Page 4 of Good Sisters

Thank God Louise had taken the reins and arranged everything because neither Sophie nor Gavin nor I would have done a good job. Poor Dad just wandered around the house like a lost puppy, picking things up and putting them down. We all needed Louise, bossy or not. She was like a machine. While we were all reeling from shock and sobbing into tissues, my super-human older sister had organized the readings, music, priest, organist, undertakers, coffin, hearse, funeral cars, flowers and the funeral booklets. She’d chosen a photo of Mum to put on the front of the booklet that I didn’t particularly like. Mum looked very serious in it. I would havepreferred one of her smiling – she had a great smile – but I certainly wasn’t going to mention that after all Louise’s hard work. I also valued my life, and I was afraid I might end up in the coffin with Mum if I criticized anything.

‘We’re here,’ Louise announced, as if we hadn’t noticed the church, the hearse and the crowds of people streaming inside to pay their respects.

Sophie squeezed my hand. We climbed out and stood behind the coffin, waiting for the funeral singer to start. It was like a wedding – music, friends and family, good clothes and shoes on – but instead of a bride, we had a corpse.

My shoes were now causing me severe pain. My two little toes were being crushed into oblivion. I was trying to breathe through the throbbing when I felt a poke in the back. I turned to see Marion. ‘Hey there.’ I gave her a watery smile.

‘Hey, yourself. You look like crap.’ She hugged me tightly.

‘Cheers, Marion.’

‘I’m so sorry for your loss. I know your mum never liked me, but still, she liked you, which is what matters.’

‘Thanks.’ I grinned at my old neighbour and friend. Marion was never one to mince her words.

‘Good luck. Funerals are a fucking nightmare. Throngs of old farts queuing up to tell you boring stories about your dead parent. All they really want is to be invited to the free lunch where they will criticize everything about the funeral and your family while stuffing their faces and throwing back the free wine.’

‘That’s just not true, we’ve heard some lovely stories about Mum from her friends,’ Sophie hissed. Never a fan of Marion, she looked positively allergic to her right now.

Marion shrugged. ‘I’ll go in before I insult anyone else with my big mouth.’

‘Probably for the best.’ I urged her inside before she caused a scene.

The side door of the church opened and my stepdaughter, Christelle, came out with Clara, who rushed over to her mother.

‘What’s wrong, darling?’ Louise’s face melted on seeing her daughter.

‘I want to be with you, Mummy. I know you’re sad about Granny and I’m sad about Granny. I want to be beside you.’

Christelle put up her hands. ‘I tried to get her to stay with me but she insisted and she was getting wound up – her breathing was getting heavy.’

We all knew that hand flapping or a change in Clara’s breathing was the precursor to a meltdown. It was a warning sign that meant red alert. Christelle was so sweet with her.

‘It’s okay, Christelle, thanks. Clara can stay with me.’ Louise held her daughter’s hand, but Clara pulled it away.

‘No, Mummy. Your hand’s hot and wet.’

Louise let go immediately and placed her hand gently on her nine-year-old’s shoulder. ‘Is that okay?’ she asked.

Clara nodded.

Christelle shuffled over to me. ‘In other news, Leo has split his pants at the back so he can’t do the bidding prayer, but don’t worry, I’ll do it instead.’

I loved my stepdaughter even more than usual at that moment. I mouthed, ‘Thank you,’ as she winked and disappeared back into the church.

‘I’ll walk with Dad and Clara, then you and Sophie, and Gavin at the back,’ Louise barked.

‘The loser on his own, again,’ Gavin grumbled.

Once Louise’s back was turned, Sophie and I linked arms with our younger brother and squashed him between us.

We all walked slowly up the aisle behind our mother’scoffin as a soloist sang ‘The Soft Goodbye’. It was beautiful and haunting.

My heart broke as I finally accepted that Mum was gone, that there had been no terrible mistake, that this was goodbye. And I knew I’d never be quite the same again.

2. Louise

Clara pulled off her headphones. ‘It’s so loud, Mummy. I can hear the music through these,’ she complained.

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