A Second Spark

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Becca

It had been a week since Rob died. A week where to some extent I’d died myself, inside. Numb was my new middle name. My mum said it was a normal part of grief. Part of denial.

Today was his funeral. I was back in my house, sitting in my living room, dressed in black. I’d always felt funerals weren’t a place for children, but there was no way I was leaving Laurel with anyone else. I needed her close to me. The part of Rob I still had. She looked more like me, but she had Rob’s upturned nose and every so often she’d fix me with a look that was all him.

I'd fallen instantly in love with Rob as soon as we'd met at a blind date at an Indian restaurant set up by my college friend. Rob was her cousin who’d seen a photo of me with her and begged her to set it up. He’d kept me waiting for ten minutes. I’d thought I was being stood up, but then he’d walked through the door and my heart had leapt as he’d apologised and smiled at me. I’d never forget his hand in the small of my back as he took me towards our seats. I’d felt a frisson of excitement that it might lead to his hand on my naked body at some point.

It had led to so much more. Two years of dating, four years of marriage, and a beautiful two-year-old daughter.

And now he was gone and there was a void where my heart had beat for him. The post-mortem had revealed an aneurism. A ticking time bomb in his brain that went off. Nothing anyone could have done.

I looked across at Rob’s mother. She only had Rob. She’d never really been a maternal type and had rarely seen Laurel, yet now she kept talking to me about not losing touch and regular visits to our daughter. I went through the motions, nodding, agreeing, when I wanted to ask where she’d been for the majority of the last two years. But I didn’t. Because I would be dignified, dressed in my smart black dress, with my smart black shoes, while people offered their condolences. I would accept them while not fully acknowledging what they said. Sorry for my loss? What loss?

Deny.

Deny.

Deny.

There would be more of this to endure after the service. When staff from Rob’s school and extended family and friends gathered at his graveside. No cremation for my husband. We’d briefly talked about our burial arrangements when I was pregnant with Laurel, when we’d got all serious and planned our wills. He’d said he wanted somewhere for our future child to visit, if they wanted to. He wanted that option for them. So there would be a service and then there would be a burial.

“The cars have arrived.” My mum stood beside me at one side, Violet at the other, while my dad fussed to make sure the door got locked. There was nothing a burglar could take from me. My whole life was in my arms, and in the coffin in the back of the hearse outside my door. As I left my house, people stood on the street. They’d left their houses to stand with heads bowed as we made our way to the local church. People who had possibly never spoken to us in our lives, today felt the need to let me know they were thinking about us and it meant more than they could ever know. I climbed into the family car. Me and Laurel; Mum and Dad; and Rob’s mum, Paula.

They chattered on, conversing with my daughter’s babble while I stared out of the window watching the expressions of people in the streets as the hearse passed them. Bowed heads, shock, avoidance and quickly turned away heads, indifference to the fact my world had been torn apart. It was all there outside my neighbourhood. Life continuing.

I sat through the service numb while a vicar who’d never met my husband spoke about him. They played hymns that we’d had at our wedding, and I’d chosen the often used Angels by Robbie Williams as the song to play us out.

And then I stood at a graveside on a warm August day and watched them lower Rob’s coffin into the ground.

It hit me at that point. Rob was in there. My husband was in there. He was dead. I would never see him again. I quickly passed Laurel’s hand into my mother's just before my legs gave way. I rubbed the heel of my palm against my chest, because I was sure my heart was shattering. No longer an empty space. I was full of pain. Tears poured down my face and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My father’s arms came around me and I heard him.

“My poor baby girl.” He kissed the top of my head. “It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.” He promised.

The one thing I would remember about the funeral. The thing that stood out as I was leaving to get back in the funeral car. I saw that a few teenagers stood alongside a teacher I recognised from Rob’s school. Two teenage boys and one girl looked at me. The teacher mouthed he was sorry, one boy smiled at me, the other looked away. The girl’s eyes poured with tears. Rob had supported these children. Now they would have to confide in someone new. I felt so sorry for them because they already had difficulties and now they'd suffered the loss of the person supporting them.

From the graveside we travelled to a pub where I'd arranged for a small buffet. I gathered myself together ready to accept more condolences.

“It’ll all be over soon, love, and then we’ll get you back to ours and you can have a nice bath.”

“I want to go back home.” I told my mum. “It’s time. I need to accept what’s happened.”

“Let’s talk about it later.” She said. I knew I wouldn’t get my way. Not tonight at least.

I excused myself to visit the bathroom. Violet approached me on my way there. We might have only been in the early stages of friendship, but something had clicked and I liked her a lot. The fact she lived next door would help me I knew when I eventually returned home.

“You need me for anything?”

I shook my head. “No, but thanks. I’m just off to visit the ladies.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“I’m perfectly capable of having a wee by myself.” I smiled. The first smile I’d had in a long time. Turned out it would be the last smile I’d have for a long time too.

As I waited for the bathroom, the teenage girl from earlier appeared. “Mrs Staveley. Could I speak with you? In private?” I rolled my eyes at Violet. “Sure, honey.” I stood just outside the bathroom door, hoping she’d hurry up with her condolences so I wouldn’t wet myself.

“I’ve tried to come see you at your house, but you weren’t there.”

I frowned. For one thing who'd told her where we lived? “I’ve been staying with my parents.”

She started to cry again.

“I loved him.” She said, her chin wobbling. Oh bless, a schoolgirl crush. It did happen from time to time; they saw Rob as a knight in shining armour because he’d offer them hope.

I put my arms around her. “Oh, honey. We all did… do.”

She pushed me away and this time her eyes were harder and her chin tilted up. “You don’t understand. I loved him and he loved me.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

She placed a hand on her stomach. “And I’m having his baby.” She said.

I didn’t have time for this nonsense. I’d just buried my husband. “Where the f**k is your teacher?” I shouted. Violet came to my side.

“What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is while I’m trying to get through my day, this kid is telling me she’s having my husband’s baby. I need her teacher because I know the children he saw had problems but this is ridiculous. I don’t need this today of all days.”

Violet grabbed the girl’s arm. “Let’s go.”

She shrugged her off. Her chin jutting out some more. “Take your hands off me. I’m not lying." She whipped back around to me. "I was sleeping with him. I’m having his child.”

“Get out.” I screeched, and now we were attracting an audience. My mum came dashing through the door, no doubt alerted by someone from the bathroom queue.

I was done. “The wake is over. Everyone needs to leave.” I continued shouting, as my mum put her arm around me. Violet followed the girl out of the room. She looked over her shoulder at me. “I’ll get Milo to tell people to go home. And I’ll go and talk to this teacher.”

“You can talk all you want.” The girl raised her voice. “It won’t change anything about the baby in my belly.”

“Get me out of here.” I told my mother.

“There’s a back exit. Come on, I’ll get your father to meet us in the car park.” She took her mobile phone from her bag and dialled while I followed her. We were almost at the door when a male voice stopped me.

“Mrs Staveley? Could I just have a quick word?”

The man’s hands were shaking, I noted. He didn’t want to have a conversation with me really, not today, but his job meant he had to. It wasn’t his fault that one of his pupils was a fantasist with a crush.

“Just give me one minute, Mum.” I told her and I took a step forward, nodding at the man. I couldn’t remember his name; all introductions and condolences had swum into one long river of grief.

“I am so, so sorry to have to talk to you about this today of all days. This is the first I’ve heard about all this. If I’d had any inclination, I obviously wouldn’t have brought Zoey here today.”

“It’s fine. But… she said she’d been to my house. Can you have a word with her parents? Make sure she doesn’t do that again. And get her another counsellor. There must be someone who works across the school holidays? She’s obviously seriously troubled.”

The teacher cleared his throat and pulled slightly at his shirt collar and then at his tie. “After I drop them back home, I'll phone the Head, but if Zoey continues to make this accusation then there will have to be an investigation, school holidays or not.”

“For God’s sake. Does she not realise a man just died? That I’m in mourning? I don’t need my time wasting by some stupid teenager who’s making crap up.”

Then Zoey appeared again, one of the boys trying to hold her back. “I’m sorry, Mr Timmins. I told her not to come back.”

“I’m not lying. Get it into your head. We’d been sleeping together from my sixteenth birthday. For six months. I’m having his baby. We were in love.”

“Enough.” My mother yelled. “We’re leaving. Do whatever investigations you need to do and leave my daughter the hell alone.” She raged at Zoey. “My baby just lost her husband. Have you no shame?”

“I lost him too.” She yelled back.

Paula had been at the back listening. She stepped toward Zoey.

“What if she’s telling the truth?” She said to my mum.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” My mother snapped, her eyes scornful.

Paula stepped to the side of Zoey. “Then you’d be shouting at a young girl who’s carrying my grandchild. Another piece of my son.”

“You hardly bother with Laurel so that’s rich.” My mother had clearly had enough of biting her tongue. “We’re going, Becca. Your father is waiting.” She basically pushed me out of the door.

Once in the car I listened as my mum explained everything to my dad, but all I could think was that Rob hadn’t touched me for approximately six months.

What if Zoey wasn’t lying?