Page 26 of The Side Road
Tash recoiled. ‘Ew, I hate it when you do that.’
‘That’s why I do it.’ Oliver stepped back. ‘How do I look?’ He opened his arms.
He wore a dark suit, grey shirt, and black tie – too formal for a country graveyard – but it was the only suit he had packed. Before the missing money, he would have said Elsie deserved his best suit. Despite her antagonistic nature, hehad a soft spot for her. With all her heart, she had loved his daughter. Now, the soft spot was hardening into a kernel.
‘Pretty good,’ Tash said. ‘But there’s something on your face.’ She licked her thumb and rubbed it over his chin.
Oliver laughed. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes.’ She caught his eye. ‘We’ve been through worse.’
‘We have. I’m here if you need me.’ He drew her in for a hug. ‘Come on. You know how much Elsie hated to be kept waiting.’
‘Lateness is disrespectful.’ Tash affected Elsie’s voice as they shuffled out the front door.
The old cemetery was on the Bells Line of Road, west of town. At a higher elevation, it overlooked the surrounding valley. A light mid-morning fog had settled over the area, covering the gravestones in mist.
Oliver parked the Citroën in the carpark at the side of the cemetery. With Tash, he made his way across the freshly cut grass toward the gravestone, a silver layer of fog covering the ground. The surrounding valley was a striking mix of green and gold and the sky so pale, it was a relief.
Reverend Rebecca raised her hand, signalling them from the far side. As they drew near, a light rain started to fall. Tash took her father’s hand. ‘It’s just likePet Cemetery,’ she whispered.
They were the first to arrive.
‘No trouble finding your way?’ Reverend Rebecca asked.
Oliver replied with a smile. After that, the conversation paused. Small talk didn’t seem appropriate, and the reverend offered nothing, so they waited in silence, breathing in the misty air.
The headstone, already in place, was ornate. A slab of cream marble shot with gold veins. For the details, theengraver had selected a stylish font. Near the base was a pictorial scene of a lamb and a descending dove.
The coffin was on a podium behind them. Oliver arched his neck, taking a closer look. He hadn’t expected Elsie to be buried in a cardboard box, but this was top of the range. Solid walnut, adorned with brass handles and a tiered lid. He imagined the interior as a plush resting place. Figures entered his head – he couldn’t help it – more than ten thousand, but less than twenty.
Reverend Rebecca checked the time on her watch, which made Oliver do the same; five minutes to ten. The mourners were cutting it fine. All at once, several cars pulled into the carpark. Blanche and Leo joined them. Arthur, the ex-newsagent owner, was behind, with Troublemaker Flora holding his arm.
Arthur sidled up to Tash and patted her fondly on the head.
Recalling Mia’s handsy comments, Oliver moved Tash to the side and positioned himself between the old man and his daughter. He would keep an eye on Arthur. Overly familiar, he hung around too often for Oliver’s liking. You could never be too sure about some people.
‘Mia’s on her way,’ Blanche whispered. ‘The BMW wouldn’t start. She called a taxi – it took forever.’
A few minutes later, Mia arrived wearing a short black dress with long sleeves and boots. Her hair was damp, and she shivered. Oliver’s immediate reaction was to keep her warm. When he offered her his jacket, she shook her head.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said to Tash. ‘All this fog, I feel like we’re in a movie.’
‘It’s certainly atmospheric,’ Blanche agreed.
The reverend started on time. She mentioned Elsie’s husband, Bob, her daughter, and her granddaughter. Theefforts Elsie had made for her family and the community. Elsie baked an excellent sponge. What else was there to say? Dozens of anecdotes, some good, some funny, and a few terrible stories that could never be repeated, came to Oliver. He reprimanded himself for not taking more control of the service. Reverend Rebecca had summed up eight decades in less than fifteen minutes, and it amounted to an unremarkable life, which Oliver knew wasn’t true. Looking around at the gathering, he realised he probably knew more about her than most of the mourners. Several stories he would take to his grave.
After the reverend read the relevant religious passages that Elsie had requested, the crowd sang ‘I Will Rise’. ‘Amazing Grace’ followed. Tash read ‘The Psalm of David’. She had memorised the piece, her voice clear and bright in the crisp morning air. Oliver smiled, quietly proud of his daughter.
As the crowd dispersed, people shared their condolences.
‘We found some old photo albums in the garage,’ Blanche told Tash. ‘After the refreshments, we thought you might like to spend the afternoon with us. We could go through them together. There are pictures of your mother when she was about your age.’
‘Yes, I want to do that,’ Tash said.
Blanche turned to Oliver. ‘Can you drive Mia back to town? You can collect Tash from ours later. No rush. Take your time.’
‘Of course.’ Oliver turned to Mia and gestured toward the carpark.
