this come from? Judith and Ginny between them? Madison’s mother and Madison’s new mother. Two redoubtable women.
There was a sniff beside him and the clutch on his hand tightened. ‘Oh, Fergus,’ Miriam quavered, and he would have given her his handkerchief but he needed it himself.
‘That’s what we have to do,’ Ginny said softly into the hushed-except for sniffing-silence. ‘We need to say goodbye to Richard and bury his shell.’
A guitarist-one of Richard’s friends-started to play. Six more of Richard’s friends separated from the congregation to act as pallbearers and Ginny and Madison and dogs led the way out into the sunshine.
It was over.
Afterwards refreshments were served in the church hall. It was more like a party than a wake, Fergus thought. He couldn’t get near Ginny. He stayed for more than an hour, an outsider watching. In the end he was almost desperate for a medical emergency to draw him away, but his beeper stayed silent and he couldn’t leave. He just… couldn’t.
So he stayed and he watched as Ginny smiled her way through the afternoon, greeting people over and over, listening to anecdotes of Richard’s life, being polite, trying desperately not to sway with weariness.
He could see exhaustion seeping in but there was nothing he could do about it. The only time he approached her, her smile had slipped and she’d said with something akin to desperation, ‘Go away, Fergus. I don’t need you. I can’t. Please. Just go away.’
So he’d gone away, but not far. He’d made small talk to other people and he’d tried not to look at her.
Instead, he’d watched Madison.
It had been an extraordinary performance, he thought, recalling the way she’d spoken to everyone in the church. For a four-year-old to speak like that…
She was the only child of a single mother, and he recognised the result. Judith must have talked to this little one as an equal. She must have needed Madison almost as much as Madison had needed her. The result was a child who was older than her years.
But she could still revert.
Tony’s children were here, and others. Richard’s friends were in the age group who had young children and there were maybe a score of youngsters in the hall. Doing what kids do when grown-ups were boring. Amusing themselves.
The overflow of flowers had been brought in here, set up in vast urns or simply lain in fabulous colourful piles around the walls. Looking at Madison’s garland in envy, some of the older children had set up a cottage industry. The older ones had taught the younger ones, and now the funeral flowers were being made into daisy chains. Daisy chains with a difference. Instead of daisies, every single flower imaginable was put into use.
The children made garlands for themselves and then they moved on to parents and aunts and uncles and friends, and finally every single person in the hall was being decorated with Richard’s flowers.
It was fantastic, Fergus thought, and the remembrance of his own little girl slipped back. Molly would have loved this. Molly, who’d slipped from her shell too soon…
But she’d had a wonderful life.
As the afternoon settled so, too, did a part of his pain. Madison’s words echoed over and over in his heart.
‘We have to enjoy every minute of being in our shells.’
These children were doing just that. Making flower garlands from funeral flowers.
He watched Madison, intent on her flowers. Too old for her years, she was intent now on reverting to childhood.
Enjoying every minute of her time…
He could help. He could…
‘It’s a pity you can’t stay on in the valley,’ an elderly lady was telling him. ‘You know, this place is calling out for two doctors. You and our Ginny’d make a ripper medical team.’
Yes, we would, Fergus thought, but it wasn’t just the medical concept he was thinking of. It was as if the fog he’d been moving in for the last few months was lifting, and outside the fog was…
Life?
‘We’ll have to think about it,’ he said absently to his conversation partner. Madison had just completed her garland and he wanted to see what she did with it.
She’d been lying full length on the floor, totally committed to the job at hand. Now she looked up, scanning the hall, looking to see which of the adults were not yet decorated.
Most were. The older children were working faster than the littlies and the production line was becoming efficient.
Ginny was wearing no less than six garlands. Fergus had two. The lady he was talking to had three.
At the far end of the hall the men had set up a bar. He watched as Madison searched the crowd, looking for a bare neck.
Oscar.
He was in a wheelchair, soaking up the free booze. What was the man doing here? Fergus though in irritation.
Madison started to move toward him.
Fergus moved to intercept. He didn’t trust…
‘Doc, if you’re not going to stay, at least tell us where you’ll be practising in the city,’ the lady beside him said, and she grasped his arm as he tried to move away. ‘My daughter lives in Sydney and her doctor’s terrible. Last week she had three children down with chickenpox and could she get her doctor to do a house call? I don’t think so. And the migraines she gets… You have no idea.’
Her grip on his arm was insistent. Fergus was too late to stop Madison. She’s already reached Oscar.
Let the man be gracious, he thought. Let him accept his garland and get on with his drinking.
The garland caught Oscar by surprise. Because he was in a wheelchair, Madison could reach. She simply slipped up behind him and the garland plopped over his head.
He spilled his beer, swore and swivelled.
What happened next Fergus couldn’t tell. He was too far away to hear.
But the man grabbed the child by the arm, hauled her up so his face was right in hers and spat words at her that made her blench.
And then he almost threw her aside.
Others were closer than Fergus. Tony reached her first, sweeping her up as one of his own, hugging her, letting her bury her face in his shoulder and carrying her back to Ginny.
That should be me, Fergus thought, struggling through the crowd, and the surge of certainty was so great that he felt almost overwhelmed by it. It was as much as he could do not to haul over there and grab the little girl from Tony’s arms.
But she needed Ginny. Already Ginny had gained her trust, and when Tony reached her Ginny held out her arms and Madison crumpled into them and sobbed her heart out.
There was nothing for Fergus to do. Except…
He was right by Oscar now, hardly aware how he’d got there.
‘What the hell did you say to her?’
‘Nothing,’ Oscar muttered, and held up his empty glass. ‘Get me another. Bloody kid spilled my drink’
There was a nurse close by-a girl who’d come with the six nursing-home residents. She moved forward, unsure, and Fergus motioned her closer. ‘I want Mr Bentley back in the nursing home,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Now.’
‘You can’t tell me-’
‘The only reason you’re not being prosecuted for cruelty to animals is that you pleaded disability,’ Fergus snapped. ‘The inspectors spoke to me and I was forced to confirm it. But if you’re well enough to attend funerals, if you’re well enough to get drunk on free beer and to abuse young children, then you’re well enough to stand trial over neglected horses and dogs and sheep.’
‘You wouldn’t-’
‘Watch me,’ Fergus said, through gritted teeth. He glanced up and found Miriam. ‘Miriam, could you arrange Mr
