Page 4 of The Situation Ship
“I didn’t come for money, but your generosity is greatly appreciated, especially by the older kids.” Emily beamed, tears of relief glistening in her eyes.
“Please don’t mention it, and feel free to email me if there is anything else. I’ll get back to you as soon as possible,” Poppy said. She never shared her number – if she gave it to one person, suddenly everyone had it. Email was easier for situations like this.
“I will. Thank you, and I’m sorry again for your loss,” Emily said, gently patting Poppy’s arm.
“Are you not going to stay for the funeral?” Poppy asked.
“I really just came to see you and pay my respects. Now that we’ve talked, I have to get back to the children,” Emily said apologetically.
“I’m glad we got to talk. Please allow Marty to take you home or wherever you need to go.” Poppy waved over Marty, her aunt’s longest-serving bodyguard, from her security team.
“Thank you, and I wish you every happiness in the future,” Emily said as Poppy helped her navigate the slippery steps with her cane.
“Please grab my umbrella from the car and make sure Ms Green gets home,” Poppy instructed Marty. She didn’t want the elderly woman to struggle through the crowd or wait for a taxi in the rain.
“I’d be happy to escort you,” Marty said brightly, offering Emily his arm.
“Such a gentleman.” Emily smiled as she accepted his help, allowing him to lead her away from the gravel entrance. Poppy mouthed a thank you to Marty, who nodded in response. She watched as they left the grounds. In spite of her desire for a private funeral, discovering her aunt’s single good deed made her feel there might have been some light in her late aunt’s soul.
“Poppy?” Joshua called as he came over, running a hand through his highlighted hair, speckled with rain from greeting the fans outside. “Who was that? They want to get started.”
“Just someone paying their respects,” she said, following him down the packed pews to the front row. They’d never talked about her younger years; now wasn’t the time to start.
In the first pew, Poppy stared at the casket, waiting for Aunt Martha to pop out and tell everyone what Poppy had done that night. So far nobody seemed to even imagine that she’d had any involvement in her aunt’s death, but Poppy would only truly be relieved when the casket was six feet under.
She kept her shades on for the service, a tissue clutched tightly in her hand to ensure she gave the right impression. Joshua awkwardly gripped her hand.
As the priest began the final prayer, Poppy heard a commotion outside but couldn’t see anything. She was glad she had hired extra security. Martha would be so pleased to see how desperate people were to grieve for her. Poppy couldn’t help but smile at the image of her aunt staring up at them, delighted by the crowds gathered in her memory.
“Ms Roe?” the priest whispered, reclaiming her attention. “If you’d like to join me at the front of the casket so the parishioners can offer their sympathies.”
Parishioners? I’m surprised half of those in attendance didn’t burst into flames when they stepped into the church.Poppy kept the thought to herself, offering the priest a small smile before following him up the small steps to stand with a few of her aunt’s friends. The priest directed the queue of mourners eager to shake her hand or squeeze her a little too tightly. Poppy was relieved they had limited this part to only ten minutes. Luckily, she managed to muster up some tears, reminding herself to give her acting coach a big tip.
“Quite the turnout. If only Martha could see how beloved she is,” her aunt’s manager – and Poppy’s by default – whispered in her ear. She shuddered in disgust. Since none of Martha’s four ex-husbands had come to mourn her, Duggery Dayson was about as close as she got to having a life partner here.
“That’s because they didn’t know her. They loved the characters she played,” Poppy whispered back, shaking hands with people who told her how sorry they were and how lucky she was to have been raised by such a beloved legend. It felt endless, no matter how many hands she shook or cheeks she kissed. Being a great actress didn’t make her aunt a good person.
“Don’t say such things. We’re in a church,” Duggery scolded her.
“And the church is all about being honest,” Poppy countered, taking flowers from a young fan.
“Your aunt loved you and would want you to continue her legacy,” Duggery pontificated. The smell of horrible cigars on his breath made her inch away from him.
“Loved me? It’s a sin to lie in a church, and I have no plans to continue her legacy. You both forced me into this life, and now that she’s dead, I will decide what happens next,” she whispered as the priest thanked everyone for attending the service.
“We can talk about this later. Now isn’t the time or place for one of your temper tantrums,” Duggery snapped.
Poppy turned to face him and took his arms as though consoling him. He had been their manager since her aunt was a teenager, so she didn’t know how he was still alive. She suspected he had made a pact with the devil to inflict as much misery as possible on turning people’s dreams into nightmares in exchange for a long life.
“Don’t worry, you won’t have to worry about my temper tantrums any longer because you’re fired,” she whispered, giving him a final hug. Her hands shook as she dared to do what she’d desperately wanted to for as long as she could remember.
“You can’t fire me!” Mr Duggery tightened his grip on her elbow.This will be the last time he ever touches me.
“Yes, I can. The lawyers are already breaking any legal ties between us. I wouldn’t advise you to stop it, unless you want your dirty laundry aired publicly. You worked with my aunt for a long time, and there are too many skeletons to count.”
“You ungrateful bitch,” he hissed as the church started to empty around them.
“Unless you want to cause a scene, you will leave now. You will feign how overwhelmed you are, leave, and never show your face again.” Poppy dabbed her eyes with a tissue.
