The weather gods turned on a beautiful early spring day for Agnes Turner’s funeral at the family farm, which was aided by the two p.m. timeslot – being a perfect time after the sun had burnt off the overnight chill and before the cool of evening rolled in. Also warming Erica, but this time from the inside out, was her bursting love for and pride in Bruce, who was seated beside David on the wooden bench beneath Agnes’s favourite tree, where her ashes would be scattered later. The dog had leapt up and straight away laid down beside David, with her head on his lap, just as back in the office a few days prior, and then sat up and to attention during the eulogy read by his two daughters and four teenage grandchildren, who were dressed in matching riding attire ready to perform the team riding demonstration, choreographed to music, which they’d been working on with Agnes. Erica had been excited, as had David sounded, when he’d called the day before to tell her the kids were okay to go ahead. Their matching grey ponies stood nearby, tacked up ready, held by a couple of friends.
Erica had been introduced to everyone earlier but she’d promptly forgotten the friends’ names in her determination to not get any of the identities of David’s nearest and dearest wrong – his daughters, Carol and Tina; and teenage grandchildren, Joel, Alice, Toby and Evie. Well, she hoped she had the grandkids right – they were all so alike dressed in matching cream jodhpurs, short brown boots, Bermuda blue jackets and sunglasses.
As the ponies moved past, she tensed in readiness to leap the few metres and attempt to stop Bruce if she decided to disgrace herself and chase after them – not that she thought she’d ever be quick enough to catch the dog if really put to the test. Thankfully Bruce remained perfectly still, clearly as enthralled as everyone else there, possibly encouraged by David’s arm around her, and Erica relaxed. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw Walter and Jennifer ease in their stance too, stood behind the rows of chairs set out for the seventy or so mourners.
The music took Erica by surprise – all she’d been told was that the kids needed a total of twenty minutes in the schedule for a display of some sort. ABBA’s ‘Chiquitita’ caused her to choke up – it was one of her favourite songs of all time.
As she watched the kids pair up, split off, become a row of all four together, and cross tracks in single file, all the time going around in time and with paces that matched the music’s tempo, she thought she’d never seen anything so beautiful, nor any better tribute by grandchildren to a grandmother.
With the song only five and a quarter minutes long, she was disappointed when their display was finished and all four lined up facing David, who stood, his cheeks streaked and glistening in the sun, and returned their salute with a firm nod. He then began to clap, joined in loudly by everyone.
A ripple of laughter rang out when Bruce stood up and let out an equally hearty, ‘Woof, woof,’ which set off a bout of cheering. The kids grinned and responded by bowing down low over their horses’ necks before straightening up again and riding off to leave the arena and untack their steeds ready for the final part of the service – the scattering of Agnes’s ashes – just before afternoon tea was served.
The shadows were long when Walter, Erica and Bruce headed back to the office. (Jennifer had left a bit earlier for an appointment with a bride and groom for their upcoming wedding.) Carol and Tina walked with them the rest of the way out to the car after saying goodbye to David, who had been waylaid by the grandchildren showing him something on one of their devices. Out of their father’s hearing Carol and Tina excitedly told Walter and Erica they’d found a beautiful adult male blue heeler called Ted and were driving to Whyalla the following day to collect him from the RSPCA shelter. They’d gone on to say that David couldn’t have Ted at the nursing home, but he would live at the farm with them and be there whenever he visited and, if he turned out to be as amenable as Bruce, they’d take him regularly to Laura to visit him and the other seniors. Erica was thrilled for David and she and Walter spoke over the top of one another when they asked them to send some pictures of Ted and for David to keep them updated and to also please bring the dog in to meet them at the office before too long.
‘Did you hear that, Bruce?’ Walter had said, looking into the rear-vision mirror as they drove off, more buoyed than ever before after leaving a funeral service. ‘It’s thanks to your wonderfulness that David Turner will have a canine companion in his life again. And a rescue one at that. How fabulous.’
‘Thank goodness she didn’t decide to chase or round up the horses. Wasn’t the kids’ riding display incredible? I could have watched that for hours. And that song: beautiful, but it was a bit of a sad reminder. I’m a huge ABBA fan, thanks to my parents – though I don’t recall much, if any, music being played in the house after Mark died.’
‘Hmm. I can imagine. I’ve been a bit the same since losing Mary. I used to turn up the volume inside so we could hear it when we were out in the garden, but I haven’t recently. I’m actually quite the closet ABBA fan myself,’ Walter said, shooting Erica a cheeky grin.
‘Oh, Walter, why keep it in the closet? We’ll have to do something about that! Speaking of parents – and I hope you don’t mind me completely changing the subject –’
‘No. Not at all. What is it?’
‘The play. This is sort of tongue in cheek, but goodness, it’s all a bit close to home for me – what with the step-siblings trying to sort through their parents’ messy financials and them being in a nursing home and everything.’
‘Yes. I can imagine it’s triggering all sorts of things for you. I really appreciate you running lines with me – that’s what Jennifer said it was officially called, didn’t she? I’m really not up with the lingo – but do say if it gets too much for you. I will completely understand.’
‘I will. Thanks. I’m sure I’ll be fine, and I’m really enjoying doing it.’ With all the happenstance she’d discovered, or accepted, recently, Erica couldn’t help wondering if there might be a reason for the play and her involvement in it – albeit on the periphery.
‘Two heads are always better than one, I reckon. But go on, you were talking about the content of the play being all too familiar.’
‘Oh, it doesn’t matter. It just makes me wonder how different – harder or easier – everything would have been if Mark were still alive. And of course it’s a reminder that I’m on my own and have to deal with all this stuff alone now Stuart’s gone. Just when you start to think you’re getting on top of the grief or through it, or whatever, it comes back and slaps you in the face. Sorry, I’m ruining the mood,’ Erica said.
‘Don’t be. And you’re not. I get it. It’s good to talk about these things. As I say far too often, and you’re probably sick of hearing: grief is a complicated business. I’m not convinced that ever changes – just gets a little more comfortable to live with over time.
‘But back to the play: I find it a little triggering myself, mainly due to my advancing age. I get far too many of those scam phone calls. I’m so mindful of saying “speaking” in response to the “Is that Walter Crossley?” question in case it’s recording the “yes” ready to then drain my bank account or something. I probably come across a bit pompous or blunt to some clients but so be it. And then there’s the emails – so easy to inadvertently click on one of the malicious links. It’s a damned minefield. Beware the Price of Progress indeed – perfect title for the play!’
‘Yes. I shudder to think of people like your character Edwin and Peggy’s Olive getting roped into giving the scammer remote access to their computer and having their funds drained. Not to mention their adult children having to pick up the pieces – like Ingrid and Robert as Heidi and Martin,’ Erica said.
‘It happens quite a bit by all accounts. It doesn’t help that we’re all trying to remain independent for as long as we can so don’t want to ask for help – in so many areas. Especially technology, I think, because the young ones can be so impatient. Not so much recently, but my Peter has been known to get quite exasperated. And I like to think I don’t do too badly with the tech side of things.’
‘Honestly, I think technology is just the current theme for discord; doesn’t every generation say the young ones are perpetually annoyed with their elders and vice versa?’
‘True. Since the dawn of time, I’d bet,’ Walter said. ‘I do like that Claire has written something that focuses on a pertinent and current issue, and has handled it in such a clever and entertaining way. But goodness, yes, it’s a bit close to home in parts. I have to say, I love her twist at the end where it turns out it’s the granddaughter of one of the other residents who is the scammer. That’s clever.’
‘Yes. And it means we get a rare instance of closure with the perpetrator being caught and the victim getting their money back. So, yay for that,’ Erica said.
‘How someone would even go about hacking a computer or setting up a scam boggles my mind.’
‘Hmm. Mine too. Speaking of technology, has Peggy told you Jimmy’s taught her how to use video calling and is helping her with her lines?’ I really hope he’s feeling okay about the storyline, being as the perpetrator turns out to be a young woman.
‘Yes, isn’t it marvellous? They’ve become firm friends. I’m so pleased for them both – and it does go to show young ones and older ones can knock about together quite well. Well, obviously, look at us, for that matter!’ Walter said.
‘Exactly!’ Erica smiled to herself. She took a slightly deeper breath and luxuriated in the warm sun coming through the window.
‘And I think he’s quite enamoured with young Sahara – wasn’t she a boon find for our lighting and backstage?’ Walter continued. ‘Everyone is fantastic, but her arrival on Sunday was a surprise breath of fresh air. I don’t want to jinx things, but so far it’s all working brilliantly. And her idea for doing a soundtrack for extra voices, since we don’t have enough extras, well, that’s pure genius. Not that I know anything at all about theatre goings-on.’
‘Yes. I thought that was absolutely brilliant as well. As was Jimmy’s idea to do the cut-outs of extra people standing and sitting so that when they’re turned around they become trees and shrubbery for the garden scene. That positively blew my mind!’
‘Mine too. We’re surrounded by so many clever people. And I’m having an absolute ball being entertained and distracted and feeling part of something much bigger than just my little life. I’ve never really found a local organisation that does what this is doing for me – though I might not be saying that in a few weeks when I’m having trouble remembering my lines and I’m scared of letting Jennifer and everyone else down.’
‘You’re going to be great, Walter. I know it. Your enthusiasm will get you over the line. And, remember there’s some leeway for you to ad lib – I like that about the script, too.’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. Yes, good point about the script. At least we can work on it in the office – I really appreciate you helping me, in case I haven’t already thanked you.’
‘You have. And it’s my pleasure.’ Erica felt a little left out, not having a part, but also kept reminding herself that her main job was on the night doing the makeup. That was important too. And she’d also told Jennifer she was happy to do any fetching and carrying, and had committed to Jimmy to lend a hand painting the sets when they were ready. Not that it was significant, but she’d also committed to providing biscuits or cake for the weekend sessions to help keep everyone going after the choc chip ones she’d made on a whim the Saturday just gone had been such a hit. Also heartily embraced had been Bruce, who she’d taken along after checking it was okay with the group.
‘Jennifer’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect. I feel like spring has sprung in the most magical way – and right across my life. I honestly can’t remember when I last felt this bright about things. Maybe I’ll be completely done in and fed up by the time the performance is finished with – and thank goodness my part mainly involves remaining seated – but right now I can’t help being disappointed that it’ll be over all too soon. I have a feeling the time is going to simply fly by.’
‘Hmm. Me too.’