Strange Sally Diamond

I introduced Mark to Aunt Christine, but in the melee of people trying to offer condolences, it wasn’t possible to explain properly.

‘Would you like me to come back to the house afterwards?’ said Mark, as I was being hustled into the car with Aunt Christine and Lorraine to go to the graveyard. I gave him the address and he said he’d see me there in an hour. He had driven all the way.

Few people came to the grave so that was more manageable for me. In the funeral car on the way back to the house, Aunt Christine asked who my friend was.

‘That’s Mark. He moved to Carricksheedy a few months ago, I think. I hope it’s okay that I invited him back to your house?’

‘That’s fine. Are you … in a relationship?’

‘No, not at all, he’s a friend.’

Lorraine sniffed. ‘He must be a very good friend to drive all the way here to come to the funeral of someone he’s probably never heard of.’

Lorraine didn’t like me, I could tell. I don’t know why. I tried to put myself in her shoes. Who was I to her? The adopted niece of her sister-in-law who had no relationship with her deceased brother. She probably knew all about my background. She probably knew that I’d tried to cremate my dad.

‘Lorraine, I know you think I don’t belong here. I didn’t know Donald well, but Aunt Christine asked me to come and my therapist keeps telling me that I should try to socialize with more people.’

‘Oh … I didn’t mean … sorry. It was a lovely service, wasn’t it?’

‘I didn’t know Uncle Donald played the piano.’

Lorraine became chattier then and talked about the times that Donald had played the piano in jazz clubs in Soho when they were young. She was also widowed and lived in a small village in Sussex. She had a daughter who couldn’t come to the funeral because her own daughter had just had a baby.

‘So, you’re a great-grandmother?’

‘Yes, it’s a privilege to live long enough to see your great-grandchild. I wish my granddaughter had been married first, but it’s not like in our day, is it, Christine?’

Aunt Christine said she wished she and Donald could have had children and Lorraine apologized for being insensitive.

‘I’m insensitive all the time,’ I said, ‘I can’t help it. It’s because of my upbringing.’

Lorraine looked out of the window and Aunt Christine put her hand on my arm. I guess nobody wanted to discuss my upbringing.

When we got back to the house, I helped to lay out trays of sandwiches and apple pies and sausage rolls, delivered by neighbours and friends. Those who had been at the graveyard came in and were soon joined by others. I was delighted to see Mark.

‘Are you okay?’ he said.

‘Better now that you’re here.’

I introduced him properly to Aunt Christine and Lorraine.

‘I’m sure Sally is grateful to have a friend here. So, how did you two meet?’

‘He pulled over in his car and tried to get me into it.’

‘What?’

‘It was a misunderstanding,’ said Mark quickly, ‘but I was new to Carricksheedy and Sally was one of my first friends. You’re her mum’s sister, right?’

Aunt Christine talked a little bit about Jean. Mark offered his condolences on the death of Donald.

‘So, were you and Jean close? You must have been a great support to her when she adopted Sally,’ he said.

‘Oh yes,’ she said, distracted. She asked me if I could make sure that everyone had tea or coffee and to pass the sandwiches around. I swallowed my nerves. Nobody here knew me. None of them had met me before. I kept my eyes down as I did the rounds with the tea and coffee pots, and then with the platters of food. I could see that Mark was still engaged in conversation with Aunt Christine.

As the afternoon wore on, I went into the dining room and began to play the piano. I chose some Mozart sonatas. Nothing too sad or too upbeat. People drifted in and out of the room, and complimented me on my playing.

A short while later, Mark came in, a little agitated. ‘I’m going to go now. Would you like a lift back to Carricksheedy?’

‘No thanks, I’m staying tonight and then going shopping with Sue in the morning.’

He seemed disappointed. ‘Right. I’ll see you back in the village. I’ll give you a call over the next few days.’

‘Thanks, Mark.’

‘Any news from New Zealand?’

‘No.’

He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Take care of yourself, Sally.’

I felt okay. I drifted back and refilled platters and offered tea, coffee and wine for those who were drinking.

In the end, there was just Lorraine and Aunt Christine and me. As we cleared the rooms of plates and glasses, cups and saucers and napkins, they talked about Donald.

I was tired. The day had not been the ordeal I had feared but the tablet had taken its toll on my energy levels.

‘I need to talk to you in the morning, Sally, before you go,’ said Aunt Christine. ‘Thank you for being here today. You were a great help, wasn’t she, Lorraine?’

Lorraine nodded.

‘You don’t mind taking the box room, Sally? I have Lorraine in the main guest room.’

I did mind. A new bedroom always unsettled me.

‘You’ll have an entirely new house soon, won’t you?’ said Lorraine and that was not an unreasonable point.