The sun was high overhead as six jet-black horses with black feathered plumes across their bridles stopped outside the gate. Cat saw their shining flanks quivering occasionally as they waited, but only their perfectly groomed tails showed any sign of movement in the May morning sun.
Her heart palpitated in her chest but she was determined to see things through with dignity. She would be brave, for Louis’ sake.
Seeing the funeral director and coffin bearers approach the house, she slipped her arm though Ned’s and he squeezed it tight. Then she released his grip and went along the hallway to open the door.
As the door opened the funeral director bowed his head.
‘We are ready to receive your husband now, Madam.’
Speechless, Cat merely stepped aside and the black-coated men went quietly into the parlour.
‘Wait,’ she called. ‘Wait just a moment please,’ and she pushed through the men who had gathered around the coffin, about the screw down the lid.
‘Let me say one more goodbye, please.’
For the last time, Cat leaned over and kissed Louis’ lips, his closed eyes and his forehead, and murmured. ‘Goodbye, my darlin’.’
Then, unable to watch the men closing the lid on Louis, she turned away and went into the scullery to wait with the rest of the family.
They all stood listening until finally they heard the last sounds of the men’s feet scuffing through the parlour, along the hallway and out of the front door.
Soon after, the funeral director returned and said they were ready to go; so, composed, Cat left the house supported by Ned.
Following Cat and Ned was Billy holding hands with Marie. Maeve came next holding hands with Eileen and Anna. Peggy and Breda followed with Lize, Iris and Fred, Maureen and Reggie. Louis’ mother, unable to walk the two miles to the cemetery, was absent.
Led by Cat and Ned they all went quietly to stand in place behind the glass-sided hearse. The only sound breaking the silence was the gentle clinking of the bridles as the horses moved their heads, as their black plumed feathers lifted and fell in the slight breeze.
In the stillness Cat became vaguely aware of neighbours lining the roadside to pay their last respects; of curtains drawn on every home; the men lifting their hats, and the sound of horses’ hooves clashing against cobbles as they became impatient to proceed.
The funeral director stepped up to her and asked if she was ready to go and when she nodded, the hearse drew gently away.
As they left, Cat’s mind raced through past events. She thought about the home they had lived in which had known both harsh times and laughter. Visions of their life together flashed through her mind. All the joint memories kaleidoscoped, and she found it hard to grasp that they were now taking this last journey together, moving towards Louis’ final resting place, where he would lie alone in perpetuity.
Throughout the walk Cat was transfixed with the sound of the coffin bearers’ boots crunching along in unison with the wheels of the hearse and the clip clop of horses’ hooves. The rhythm somehow soothed her. It felt like the ticking of a clock.
On and on she walked, thinking that life was just like a treadmill, and that they were all on it together. Sometimes, she thought, someone just steps off the wheel a bit earlier than the rest. Ultimately she knew that her parents, her sisters, her children and herself would all step off somewhere, at some time, further along in time from life’s eternal wheel.
Walking in the early summer sun, up slight inclines and down gently sloping roadways, became therapeutic to her. If only she could just go on walking like this, with Louis in front of them and the children behind. She could walk forever and not let this day end. Just to walk on endlessly, following her man.
After a mile the procession stopped and the funeral director approached Cat and said they would rest for five minutes.
Ned thanked him and took a hip flask out of his pocket. He offered the canteen to Cat.
‘Here, I’ve brought some water for ye.’
She took it without a word, drank some, and handed it back.
‘When you are quite ready, Madam,’ the funeral director said, ‘we will go on, but please take your time, there is no hurry.’
Cat looked at him quizzically. No hurry? No, she thought, there’s no hurry. Time means nothing at all now. There’s no today, no tomorrow, and no next week or anything anymore. It didn’t matter how much time it took to get there, the longer the better, because it meant Louis was still with them.’
She nodded to Ned. ‘I’m ready now. We’ll make a start again.’
So he indicated to the funeral director that they should go and once more they began following the hearse along the cobbled road.
* * *
The priest blessed Louis’ coffin with holy water and the coffin bearers lowered him slowly into the grave.
Cat watched as the oak casket bumped the sides of the hole on its way downward and felt angry, wishing they would be more careful.
Ned, sensing her anguish, squeezed her arm and stepped forward to take up a handful of earth. He handed it to her and one by one the children stepped forward and did the same.
The priest was chanting.
‘Ashes to ashes, dust-to-dust, earth-to-earth.’
She took one final look at the coffin and with her eyes shut threw in her handful of earth. The children watched her and did the same, then wiped their hands on their clothes.
Cat left the cemetery with the children and stood for a while looking over the stone wall as the gravediggers filled in the grave. Then sadly she turned and began walking home to life without Louis.