He nods.
‘Why?’
William takes a gulp of tea, holds his mug in both hands. He glances from Robert to Howard and sees the same intensity of gaze upon him. ‘It’s gone on long enough, hasn’t it? We don’t have forever.’
Robert quickly wipes his cheek with the back of his hand.
‘But she wasn’t there,’ he says, ‘she was here, wasn’t she? Picking up Gloria.’
‘How do you know?’ Robert’s cheeks are pink.
‘Her neighbour told me.’
‘And you drove straight back here?’ Howard passes him the plate of biscuits. William takes one.
‘Didn’t know what else to do.’
‘You missed them by less than an hour,’ Robert says softly.
‘We’re just back from taking them to Spaghetti Junction,’ Howard says. ‘Your mum was worried she’d get on the wrong way and end up in Ipswich.’
‘Were you going to tell me?’
‘What, that she’s been here?’ Robert gestures with open hands at the room.
‘That she and Gloria have somehow become best friends.’
Robert looks to Howard first, then to William. He exhales, shakes his head. ‘Glory be, William, none of us knew what to do for the best. But you should have talked to her,’ he says, with a pleading in his face.
‘I couldn’t! She’d have persuaded me to stay! Just like she persuaded me to marry her in the first place!’
‘She was in such a mess’ – Robert frowns – ‘and she kept saying she wanted to see your mother.’
‘Why would that matter so much?’ William asks. Again, he sees the helpless glance between the two men.
‘William.’ Howard sounds matter of fact. ‘These things are between you and Gloria, not us. You need to speak to her.’
‘I’ve told you, I can’t. Gloria getting to know Mum isn’t going to help anyone.’
‘You’re not in a position to judge that, William. Not until you’ve spoken to Gloria.’
‘Are you going to the wedding?’ Howard picks his mug up and takes a sip.
‘I wanted a proper conversation with her. I won’t be able to do that at the wedding. Don’t you think it will be odd, just being there but not being able to talk?’
‘Maybe,’ says Howard, ‘but this whole situation is odd, always has been. It’d be one hell of an olive branch, don’t you think, being there, with a big beautiful smile on your face, as she comes down the aisle?’
‘If Gloria wasn’t going to be there it would be a lot easier,’ William says.
‘How about you do this for your mother,’ Robert says, ‘and then deal with Gloria afterwards.’
‘Easily said.’ William can’t help but smile at the hopeful looks on their faces. ‘But OK. I’ll try.’
‘Hallelujah!’ says Robert. ‘Will you go back to Cambridge in the meantime?’
‘I’ve got to get Martin’s car back to him.’ He smiles at them. ‘But I’m home now. You can leave the mortuary to me, I’ll take care of everything.’
61
William gently lifts the seventy-three-year-old man into his coffin. The embalming has taken him two hours. He quickly puts him in the tweedy suit and checked tie his family has provided. The sun casts the golden glow that appears in the room mid-morning. He’s nearly finished; the man’s sparse hair only needs a quick comb. It feels good to be back in here, doing what he does well.
After two quick knocks, Howard comes in. ‘Martin on the phone for you.’
William puts the comb on the man’s chest and goes through to the office. ‘Martin?’
‘How are you doing?’
‘OK. Just finished my first embalming. Still trying to get to grips with Mum’s wedding.’
‘Are you going to go?’
‘Yes. Howard pointed out it would be the mother of all olive branches.’
Martin chuckles, then after a pause asks, ‘How do you feel about seeing Gloria?’
‘Terrified.’
Another pause, and he hears Martin inhale suddenly. ‘She rang me, from your mum’s. She says that if you’re going, it might be good – for everyone – if I came too.’
William sees Howard looking up from his desk. ‘Easier? How?’
‘They think you’d have me, if you needed someone. And so would Gloria, I suppose.’ He lets out a weak laugh. ‘Think of me as ballast.’