Undercover Alice by KT Shears

eulogies painted a picture
of a man so cheerful and vibrant, so kind and generous. Matt stood up and said
a few words, mentioning his sister. I heard her name for the first time, Leila.
I’d have been a blubbering wreck but, although his voice caught in his throat a
few times, he held it together. Annie wept throughout the whole ceremony, and I
felt wretched for her, but I knew she needed to let her emotions out and I held
her hand tightly.
    After the service, we milled out into the pretty
gardens surrounding the crematorium. Annie pulled herself together slightly,
her British sense of duty telling her she had to go and say hello to various
people and thank them for coming. I went over to Matt, who was standing off to
the side, looking into the distance. I touched his arm, and he jerked round.
    ‘Whoops, sorry,’ I said. I’d obviously given him a fright.
    ‘Oh, Alice, thank god. I thought it was Aunt Ethel
again.’ He looked warily over his shoulder, but apparently the danger had
passed.
    ‘How are you holding up?’ I asked. ‘It was a lovely
service. Your father sounded like a wonderful man, and quite similar to you I
think.’
    Matt flushed. It was obviously a huge compliment to
hear himself likened to his father.
    ‘Thanks, he really was a great man. He never really
recovered, you know, from my sister. They were so close. He used to call her
his little cabbage patch.’ He sighed. ‘I’m not religious, you know, but part of
me hopes they’re together somewhere.’
    He sniffed suddenly, and a tear trickled from his
eye. He wiped it away furiously, and I pretended I hadn’t noticed.
    ‘I’m sure they are,’ I said, comfortingly. I wasn’t
religious either, but it was a nice thought. And who knows? ‘Come on, let’s get
this lot rounded up and head back to your mum’s house for the wake.’
    I was incredibly relieved to find the caterer had
done all he said he would. He had arrived just as we were leaving, and we’d
only had a very quick conversation as I ushered him inside to set up. When went
through the door, we were greeted by plates of dainty sandwiches, delicious
cakes, an ad hoc bar area with a range of drinks, and vats of tea and coffee.
Matt took my hand and squeezed and my heart danced in my chest.
    ‘Thank you, this is wonderful. My mum will be so
pleased.’
    Annie had recovered slightly from the funeral, and
spent her time mingling with guests, some of whom she hadn’t seen in years. The
air was thick with laughter as people recalled some of Bertie’s more memorable
moments, and Matt introduced me to a few family members, who wrung my hands
enthusiastically, assuming I was his girlfriend until he or I hastily put them
right.
    The guests began to drift away as the sun set, and,
eventually, it was just the three of us again. The caterers had cleared up the
food and drink, and we sat on the veranda with a glass of wine.
    ‘This was perfect,’ Annie said, smiling across at
us.
    Our outfits had gone down a storm, even Matt’s
‘clown suit’. We were also amazed to find that we weren’t the only ones who had
thought black wasn’t appropriate for Bertie. A good number of mourners had
turned up wearing bright colours, and Annie had become very emotional when we
arrived to a sea of colour.
    ‘Bertie would have had a great time. He always said
he’d like to be a guest at his own funeral.’ She laughed. ‘I’m off to bed,
don’t stay up too late, you two,’ she said, waggling a finger at us in mock
admonishment.
    After she left, Matt and I sat in silence for a
while, sipping our wine and listening to the sound of the birds singing and
insects chirping.
    ‘I wanted –’
    ‘I’m really –’
    We both spoke at the same time, and then both broke
off, laughing.
    ‘You first,’ Matt said.
    ‘I’m really glad to have been a part of this,’ I
said, truthfully. ‘Your mum is an incredible woman, and I would have so liked
to meet your dad.’
    He smiled. ‘I’m glad you were a part