The Godson's Legacy Page 3

  The music of Starlight express swelled again…

  Only you have the power within you.

  Just believe in yourself -

  The sea will part before you,

  Stop the rain, turn the tide.

  If only you use the power within you

  Needn’t beg the world

  To turn around and help you

  If you draw on what you have within you

  Somewhere deep inside.’

  Joanne squeezed Rupert’s hand as she watched a single tear run down his cheek.

  ‘OK?’ She whispered.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, his voice telling a different tale. ‘The words of that song are so poignant, I just wish I could live up to them.’

  ‘You can Rupert, I’ll help you.’ She said, pressing his hand.

  At the end of the ceremony, the girls again removed their coats leaving them on the pews and, dressed only in their basques, once more braved the cold. The pretty procession lined up and gently pushed the coffin back through the line of pews and out towards the ancient doorway, where Norman chevrons and sculptured heads still adorned the inner face of the archway.

  Suddenly the strains of ‘Always look on the bright side of life’ resonated through the church. The Monty Python theme tune from the film ‘Life of Brian’ brought smiles all round and helped to lift the gloom even further.

  Andy laughed and felt the pinprick of tears at Geoffery’s whimsical choice. He swallowed hard to maintain his composure. Geoffery had a sense of humour after all.

  As the girls passed by on their solemn duty, all the male mourners said a quiet ‘thank you’ to Geoffery for giving them a moment’s voyeuristic pleasure.

  On arriving at the Church door, the undertaker’s team took over again. Meanwhile, Ben and Nadine had retrieved the girl’s coats from the pews and had given them back to the girls, who gratefully slipped them back on for the short journey to the graveside, Geoffery’s final resting place.

  Gently lifting the coffin off the casket trolley the Funeral Directors team carried it carefully through the door and down the sloping pathway.

  The Funeral Director, now with his hand on the front of the coffin, walked backwards down the slope. The same method that Carrie had seen the bodies of many of her former army colleagues repatriated, down the ramps of Hercules transport planes.

  The procession crunched its way through the frozen grass of the old graveyard. Carefully avoiding the icy, meandering tarmac path, they entered into an adjoining burial ground, managed by the Parish Council.

  Although, officially, Geoffery did not meet the strict criteria for being interred in the burial ground, several significant donations to the Parish Council and Church helped secure his final resting place.

  The young people of the Parish had benefitted from Geoffery’s generosity, with the purchase of a complex of recreational equipment, skate ramps, BMX track and various other facilities.

  The Church had benefitted from a major tree clearance project. Removing the Austrian firs, planted in the 19th century; which had been causing subsidence to the ancient building.

  The local population benefitted from the avenues of view to the Church, that it had opened up. The beautiful Church on the Hill was now visible from miles away. It was sight many had never seen before.

  Geoffery’s grave had been ‘generously’ excavated. Appropriate financial arrangements had been made to pay the Gravedigger a bonus to ensure that sufficient earth had been removed so his coffin didn’t get stuck whilst being lowered.

  He likened it to the executioners of old who were given money by their victims to make sure it was a quick, professional kill.

  The vicar was visibly shivering as she hurriedly made her address, her cheeks marbled by the icy wind in spite of wearing a long black flowing cloak over her robes.

  As the coffin was gently lowered into the frost edged grave she said. ‘We commend unto thy hands of mercy, most merciful Father, the soul of this our brother departed, and we commit his body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust…’

  Once the coffin was in place, the Vicar completed the commitment. She then offered the mourners a small wooden box containing dirt and invited them to take some and sprinkle it over the coffin.

  Nadine tensely took up the offer and sprinkled a small handful onto the casket. At the sound of the dirt hitting the wood, Nadine started to cry. Her tears painting tramlines of mascara down her cheeks.

  Geoffery’s nightmares about Nadine throwing dirt over him in his grave had been a premonition after all, except now, he knew nothing about it.

  ‘She’s got a nerve coming over here, especially after she left him,’ Kay said, quietly.

  ‘Pardon?’ Carrie said. ‘Who do you mean, like?’

  ‘That French tart. The one throwing dirt on his coffin. She was Geoffery’s partner and left him when he started his cancer treatment; just when he was at his most vulnerable. When he needed her the most.’

  ‘Perhaps she’s after his money, now he’s gone,’ Carrie added.

  ‘Well she ain’t having none of mine,’ said Tim, belligerently. ‘I earned mine going up those bloody mountains he made me climb.’

  ‘It did you good though son,’ Kay said, proudly.

  ‘That’s a matter of opinion. It nearly killed me.’

  ‘You should be grateful. He did a lot for you. He introduced you to Carrie as well, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose he did at least one good thing,’ Tim reluctantly agreed, squeezing Carrie’s hand.

  Suddenly the air reverberated as a large double rotor helicopter flew overhead. Carrie immediately let go of Tim’s hand and knelt on the ground in an awkward crouching position and put her arm up as if holding a rifle.

  ‘Stop messing about Carrie,’ Tim berated her.

  ‘What are you doing? You’re at a funeral, for heaven sake. Have some respect,’ added Kay uncomfortably.

  Carrie was moving from the waist, swivelling her arms as she was apparently scanning the area around her.

  ‘Carrie stop. It… It’s not funny, Stand up! This is England, not effing Afghanistan.’

  ‘Sector ‘A’ clear Sir,’ she said, in a controlled voice, ignoring the rebuttal.

  ‘Carrie, stand up. Everybody’s looking at you.’

  ‘Is she alright?’ asked Andy coming over.

  ‘Carrie! Carrie! Stand up you prat.’ Tim shook her.

  ‘Waiting for medevac clearance. Sector ‘A’ still clear.’

  ‘Stop it now, this isn’t funny.’

  ‘Just leave her.’ Andy instructed, looking into her staring eyes. ‘She might be having a seizure. Is she epileptic?

  ‘Not that I’m aware of. No.’

  ‘I think she’s in a trance.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Is she in the forces?’

  ‘No. Well, yes she was. But not now though.’

  ‘I think she’s experiencing some sort of flashback.’

  ‘Flashback?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve read about it in the medical press, but never seen it before. Lots of service personnel are coming back with PTSD.’

  ‘PTSD?’

  ‘Yes, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It comes and goes. Usually something triggers it off. Has she been injured?’

  ‘Yeah, lost both legs in an explosion.’

  ‘That’ll probably be it then. That helicopter, a Chinook, wasn’t it? Probably took her mind back to being on duty. It was used for Medical Evacuations.’

  Suddenly a yellow Sea King helicopter flew over on a similar flight path as the Chinook.

  ‘Medivac over! Roger. Standing by.’ Carrie continued.

  Immediately Carrie came out of her trance. ‘What am I doing down here?’ she asked puzzled, looking at Tim.

  ‘You tell me. You made a right prat of yourself,’ he said, lifting her up.

  ‘Look at your dress, it’s all dirty now,’ Kay pointed out.

  ‘You OK?’ Andy said, lo
oking into her eyes.

  ‘Yeah, why what happened? Carrie asked, mystified.

  ‘Nothing, you must have slipped over,’ said Andy, looking to Tim to support his story.

  ‘Umm…yeah…You must have.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  23rd December

  With the interment over, people started drifting away leaving Andy and Nadine watching Ben planting a simple wooden cross at the head of the grave which had yet to be filled in.

  ‘He made it from some charred timbers from the old Scout hut.’ Andy informed her. ‘Geoffery paid for a replacement after it was burnt down.’ Ben really liked the old man. He’s even carved Geoffery’s name on it, too.’

  ‘Zank you for what you did for ma Geofferie. I wish I ‘ad been here sooner. When he was still…still alive,’ she said, filling up. ‘It was a lovely service. He would have approved.’

  ‘Yes, I agree. He left strict instructions for the Funeral Director as to what should happen.’

  ‘E always knew what ‘e wanted,’ Nadine reflected, ‘Monsieur Perfection.’

  ‘Yes, in more ways than one,’ Andy added, thinking about Geoffery’s manipulative powers ensuring that things were done his way.

  ‘The sun is going down, it will be dark shortly. We should be going, no?’ Nadine said looking around.

  ‘I gather this was his favourite part of the day, watching the sun set. On the last day when he…he died…I took him up to the Cotswolds to see…the…his last one.’ Andy’s thoughts flashed back to Geoffery’s final outing to Cleeve Common.

  ‘Mais oui, that was when I arrived at the hospice, remember?’

  ‘Oh, of course.’

  ‘Ad he not chosen to go there…I would have seen ‘im…alive, perhaps. But I saw the sunset down at the hospice. We watched the same sunset at the same time, even if we weren’t together.’

  ‘I can take you to see the sunset today if you like,’ Andy said, awkwardly. ‘You get a great view from the top of the hill here. I have to add that I don’t always proposition strangers like this,’ he joked. For this was the first in-depth conversation he’d had with Nadine.

  ‘But of course. It will be right to see a sunset today. ‘Iz final sunset,’ Nadine said, looking at the cotton wool clouds now tinged pink. ‘But what about ze others?’ she asked, concerned. ‘Shouldn’t we be joining zem?’

  ‘It’s just a few hundred yards; the others won’t even know that we are missing for a few minutes.’

  ‘Oui. Let us go and see Geofferee’s final sunset,’ Nadine agreed.

  Andy led her away from the group of mourners who were standing chatting in the car park.

  They walked a short distance along a narrow tarmac road, funnelled in both sides by chain link fences. On the other side of the fences were large grass covered mounds hiding subterranean reservoirs.

  ‘Is zat the red light we saw when landing at the airport?’ She asked, gazing at the light on top of a tall radio pylon.

  ‘Yes, there are two red ones. There’s another one on the aerial over there. I assume that they act as a warning to the planes using the airport about the height of the hill,’ he suggested.

  ‘I seem to remember a white light too,’ she added.

  ‘Yes, that will be the light shining on the crucifix above the Church. Look, there!’ Andy said, turning her around and pointing back at the church.

  ‘Now I see it. How beautiful,’ she said, gazing at the Cross.

  ‘You can see all three lights from miles away. It’s like a homing beacon for the locals.’

  ‘Mais oui.’

  ‘Apparently the cross was first illuminated in 1953 to mark the Queen’s Coronation and now it’s a personal memorial to somebody or other,’ he added, relaying some history that he’d read in the local magazine.

  As they approached the end of the tarmac section suddenly they were startled by a loud ‘HOOOOOOOONNNNNK’ as a noisy chorus from several geese announced their presence. The feathered burglar alarm fortunately was the other side of the fence.

  Nadine grabbed Andy’s arm, frightened by the sudden noise.

  ‘Noisy creatures aren’t they?’ Andy said, loudly, over the continued honking.

  ‘Oh zey made me jump. Oh excusez,’ she said, letting go of his arm.

  ‘That’s OK,’ Andy said, flattered by her embrace. ‘They make good guards don’t they? I guess you need some form of alarm living up here. It’s the only house on the hill.’

  ‘Where to go now? She asked, peering around, keen to move away from the feathered noise machines. ‘The road it ‘as stopped.’

  ‘It’s opposite that low level building, the one with the large satellite dishes on the roof.’ He pointed.

  ‘Mais oui, I see it. I ‘ope it’s not muddy. These eels aren’t zee best for scrabbling up footpaths.’

  ‘No, I think you’ll be alright. The ground is frozen, although it might be a bit slippery. Would you like to hold my hand while we go up this short slope to the top?’

  ‘Merci,’ she said, proffering her gloved hand demurely.

  Her fingers felt childlike in his big hand. ‘This must be like shaking hands with royalty,’ he thought bizarrely, trying not to scrunch them as he led her up the track.

  ‘Mind that bit,’ he cautioned. ‘The sun obviously doesn’t reach there; it’s still got frost on it.’

  After climbing ten yards up the frozen rutted track; the pair emerged from tree cover to arrive at the top of the hill with an unrestricted view of the surrounding hills and valleys.

  Marking the summit of the five hundred and ten foot hill was a large waist high Cotswold stone plinth, on top of which was a stainless steel topograph, erected to commemorate the Millennium. Close by, two small benches had been provided for tired sight-seers.

  At their feet, the hill fell sharply away. Winter naked trees and bushes cloaked the slopes either side of a flight of muddy wooden steps that descended to another small hillock. Beyond, they could see frost covered fields which lay in jumbled disorder, like discarded bed sheets. A small landscaped lake, frozen by nature’s cold breath, sat by the side of a busy bypass.

  All around them, they could see a panorama of darkening hills and valleys, a necklace of orange lights shining brightly from an artificial ski slope on the side of a large hill, a few miles distant.

  There were headlights of cars circumnavigating the winding roads of the Cotswold escarpment, sending semaphore signals, as the vehicles plunged up and down into hidden valleys.

  ‘We’re in time. Look! The sun is just going down.’ Andy said, satisfied that their trip was going to be fruitful. ‘Can you see that lighter patch, to the right of the hill?’

  ‘Where?’ she said, following his gaze.

  ‘Over there in the distance, Andy said, pointing. ‘It’s the River Severn as it meanders its way to the sea.’

  ‘What is that over there? Nadine said, shifting her gaze further round. ‘The hill is rounded, like a ladies…how you say? Bosom…why it even has a nipple.’ She giggled nervously, embarrassed at her own observation.

  ‘I’ve never thought of it like that, but now you come to say, I agree with your description,’ he chuckled. That’s May Hill. What you refer to as the nipple, is in fact a small cluster of a hundred trees crowning the top. Legend has it, that nature kills off any attempt to plant anymore.’

  ‘Incroyable!’

  ‘Look the sun is setting,’ he said, turning their focus back to their mission.

  The sun was starting to dip behind the grey erratic line of the distant Forest of Dean hills. The red disc already missing a large section at its base, the sky suffused with myriad hues of blazing orange.

  ‘Geoffery would have loved it. C’est manifique,’ she said. ‘Just like when he and I used to…used to…stand on the balcony of his penthouse and watch it.’

  Andy could see a rivulet on her cheek, as tears escaped. Her mostly dry eyed composure, at last, penetrated by nostalgic memories.

  ‘I just came to
o late for ‘im didn’t I?’ she said, reaching for a tissue from her handbag. ‘If only I’d…’

  Unable to contain her grief and guilt any longer she dissolved into tears. Her stoic resolve crumbling as the emotional flood gates opened. She buried her face in her gloved hands, creating a mournful noise, her whole body shaking in her distress.

  Andy instinctively put his arms around her and drew her gently to his chest, as he would, for any grieving relative at the hospice.

  ‘It’s OK. Let it all out,’ he instructed to the crown of her beautifully coiffured head. ‘You’ll feel better after you’ve had a cry.’

  ‘I am zorry,’ she sobbed. ‘You must think terrible things of me for leaving ‘im when he was so ill.’

  ‘Not at all,’ he said, holding her. ‘We are different, we all have different sensitivities.’

  ‘I just couldn’t get my head around ze changes that occurred in ‘im when he was having ‘is treatment.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ soothed Andy, having heard the same confession from countless partners of patients.

  ‘E was not the same man I fell in love with,’ she continued.

  ‘Look, the sun is disappearing now,’ Andy interrupted her confessions. ‘Say goodbye to him and all your regrets. There’s nothing to be achieved by hanging on to what might have been. Remember the good times you had with him and cherish those special memories.’

  Nadine turned around to watch the sun’s final rays, the sky now leached of colour.

  ‘Would you ‘old me, like he used to?’ she sobbed. And without waiting for a reply, she put her back into his chest and crossing her hands across her stomach, took Andy’s hands in hers.

  Andy felt embarrassed. The sympathetic hug was part of his armoury of consoling the bereaved, but this was something else. Cuddling a beautiful woman he had only just met, in what he’d describe as a lovers clinch was surreal. But he had to admit that it was erotically exciting too. Desperately trying to rationalise what was going on, he tried to calm his rising ardour by reminding himself, that it was just the French way of expressing emotions.

  They stood like this for several minutes gazing at the disappearing orb, when a woman’s voice interrupted their vigil.