Revelations Read online

Revelations

  James Eddy

  Copyright 2013 James Eddy

  Bewilder

  Heart over Head over Heels

  Bonfire Blues

  Lily Green

  The Devil eats Coleslaw

  Fading Polaroids in Reverse

  The Graveyard

  Hello, Emptiness

  The Ghosts Are Out Tonight

  In Dreams

  Diamonds

  Cover by lightfoot c/o Morguefile, Lauren Bathurst

  Publishers Notes

  Disclaimer

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Manufactured in the United Kingdom.

  Revelations

  The clouds gathered for the funeral but the downpour never came. Instead, it hung in the air, over the heads of friends and family, gathered together in the monochrome daylight. The guilty and innocent standing with some that hadn’t even known the girl at the centre of it all.

  After passing shattered glass spider-webs that clung to the headstones, they had all stepped over puddles on the path that took them to the doors of the church. The faces, no matter how unfamiliar, were reversed in the dirty water that failed to reflect why any of them were there that day.

  All that was in the eyes of the majority had been honest sadness. There was no laughing and joking that morning. There could be no relief and no celebration of a fruitful life lived to a natural conclusion. That had never been an option. Instead, the end of the girl’s life was more like a full stop three words into an incomplete sentence; just clues to everything that had not yet been revealed.

  Cameras flashed outside, as such an occasion apparently demanded. At that point, it was just a semi-celebrity, human interest story. That was the only reason why those cameras stayed outside. In time though, the words attached to the day would travel far beyond that graveyard.

  Lily Green and Rebecca Blake walked to the front row of pews. No music played. The small, unassuming church was full of the perfume of roses that lined the walls, covering the musky dampness that was usually in the air.

  Lily had dressed in black, as both the occasion and her heart demanded. Understandably though, while both she and Rebecca looked immaculate, neither of them looked well. They were both thinner than for many years, and with an unmistakable strain visible in their eyes. Silently, they sat down next to each other.

  Two minutes later Lily's ex-husband, Harry, and the 'Second Mrs Fitzgerald', joined them. Lily looked up at Harry but said nothing and barely glanced at his relatively recent bride.

  What Lily had found in the previous few weeks was that while the world had kept turning, it wasn’t the same anymore. And far worse than that, she knew it never would be again. For a while, she had seen her daughter everywhere she looked. It was both comforting and horrific to her. When this had eventually stopped though, she’d found that she felt no better.

  The morning of the funeral had been different. She had looked into the mirror and saw something she hadn’t noticed before. Within the features of her face, Diane had returned. It was only as she peered into the looking glass, that she realised the end to their resemblance would only occur with the passage of time. As Lily’s looks faded, Diane's beauty would only be reinforced by the years and the rose-tinting of memory.

  Sitting on the uncomfortable, hard wooden pew, Lily felt the urge to dream it all away. It was impossible. She closed her eyes and slowly opened them again to look back at the procession leading into the church. Everyone was dressed in black as they marched inside. Tapping out rhythmic tones with their soles and heels upon the age-worn stone aisle.

  Despite knowing them all, each face soon became an indiscriminate blur. Then she noticed John Marshall walking next to Scott Drake and Joe Holly. He was clean shaven and wearing a black suit and tie; with a white shirt that stood out like the rays of the early morning sun in comparison. He glanced at her and offered a brief, supportive smile that meant more to her than a thousand words ever could.

  He sat down between Joe and Scott; still on the margins; just close enough to offer support and far enough away not make him too much of a distraction. Lily turned to face the front of the church again and her fingers stroked the silver crucifix at her throat. Her touch was gentle but still couldn’t compare to the wondrous caresses she and John had known in the five months they had been a couple.

  She silently chastised herself because part of her wanted to feel those touches then. Even if it was just as a way to forget everything else, it didn’t seem appropriate. She tried to turn her thoughts towards her niece instead.

  Her eyes followed her mind to the young woman sitting beside her. She watched Rebecca look back at Scott Drake, sitting four rows behind them. He was hunched forward, trying to conceal himself from everything. Eventually, he looked up and his eyes met Rebecca’s. In an instant, his face changed as a sigh left his lungs and a relieved smile appeared.

  Lily looked away, first at John again and then at the boy sitting between him and Scott. Joe was almost unrecognisable from the boy that had been her daughter’s boyfriend. In his black suit and tie and with his hair neatly combed, he stared straight out into the space in front of him.

  Lily looked around the church for Colin Abbott, who had helped the boy get ready that morning. She couldn’t see him and was soon distracted by the distinctive rhythm tapped out by Simone Green’s shiny black heels. There was urgency in her walk. And she was soberly dressed, although her hair was rather wild and had become entangled in the bag hanging down from her right shoulder.

  The biggest surprise to Lily was that Simone didn’t seem to have brought a man with her. She also thought her younger sister had rarely looked better than she did that day.

  Simone quietly shuffled along the row behind Lily and Rebecca. She briefly leaned forward to whisper into Rebecca’s ear. Offering a few words of support as she clutched her daughter’s hand.

  Simone sat back and as Lily looked around and past her again, she smiled and closed her eyes. Lily understood it as a gesture of sweetness. The warmth it generated didn’t last long.

  She saw Joseph Holly again and the truth and sadness of the situation returned. John and Scott were both trying to keep his spirits up but she knew there was little they could do.

  In the days leading up to the funeral, Joe had clearly taken some comfort from knowing he wasn’t as alone as he’d thought. That day was different though, and when he’d arrived at the church that morning he’d decided not to fight his sadness. That would be what the rest of his life was for.

  When the service eventually began, it soon proved to be unnecessary. No words were needed; no well-intentioned vicar’s platitudes, no readings, no eulogies. Lily, Joe, Rebecca, Scott and John were all aware of what was important that day. And yet, they all remained completely unaware of the revelation that was still to come.

  It was something that had nothing to do with the known facts of the accident that had taken Diane’s life. It didn’t relate to the poor woman driving the car that hit her, who, along with Joe, had done all she could to save her. It didn’t even relate to the simple twist of fate that had ultimately caused her death. The car had been moving so slowly that her injuries had been caused by her own momentum knocking her into another parked car. Her head had hit the metal and then the concrete floor as she fell.

  The truth waiting to be revealed was hidden in the pages of the diary that barely peeped out of the jacket pocket of Joe’s suit. The cover would feel the boy’s touch every hour of every day in the six weeks that followed. It was only
then that he decided to return it to where he thought it truly belonged.

  The autumn sun was shining into Diane's bedroom when he placed the diary back onto the bedside table. Turning away, his right hand touched the locket hanging from his neck. He felt the smooth contours that would always mean so much to him and took a deep breath. The sweetly bitter undertone of Diane's perfume was no longer in the room. He knew it was time to let go. With a last lingering look at the room and at the diary, Joe carefully closed the door behind him.

  Dust gathered, particle upon particle on the black laminate cover of the diary. It didn’t take long to accumulate and so, when it was handled again seven days later, Rebecca had to lightly brush it down with her hand. The house had remained quite full since the funeral but Rebecca had felt increasingly alone. More than anything she was missing Diane. And