Jack was in awe of the sheer number of cars bringing more and more mourners to Totnes Crematorium. Hundreds of people he’d never even met — from the building trade, from the pub, from Charlie’s Labour Club, from Penny’s bridge club. The driveway was a sea of slow-moving people and vehicles.
Maggie linked her arm through Jack’s plaster cast. His good arm was inside his newly dry-cleaned sergeant’s uniform and his broken arm was in a sling underneath it.
‘Remember when you said your dad wouldn’t be remembered by as many people as Harry Rawlins? I don’t think this lot would agree with you.’
Jack did recall saying it. He’d been looking at news articles from Harry’s funeral; half of London’s gangsters and half of London’s coppers stood shoulder to shoulder. It had been an impressive sight that he thought would never be matched by Charlie. But this was better. Because all of these mourners actually loved Charlie.
Ridley cut an impressive figure as he walked up the driveway in his black suit. Even though he was a good few inches shorter and narrower than Charlie’s tradesmen mates who surrounded him, he stood out as being a man to be reckoned with.
‘Condolences.’ He shook Jack’s hand. ‘The uniform looks good on you. Impressive turnout, your dad was clearly much loved.’
‘Thank you, sir. And thank you for stepping in. The arm’s not healing quick enough and Mum didn’t want strangers doing it.’
‘It’s an honour to be asked, Jack.’ Ridley kissed Maggie on the cheek. ‘It’s been a tough time for you both.’
Five strapping older men, probably in their sixties or even seventies, approached and introduced themselves to Jack and Ridley as the other pallbearers. Maggie took this as her cue to stand by Penny’s side, put her arm tightly round her waist and help her to put one foot in front of the other. That’s all Penny had to do today. Tomorrow would be tackled when it arrived.
Penny was taking deep breaths, trying to maintain dignity in the face of such unimaginable tragedy. But Maggie’s touch immediately broke through all her defences and the tears came.
‘Sorry,’ Maggie whispered. ‘I didn’t mean to make you cry.’
‘Jack looks handsome in his uniform, doesn’t he?’ Penny’s words were barely audible. ‘He was the same as a Scout — uniforms suit him. I was so disappointed when he got kicked out, because they wouldn’t let me keep his smart little shirt.’
‘Why was Jack was kicked out of the Scouts?’ Maggie asked, keen to keep the conversation light.
‘He was a bit on the naughty side. When all the other boys were lining up or sitting in a circle, he’d be off doing his own thing. Not very good with authority, they said. And when he was finally tracked down and the Scoutmaster asked what he’d been up to, he’d come up with some fairy story about playing cops and robbers. Not sure which one he was.’
Penny chattered on, hanging on to the past for dear life because she had no clue how to cope with the present or the future.
‘He lived in a fantasy world at times — “always looking for excitement”, I used to say. More exciting things than we could give him. No surprise to me that he became a policeman.’ She managed a laugh. ‘He could be a little fibber, though. For the first two weeks he was with you, he told us he’d got shift work in a local pub.’ Penny could see that Maggie had taken this the wrong way. ‘Oh — he was never ashamed of you! He wanted to keep you all to himself, Maggie. That’s what it was... Look at him now. My beautiful boy walking beside my beautiful man one last time.’
Music began to play from inside the chapel and Penny’s grip on Maggie’s arm tightened. The five burly men and Ridley stepped up to the back doors of the hearse and formed two lines of three, opposite each other. The funeral director pulled the coffin far enough out for everyone to take up position on either side. Manoeuvring the weighty box up onto everyone’s shoulders was a jittery affair, but they all soon settled. The funeral director then led the way inside. Jack walked directly behind his dad. It took twenty minutes for everyone to file into the crematorium and find their seats. The walls were lined with standing friends, two deep. It was a wonderful sight.
The only person in the room who had no clue who Charlie Warr was was the Humanist celebrant. He started to read the prepared words dictated by Penny and redrafted by Maggie into something that at least sounded spontaneous.
Maggie glanced at Jack. He had his good arm tightly around Penny’s shoulder and he was listening, but there was a distance in his eyes. Maggie gripped his hand and brought him back to them.
‘Be with Charlie,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘You can never do today again, so be here.’
As she spoke, she stroked the back of Jack’s hand to lessen the impact of her words.
And he knew, that although she loved him with all her heart, she wasn’t going to stand for any of his nonsense. Not today.