The darkness deepens

The interment was a simple affair. Far less lavish than the funeral itself.

Only Jane and her sister were present.

How ironic this all seemed, especially given recent times.

The drizzle crept under her coat collar and made its slithering course down her back.

Had the weather changed? Her childhood memories were of long hot sunny days. Short bright winter days with cold nipping at exposed skin. Now, it seemed endlessly grey. And endlessly wet. A trick of ageing perhaps?

As the ashes were scattered a smile caught Jane. Thank goodness there had never been a chance to change the will. Had she been serious about her intention to, "demand burial at sea, just to annoy you all"? It would have been just like her.

She was always out to get a reaction. How often had she upset people with her directness? With her tendency of saying exactly the wrong thing at the wrong moment? Always shocked or affronted when challenged, offering her standard reply.

"If you can’t be a shining example, you'd better be a terrible warning!". The accompanying wan smile followed rapidly by an apology, as her nerve faltered.

Deep down she had always been sensitive. Jane knew this, though few others had been afforded the privilege of witnessing her vulnerability. She had retained her pride and dignity to the last. Even during the rapid deterioration in the last few weeks, she maintained as much control and composure as the pain would permit.

And so, it was done.

The end of an era.

The passing of the stoic Jane had called mother.

Time lost its grip on her in that moment of deep realisation.

When she caught up with the step of the seconds, the march of the minutes, she realised she was alone. Jane vaguely remembered the celebrant and her sister speaking to her as they left. Squinting through the haze of the drizzle she thought she spotted them sheltering under the yews at the edge of the cemetery.

Pulling herself out of her reverie she made towards them. She was soaked and chilled to the bone.

As she drew nearer, she wiped her glasses on her gloved hand. In that moment she realised that it was not her sister under the yews. It was a stranger, their features blurred by the haze of the rain.

Making to turn away she heard her name called. Quietly, but clearly, “Jane”. Had they been waiting there the entire time? She felt a little unnerved.

Summoning up more bravado than she felt, she turned and smiled at the stranger.

The shadowy figure held out a little black book. "I am instructed to give you this and", handing over a manila envelope, " this...".

The envelope was pristine. The copperplate writing instantly recognisable.

She cradled the book between her palms. A heady combination of Sandalwood and Chanel caught her off guard. My god, the book even smelled of her!

The envelope was full of money. What on earth? Was this a repayment of a debt, a pay-off, a bribe?

His hand shot forward as she went to open the book.

"NO!" Adjusting his tone, apparently shocked at his own outburst.

"No, not here". Pleading?

She returned a slight nod. The book felt as precious as one of the ancient relics. She tucked it deeply into her shoulder bag. This cheap leatherette would afford it at least a little protection against the increasing rain.

"Read it when you get home. She explains everything. It'll help you understand. And then? Well..."

He paused. Was that a tear on his face?

"Then you'll know what the money is for."

And without another word, he walked away.