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Friday, 19 July
It was a cold, overcast morning. Perfect weather for a funeral.
Louis had asked him to be one of the pall-bearers, and now, with the weight of the coffin on his right shoulder, he wished he’d said no. At least he had a front-row seat to the goings on and could watch both Louis and Natalie closely throughout the funeral. There were a total of ten people attending the funeral. The church was icy, with little body heat generated by the congregation; it was no surprise when he saw his own breath puffing out of his mouth every time he exhaled. If he hadn’t already heard it from other sources, he would have the impression, from the low turnout, that Marietta Gouws was not a well-loved woman. Louis had asked four of the men he worked with to be pall-bearers. Louis, Nico and the other four pall-bearers carried the coffin to the front of the Methodist church and put it down in front of the pulpit. Janet was sitting next to Natalie and holding her hand. He didn’t understand why Natalie needed to hold Janet’s hand. It wasn’t as though Natalie was broken up about Marietta Gouws’s death.
Louis and Natalie, both dry-eyed, only showed some emotion when they thought they were being watched. Nico took his seat next to Janet and watched Louis make his way to the pulpit to give the eulogy. It was a beautiful speech but didn’t entirely correspond with what he had learned about the woman they were about to bury. It was possible that Louis could merely have been doing what most people did when a parent passed away. He’d found that people, in general, seemed to develop amnesia about the things the parents had done to them as children. They seemed to remember only the good things they had done, and if there wasn’t any good to remember, they made some up. Or, of course, Louis could be an excellent actor. He was more inclined to believe the latter.
After Louis’s eulogy, the pastor gave a long sermon. Only the hard, uncomfortable church pew kept Nico from falling asleep. That and the fact that he needed to stay vigilant to keep an eye on Louis. Nico shuffled from one butt cheek to another, trying to prevent his arse from going numb and swallowed a few yawns. Janet even poked him in the ribs a few times to wake him up.
Natalie stared straight ahead and nibbled on her fingertips and nails. She seemed to be listening to every word the pastor had to say. Louis sat relaxed on the wooden pew. How he managed to look so comfortable was a mystery. His right arm rested on the back of the bench and his hand on Natalie’s shoulder, while his thumb stroked Natalie’s shoulder, which she ignored.
The pastor finished his sermon and invited everyone to join them at the graveside for the burial. Nico heard Louis’s four colleagues from work stand up behind him. Their footsteps echoed down the aisle and out of the church. The trolley to carry the coffin out of the church to the waiting hearse was wheeled in by funeral home attendants. He felt a tap on his shoulder. Louis was standing over him.
“It would mean a lot to us if you and Janet came with us to the graveside,” Louis said to him.
Nico glanced sideways at Janet to see her reaction. She hugged Natalie around her shoulders and nodded her head.
“Sure,” he said. “Not a problem.”
“Thanks. I really do appreciate you coming today. Your support means a lot to me.”
“I remember what it was like when my mother died. No one should have to go through this kind of thing alone.” When the words came out, he wanted to bite his tongue. Fucking hypocrite, he thought.
“Do you know how to get to the cemetery or do you want to follow us?”
“We’ll follow you,” Nico said. The drive there would give him time to think.
Nico’s battered old Datsun stuttered as he started up the engine and backfired. It was at times like this that he missed having his police-issue Almera. Janet curled up on the passenger seat, her legs tucked in under her bum, leaving him to his jumbled thoughts. The drive to the Pretoria East cemetery was long and silent. Images swirled around in his head. His mind was a messy collage, and the artist belonged in an insane asylum. He didn’t know what to think or feel.
The tombstones looked forlorn under their blanket of weeds. Only a handful had flowers on them. People didn't come to cemeteries anymore. They weren't safe. A nun had been raped in the Irene cemetery a few months before. The rapist was still at large. Most people were now having family members cremated. It was safer. He couldn’t help but wonder how many of these graves were ever visited by so-called loved ones. Then again, he was also guilty: he hadn’t been to see his mother’s grave in about five years. It was time he made an effort and paid her a visit, even if it was just to talk to a tombstone. And heaven help anyone who tried to mug him while he chatted to his long-dead mother. They walked deep into the cemetery, there were a few times when Nico thought they were lost.
Marietta Gouws’s coffin was being lowered into her newly-dug grave as they arrived. The coffin descended slowly and made a thud as it hit the bottom of the grave. The gravediggers started shovelling earth onto the coffin. It hit the wood with a thud, scratching it. Some of the sand slid off the soft round edges and slipped to the side. Nico looked up from the partially-covered coffin and found Louis staring at Janet. The look in Louis’s eyes set off those bells, and this time he couldn’t silence them. He looked at her the way a hungry predator stared at its prey. Cold fear rippled down his spine and sent a cold, nasty, tingly sensation through every nerve ending, making his fingers itch to reach across the grave a throttle the last breath out of Louis.