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The organ clunked and wheezed into life； and she got to her feet with everybody else。 She caught a glimpse of the backs of Niamh and Siobhan’s red…gold heads； they were exactly the age she had been when Darshan had been taken from them。 Parminder experienced a rush of tenderness； and an awful ache； and a confused desire to hold them and to tell them that she knew； she knew； she understood …
Morning has broken； like the first morning …
Gavin could hear a shrill treble from along the row： Barry’s younger son’s voice had not yet broken。 He knew that Declan had chosen the hymn。 That was another of the ghastly details of the service that Mary had chosen to share with him。
He was finding the funeral an even worse ordeal than he had expected。 He thought it might have been better with a wooden coffin； he had had an awful； visceral awareness of Barry’s body inside that light wickerwork case； the physical weight of him was shocking。 All those placently staring people； as he walked up the aisle； did they not understand what he was actually carrying？
Then had e the ghastly moment when he had realized that nobody had saved him a place； and that he would have to walk all the way back again while everybody stared； and hide among the standees at the back … but instead he had been forced to sit in the first pew； horribly exposed。 It was like being in the front seat of a rollercoaster； bearing the brunt of every awful twist and lurch。
Sitting there； mere feet from Siobhan’s sunflower； its head as big as a saucepan lid； in the middle of a big burst of yellow freesias and daylilies； he actually wished that Kay had e with him； he could not believe it； but there it was。 He would have been consoled by the presence of somebody who was on his side； somebody simply to keep him a seat。 He had not considered what a sad bastard he might look； turning up alone。
The hymn ended。 Barry’s older brother walked to the front to speak。 Gavin did not know how he could bear to do it； with Barry’s corpse lying right in front of him beneath the sunflower （grown from seed； over months）； nor how Mary could sit so quietly； with her head bowed； apparently looking at the hands clasped in her lap。 Gavin tried； actively； to provide his own interior interference； so as to dilute the impact of the eulogy。
He’s going to tell the story about Barry meeting Mary； once he’s got past this kid stuff … happy childhood； high jinks； yeah； yeah … e on； move it along …
They would have to put Barry back in the car； and drive all the way to Yarvil to bury him in the cemetery there； because the tiny graveyard of St Michael and All Saints had been declared full twenty years previously。 Gavin imagined lowering the wickerwork coffin into the grave under the eyes of this crowd。 Carrying it in and out of the church would be nothing pared to that …
One of the twins was crying。 Out of the corner of his eye； Gavin saw Mary reach out a hand to hold her daughter’s。
Let’s get on with it； for fuck’s sake。 Please。
‘I think it’s fair to say that Barry always knew his own mind；’ Barry’s brother was saying hoarsely。 He had got a few laughs with tales of Barry’s scrapes in childhood。 The strain in his voice was palpable。 ‘He was twenty…four when we went off on my stag weekend to Liverpool。 First night there； we leave the campsite and go off to the pub； and there behind the bar is the landlord’s student daughter； a beautiful blonde； helping out on a Saturday night。 Barry spent the whole night propping up the bar； chatting her up； getting her into trouble with her dad and pretending he didn’t know who the rowdy lot in the corner were。’
A weak laugh。 Mary’s head was drooping； both hands were clutching those of the child on either side。
‘He told me that night； back in the tent； that he was going to marry her。 I thought； Hang on； I’m the one who’s supposed to be drunk。’ Another little titter。 ‘Baz made us go back to the same pub the next night。 When we got home； the first thing he did was buy her a postcard and send it to her； telling her he’d be back next weekend。 They were married a year to the day after they met； and I think everyone who knew them would agree that Barry knew a good thing when he saw it。 They went on to have four beautiful children； Fergus； Niamh； Siobhan and Declan …’
Gavin breathed carefully in and out； in and out； trying not to listen； and wondering what on earth his own brother would find to say about him under the same circumstances。 He had not had Barry’s luck； his romantic life did not make a pretty story。 He had never walked into a pub and found the perfect wife standing there； blonde； smiling and ready to serve him a pint。 No； he had had Lisa； who had never seemed to think him up to scratch； seven years of escalating warfare had culminated in a dose of the clap； and then； with barely a break； there had been Kay； clinging to him like an aggressive and threatening barnacle …
But； all the same； he would ring her later； because he didn’t think he would be able to stand going back to his empty cottage after this。 He would be honest； and tell her how horrible and stressful the funeral had been； and that he wished she had e with him。 That would surely deflect any lingering umbrage about their row。 He did not want to be alone tonight。
Two pews back； Colin Wall was sobbing； with small but audible gasps； into a large； wet handkerchief。 Tessa’s hand rested on his thigh； exerting gentle pressure。 She was thinking about Barry； about how she had relied upon him to help her with Colin； of the consolation of shared laughter； of Barry’s boundless generosity of spirit。 She could see him clearly； short and ruddy； jiving with Parminder at their last party； imitating Howard Mollison’s strictures on the Fields； advising Colin tactfully； as only he could have done； to accept Fats’ behaviour as adolescent； rather than sociopathic。
Tessa was scared of what the loss of Barry Fairbrother would mean to the man beside her； scared of how they would manage to acmodate this huge ragged absence； scared that Colin had made a vow to the dead that he could not keep； and that he did not realize how little Mary； to whom he