Maeve woke early on the day of the funeral. Ned lay beside her, curled up against her body like a sleeping possum. When he’d woken during the night and cried for their mother, she’d taken him into bed with her and he’d quickly settled back to sleep. She brushed his cheek with a kiss and slipped out of bed.
Out on the back verandah, the morning air was cool against her skin. A magpie sitting in the tall, stringy gum tree near the back fence sang to the rising sun. Maeve listened to the bird’s call resounding across the garden. The day was bright and clear. It seemed all wrong. She shut her eyes, wishing that the sky would cloud over, that the day would become black and grey to match her mood.
Bianca and Steph came by in the morning. Their parents had given them the day off school so they could be there for Maeve. Ned was having a tantrum when they arrived. They came into Ned’s bedroom to find the wriggling toddler pinned to Maeve’s lap as she tried to dress him in his new white suit.
‘Hey, monster,’ said Bianca, poking Ned in the tummy.
Ned bared his small teeth at her and growled.
‘Oooh, I am so scared,’ said Bianca, putting her hands to her cheeks and feigning horror. Ned giggled and then growled again.
Bianca and Steph took one foot each and strapped Ned’s new sandals on while Maeve buttoned up his jacket. Ned grew even more excited by the attention and started trying to press big, sloppy wet kisses on their hands.
‘You are turning into a demon toddler, that’s for sure,’ said Maeve as she carried Ned into the kitchen and settled him in his playpen with a pile of toys.
Nanny and Pa were busy setting out plates of food for the wake and all the girls were set to work unpacking the boxes of hired crockery stacked around the room.
‘Your mum’s funeral is going to be so awesome, Maeve,’ said Bianca, as she lined up cups and saucer. ‘I bet there’ll be a million people. She has so many friends. This will be the most amazing funeral ever.’
‘Have you been to any other funerals?’ asked Maeve.
Bianca blushed. ‘No, but I can’t imagine that . . . you know . . . an event or tribute or party or whatever will be better than this.’
‘It’s not a party,’ said Steph.
‘God, Steph. Undermine me, why don’t you. I’m trying to be positive. Trust me, Maeve, it’s going to be amazing, okay?’
‘Yeah, well, I hope so,’ said Maeve. ‘I’ve never been to a funeral before either, but things aren’t shaping up great, so far. Andy wanted Mum to be in her favourite red top but Por Por, my granny, she phoned last night and asked what Mum would be wearing and when he told her, Por Por started wailing down the phone and saying you can’t dress her in red or she’ll turn into a ghost. Andy looked like he wanted to faint.’
‘She was probably just really upset,’ said Steph.
‘I know that,’ said Maeve. ‘But I’ve got this feeling we’re doing everything wrong. Andy keeps asking me what Por Por is talking about and I feel really stupid, like Mum should have told me about all the Chinese traditions. But she never did. I mean, I know more French words than I do Chinese and I don’t know anything about what you’re meant to do at a funeral.’
‘It’ll be okay once they get here,’ said Bianca.
Maeve put her hands over her face. ‘I hope so. The thing is, they’ve never been here before. I mean, for the wake, that will be the first time they’ve really been inside this house. They never visit us here. We always have to meet them at a restaurant in the city or at their flat and Andy never comes along. What if I have to live with them? What am I going to do?’
Steph put her arms around Maeve. ‘Hey, you’re going to be okay. Just do one thing at a time.’
‘Yeah,’ said Bianca. ‘Good policy. I’ve been trying to get something happening with Josh and with Omar and I’ve decided one boy at a time is a much better idea.’
‘You can be such an airhead,’ said Steph, reaching out and drawing Bianca into a group hug.
Maeve was standing in the hall in her new white sundress, holding Ned on her hip, when her grandparents arrived. The minute the door was opened, Maeve knew something was wrong. Goong Goong winced when he saw his grandchildren. Por Por stared at Maeve and then quickly turned to Goong Goong and started speaking rapidly in Chinese. Andy was trying to greet them but it was as if he were invisible. Maeve set Ned down on the floor and he pelted towards the kitchen, calling for Nanny at the top of his voice.
The noise broke the spell that had fallen on everyone standing at the threshold. Por Por was dressed in a white silk skirt and jacket. She turned to Andy and took both his hands in hers and mumbled something about it being a difficult time for all of them. Goong Goong stood staring out into the street, his long face etched with disapproval. He was dressed in a silvery-grey suit that almost matched the colour of his hair. Even though Maeve never knew what to say to her grandfather, she had always admired his quiet dignity. But today, there was something icy in his expression, something that made her dread having to greet him. Unconsciously, she took a step back into the darkness of the hall, wishing she could run away like Ned.
Por Por stretched her arms out to Maeve. ‘Siu Siu,’ she called, her voice cracking with grief.
Maeve had been taller than her grandmother since she was eleven years old, but it still felt strange to have to bend over to hug her. Por Por stroked Maeve’s hair and held her close, just the way Sue used to, and Maeve felt a little catch in her throat. She hugged Por Por tighter and pressed her face against the smooth, silky jacket.
‘I’m sorry we couldn’t come sooner, sweetie,’ whispered Por Por. ‘We’re here for you now. We’ll always be here for you.’
Maeve fought back tears. She took a step towards her grandfather. ‘Goong Goong,’ she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
Goong Goong simply nodded. Maeve wasn’t sure if it was because he was upset that they were all still standing outside. She looked to Andy and gestured with her eyebrows, hoping he’d take the hint.
‘Oh, would you like to come in for a cuppa? We’re still getting organised but you’re very welcome,’ he said, awkwardly.
Por Por smiled but shook her head. ‘No, we won’t interrupt. We just wanted to see the children before the funeral. But I’m sure you’ve got much more to organise. Maeve, if you and Ned get dressed, we could take you to the church with us.’
‘I am dressed, Por Por,’ said Maeve.
Goong Goong frowned even more severely and Por Por pursed her lips. ‘But shouldn’t you be wearing black?’
Maeve glared at Andy. He had told her that she and Ned should both wear white because it was a Chinese tradition. Suddenly her new dress felt tight and uncomfortable. ‘But you’re in white, Por Por,’ said Maeve.
‘Isn’t white the Chinese colour for mourning?’ asked Andy.
‘For adults. Very disrespectful for children to wear white at the funeral of their mother,’ said Goong Goong, turning away and walking towards the gate.
Por Por reached out and grasped Maeve’s hands. ‘He’s very upset, sweetie. It’s too much, too sudden. We’ll wait in the car for you. Come out with Ned when you’re ready.’
‘But Por Por, I’ve got my friends with me. I’m going to the funeral with my friends.’
‘And Ned is coming with me,’ said Andy. When Por Por turned to answer him, he cut her off before she could speak. ‘He has to go in his car seat. He’s too little to ride in a regular seatbelt. It’s not safe. He’s coming with me.’
Maeve tried to ignore the angry undertone in Andy’s voice.
‘It’s okay, Por Por. We’ll all be together at the funeral.’ She squeezed Por Por’s hands to reassure her and fought down the tears that were still trying to work their way free.
Steph and Bianca flanked Maeve on either side like bodyguards as they walked into the church together. There were so many people that Maeve hardly knew, spilling out of the aisles of the church, crowding in at the doorway, and everyone was staring at her. She’d never been so glad of her friends.
A pair of Buddhist monks stood near a small Chinese altar, chanting prayers and lighting incense while the minister of the church greeted mourners at the door. A picture of Sue sat on the coffin amid wreaths of flowers. Shyly, Maeve approached it and placed the card that she had made beside Sue’s photo. Inside was a print of Ned’s small, chubby hand and Maeve’s long, slender one surrounded by a pattern of interwoven hearts. Briefly, her fingers touched the lid of the coffin. It was as if an electric shock charged through her and left her cold and trembling, to know that her mother was inside that box. It was a relief to sit down between Steph and Bianca and feel their warmth.
Por Por had arranged the Buddhist monks but Andy had picked the church. Maeve had never been inside it before. A song called ‘Forever Young’ was playing in the background as more and more people crowded into the church. She caught sight of some students from St Philomena’s standing with McCabe and Mrs Spinelli at the back and wished she was standing among them, that this was somebody else’s funeral, anybody but her mother’s.
Andy spoke, in a broken voice about how happy he and Sue had been together and the home they had made. Maeve felt all her energy tunnelling towards him, willing him to keep talking, praying that he wouldn’t break down and cry. If Andy fell apart, then she probably would too. The effort of simply keeping it together made her feel as if she couldn’t breathe, as if she was riding a wave of tears that at any moment would overwhelm her. Sensing she was unravelling, Steph and Bianca put their arms around her, holding her in a group hug that fused the three friends together. Even though they were crying too, even though their tears were warm against her shoulder, Maeve knew they would keep her from drowning in the dark ocean of her grief.