s hair away from her eyes. ‘It’ll be alright. Come on, you only need to do this once. I think you’re both brave enough.’

Hope whispered, ‘Thank you,’ and the trio made their way towards the undertaker’s door, with bags and coats over their heads in an attempt to avoid the drizzle. Marcus led the way in and held the door open for the ladies. An overweight man smiled up at them from behind a desk, his round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

He stood and straightened his tie before pulling his waistcoat down over his bulbous belly. ‘Mr Lennon, Miss Lennon, Mrs Hayes, come on through to my office. It’s this way.’ 

After seating themselves in a private office, Marcus tried to smile and said, ‘Thank you for seeing us, Mr Regis.’

‘Not at all, young man.’ Mr Regis had the air of someone well used to dealing with grieving people and putting them at their ease. ‘I have the report here from the post-mortem.’ Mr Regis pushed a copy over to Marcus, who peered down at it as though it were a noxious substance in a laboratory.

Three pairs of eyes regarded Mr Regis with expectation, waiting for him to get on with explaining the cause of Nancy’s death.

Once more adjusting his glasses, Mr Regis focussed on Marcus. ‘As you know, your mother had pancreatic cancer. As is the nature of that cancer, it wasn’t detected until it was well advanced. However, the actual cause of death for your mum was sepsis. I’m very sorry for your loss.’

Marcus stared into space, seemingly trying to absorb the words of the undertaker. This is surreal. It seems like an eternity since mum passed away. Even though we now know what killed her, it changes nothing. She is still dead.

‘Mr Lennon?’ the undertaker said softly.

Marcus snapped out of his thoughts, feeling numb. ‘Thank you, Mr Regis. So when can we have the funeral?’

Hope blurted out, ‘Sir, is it possible for us to see Mum, please?’

With ease, Mr Regis smiled at Hope. ‘Of course, young lady, if your big brother says it’s alright.’ Turning to Marcus, Mr Regis gently placed the palms of his meaty hands on the desk. ‘We can arrange the funeral for Thursday next week. Does that suit you?’

Marcus sat with tears in his eyes. ‘Thursday it is. Thank you, Mr Regis.’

After adjusting his glasses on his nose again, Mr Regis stood and pushed his chair under the desk. The visiting trio took their cue and followed suit.

Mr Regis smiled sympathetically and shook each person’s hand. ‘My sincere condolences, Mr Lennon. I shall be in touch about the finer details this afternoon, if that’s okay?’

Marcus nodded. ‘Thanks, and yes, let’s see Mum before we go.’ He glanced at the undertaker and nodded, silently confirming his decision.

‘Come this way.’ Mr Regis strode over to a frosted glass panel door and gently pushed it open, his quiet movements belying his size.

Marcus, Hope and Nicola followed him inside and found themselves in a small room, which was painted and decorated in neutral colours apart from a few plants and a beautiful display of flowers on a table in the corner. In the middle of the room, an open coffin sat on a waist-high stand so that each of the visitors, even Hope, could see Nancy lying peacefully inside. The trio shuffled towards the coffin and looked down at Nancy, her shoulder-length hair fanned out across the white silk of the coffin’s interior.

‘I love you, Mummy.’ Hope’s little fingers curled over the wooden edge of the coffin as she strained to see inside. ‘You look beautiful, just like you always do...’ She sighed and blew a kiss to Nancy.

A silent tear fell down Marcus’ face. ‘I wish you were still here, Mum. I promise I’ll do you proud. I will love you forever.’ He put his arms out to Hope, who didn’t need a second invitation to cuddle in.

Nicola tried to smile, but she couldn’t manage it. ‘Rest in peace, Nancy. I love you too,’ she whispered. She placed a kiss on her fingertips and touched Nancy’s cheek. She then stepped back a little to allow Marcus and Hope some privacy during the last moments with their mum before the funeral.

The siblings stood by Nancy’s coffin for a few more minutes, each of them saying a silent goodbye to their mum.

‘Ready?’ Marcus asked, looking down at his sister and trying to peel her arms from around his waist.

‘Yes. Can we go home now?’ Hope’s previous anxiety and sorrow seemed to have been replaced with an odd sense of contentment.

‘Yes, let’s go.’ Marcus patted Hope on the shoulder before turning back to Nancy. ‘Goodnight, Mum. I love you.’

The pair turned for the door and found Nicola standing behind them. Marcus said, ‘Coming round to ours for a brew?’

A warm, happier smile lit up Nicola’s face. ‘Sure.’

After saying their goodbyes to the undertaker and making their way back to the car park, Nicola hugged both Marcus and Hope. ‘How do you feel now?’

Hope sighed. ‘Awful. I just can’t believe it that me and Marcus are orphans.’

Marcus thrust his hands into his jacket pockets, thankful that the drizzle had stopped. ‘Numb, Nicola, just numb. Will you help me organise the wake?’

As a fresh wave of tears welled in Nicola’s eyes, she sniffed to try and keep them back. ‘I’d be honoured. When we get back to your house, we can put the kettle on and get the ball rolling if you like?’

Marcus could only nod. Nicola put her hand on his shoulder and smiled with sadness. ‘Let’s get back to yours. The sooner we get there, the sooner we’ll be back in the warm.’

Less than ten minutes after leaving the undertakers, they’d made it back home and Marcus was making a brew for them all.

As Marcus and Nicola sat drinking, Hope stared blankly out of the window. ‘I really miss Mummy,’ she murmured.

Nicola looked into her cup as if looking for a miracle. ‘I know a woman who does a great buffet. Pat Poole’s Catering. I’ll sort that out if you like. Do you want me to tell her to set up here, or should I look for a venue?’

Marcus scratched his head before he looked at Hope and shrugged a little. ‘I think we should have it here.’

Hope half smiled. ‘I agree.’

Nicola looked at her watch and gasped. ‘I have to go back to work. I’m late. Call you later, yeah? Don’t worry, I’ll call Pat and sort the buffet.’