'That's what I'm worried about. You'll exhaust yourself.' Gina touched her arm gently. 'Listen, no matter what has happened, Terry wouldn't want this, you working yourself to a frazzle.'
Bella didn't want to talk about Terry or her innermost feelings. She knew Gina was trying to help, but work was her only release, as then she didn't have time to think. 'Would you make the tea?' she asked, changing the subject and nodding to the kettle. 'Not everyone will want alcohol.'
Gina sighed heavily. 'Have it your own way, girl. But if you wash that pan any harder it will disappear down the drain.'
Bella kept scrubbing. She didn't want to think about what she would do next, say next, think next. She had found a way to cope by living in the moment. If she allowed her thoughts freedom they always returned to the dark wood where Terry had been found. He had died alone, shot by an unknown person and it was repugnant to her. Most of all, she blamed herself. It was her fault that he had gone off so much lately. Who had he seen? Where had he gone to? What crowd had he fallen in with? She had tried to persuade him to come downstairs and sleep in the spare room, but he had refused. What had been going on in his mind? Was he frightened of someone or something?
Bella realized she was staring at Mary who was being fussed over by Gus as they sat by the fire. Mary had cried throughout the funeral. Had been comforted by the priest and everyone else as the grieving mother. Now she was drinking from a glass, her cheeks red and her eyes bright as everyone paid her their condolences. Except of course Ronnie and Micky. She knew they were tolerating her presence and Mary was probably revelling in their discomfort.
'It was a lovely service,' Joyce said then and Bella came back to the moment as Joyce took one of the offered sandwiches.
'Yes, it was.'
'And a lovely tribute by the priest to Terry.'
Bella was aware that Joyce, like Gina, was trying to say the right things. She looked very beautiful with her golden Italian tan set off by her elegant black dress, but her face was full of concern.
'I'm sorry you came back to a funeral,' Bella said.
'I wish we could do something to help.'
'It's just nice that you're here. Now, can I get you a drink?'
'Ronnie's gone for one.' Joyce looked awkward. 'We are supposed to be moving in upstairs next week. But it doesn't seem very appropriate, not with…well, what I mean is - '
'You don't have to worry on my account,' Bella said stiffly. 'I've cleared Terry's room out.'
'Oh Bella, I was hoping to help you.' Joyce looked mortified.
'It was better to get it over.'
She had done it whilst Michael was at school and when Micky had gone back to the club. His fussing around had irritated her. She wasn't used to him being home and it seemed to accentuate Terry's death. Finally she had found a few moments to go upstairs. It was then she had let the tears fall. As she had placed Terry's clothes and personal effects in a box, she had wept. After that she had closed the door, ending a part of her life.
As more people arrived Bella went out to the yard. 'Would you like more to eat?' she asked the children. Emma and Victoria, Anne and Irene, Michael and Teresa were playing hopscotch. They didn't really understand the occasion. Even Teresa hadn't absorbed that her half brother was dead. It was a relief to talk to them as they seemed to carry on as usual.
'Can we have some more mince pies?' Michael wanted to know.
'I'll bring some out.'
'Can we play Blind Man's Buff?'
She gave them her purple and black silk scarf that she had worn with her black dress. When they were occupied, she made her way back to the guests. Percy and Dolly were standing by the window. 'Thank you for coming,' she said.
'We are so sorry, Bella.' Dolly had tears in her eyes and a little bump under her black skirt.
'Thanks. Now you must have something to eat.'
She was glad when Ronnie came up and engaged them in conversation. Dolly was her best friend, but Bella didn't want to talk to her now.
All she wanted to do, was keep her hands and feet going. It was the best antidote to pain that she had found. Better even than the pills she was still swallowing, trying to numb the ache inside her.
Leaving Joyce to talk to Percy and Dolly, Ronnie slipped outside and went up the steps of the airey. The October night was as clear as a bell. The stars shone down from a deep blue sky. The weather had even turned a little warmer. He wondered if he should have brought Joyce with him. They hadn't had chance to look at the old house together and next week they were moving in.
He wasn't going to stay upstairs long. Just look around and make a few mental notes as to what was needed.
He took out his key and let himself in. Immediately he closed the door, he felt odd. He stood still, listening in the darkness to the deep silence. He had been so convinced it was the right thing to do. He was going to put in a telephone and make Joyce a modern kitchen. He had so many plans, yet all of a sudden, the house felt more like a stranger than an old friend.
Switching on the light, he looked around. The place was much the same as when Mum and Dad had lived here other than a few coats of paint, new lino, different curtains. But essentially, still the same. Sean and Ashley had looked after it well. But it wouldn't be Joyce's choice.
Would she like living here? he wondered as he walked into the front room. Mum's big, polished
