Post by karma on Jun 7, 2006 16:42:30 GMT 1
There was something so strange about today, maybe it was because of the sun on a rainy day but mostly it was because everyone was sad. Normally they would be busy, stressed but a quick word and then the sparkle in her mum’s eyes would come back, and everything would be ok, but today, the spark was gone, Her Dad’s hands were cold and the tears fell as much as the rain.
Avalon rested her head against her auntie’s shoulder. She wasn’t strictly her aunt but that was how she and her older sister always addressed her parent’s friends. Auntie Julia, Uncle Greg it was just how it was done.
Julia moved her arm, wrapping it protectively round the little girl’s shoulders. Sometimes with Avalon you could forget she was only 5, as she often seemed far more grown up. Avalon took after her father, while Bracken, dear sweet Bracken had taken after their mother. She wasn’t even sure that Avalon actually understood what today was about, but then what 5 year old would.
Greg tightened Rico’s tie, despite their tans, from their recent trip to Brazil they were pale. Neither of them had expected the phone call they had received on their holiday, and neither was prepared for the task they had to do now. Rico gently took his hand, letting them gently fall before he placed his forehead on Greg’s.
“We will be strong” he whispered, his accent making the words sound like a lilting melody rather then a command. “Look” he raised his head peering out the window “The car is here”
~*~
Avalon gripped hold of Julia’s hand peering over her shoulder to the four men stood by the car. She slipped into her seat and smiled briefly at the older women beside her, before turning her interest on the flower arrangement in front of her.
~*~
Slowly the coffin was slid out of the Hurst and preciously taken by the four men who had been charged with taking it to its final destination. As gently as they possibly could they pulled the coffin onto their shoulders and began the long march down the church aisle.
Avalon turned in her seat as the rest of the congregation rose. Her father, Uncle Greg and Rico, and the man who was named Marc were doing their best with the white coffin on their shoulders, all attempting to walk in time to the miserable music, all trying not to cry. She tipped her head back as Julia placed her hands around her shoulders, the older woman smiled at her through her tears and tightened her grip, an act that gave more comfort to her rather then Avalon.
The procession came to an end and the coffin was placed on it’s table.
~*~
Ronnie rose from his seat, this was something he never expected to do, and he was not prepared for, the service so far had been a blur and the eulogy that he was about to give did not do her justice. He made his way to the pulpit and opened his hand penned speech.
“Bracken” he stopped his eyes fixing on the wreath that was constructed from his daughter’s name sake “Bracken was a lovely girl, she was bright and full…” he stopped his eyes becoming blurred from his tears and the word vanished in from the paper. “She was…” he tried again.
Avalon tipped her head, watching for the first time that her father was unable to convey how he felt. She tensed her hand, pulling it from Julia’s protective grip and slid off her pew. The Church seemed to rustle with curiosity as she made her way to her father.
Ronnie bent down accepting his youngest into his arms. She stood still accepting his embrace before reaching for her father’s piece of paper. Ronnie watched as she made her way down the steps and walked towards the coffin.
Avalon extended her arm placing the crumpled piece of paper on top of the small white coffin.
“Daddy wrote you a letter Bracken”
~*~
George straightened in her seat, despite where she was for the first time in two weeks she felt a glimmer of happiness. Avalon, continued to speak for the first time since the dreadful accident,, opening her words and letting the words flow out. Avalon finished her conversation with her sister and made her way back to her seat, moving over to her mother and allowing herself to be pulled up onto her crying mother’s lap.
Instinctively she looked through to the back of the church, to the man sat at the back.
“I forgive you” she whispered, Her words lost under the sound of her mother’s sobs.
~*~
The man at the back of the Church bowed his head, unable to look at the girl who was staring at him so intently. His raised his hands to his head, cradling it as the true realisation of what he had actually done came over him. The newspaper article he had clasped strongly in his hands falling to the floor.