Only trying to forget about Alex wasnât nearly as easy as forgetting about Marcia.
Alex laughed, breaking the tension, holding up his hand to stop me.
âYou donât need to explain.â He stirred his spoon around in his mug, tracing a trail through the creamy topping on his coffee, an action that was surprisingly distracting in its sensuousness. âI think Arthur would have been pleased with his send-off today, donât you?â
âOh yes, it was a wonderful tribute.â
Alex was thoughtful for a moment.
âFunerals always make you consider your own mortality, and that of your family and friends, donât they? I mean, weâre all going that direction one day.â
âI know.â I shrugged. âMust admit I couldnât help thinking about my mum and nan back there. Itâs the hymns, they always touch me deep down inside.â
âOh, Iâm sorry,â said Alex, reaching over for my hand, his fingers interlocking with mine, genuine concern in his eyes. âI didnât realise youâd lost your mum.â
âYeah, it was about eight years ago now and then my nan died a couple of years later. It was a difficult time, but in the end you just have to move on with your life. Somehow. You never do forget those people whoâve played such an important part in your life though.â
It was what everyone had told me at the time when I said I wasnât sure how I would ever get by without my mum at my side. I didnât believe them then when they told me I would. That I had to. That it was what Mum would have wanted. It was only now I was really beginning to appreciate that.
âOf course. Puts everything into perspective, doesnât it? And makes you realise that all those clichés spouted about life being too short are absolutely true. We definitely need to be making the most of the time we have here as none of us know how long weâve got.â
I looked across at Alex. He still had his hand on mine, but it didnât feel awkward in any way. It felt perfectly natural, and a huge comfort too.
âHopefully a little longer for both of us,â I said, with a wry smile. âEnough time at least for me to finish my cake.â I dug my fork into the smooth mousse centre of the coffee and walnut slice and popped its gooey deliciousness into my mouth.
Alex looked at me indulgently. We were definitely bonding over the shared delights of the cake.
âIf I died today, Iâm not sure how many people would turn up for my funeral.â He tilted his chin upwards and narrowed his eyes, as though calculating the potential guests. âMaybe sixty if I was lucky. There must have been about three hundred at Arthurâs service. A reflection on what a great man he was and what a full and varied life he led.â
âYes.â I screwed up my face to do the same calculation. âWell, if itâs any consolation I think there might only be about thirty people at my funeral so youâre way ahead of me in the popularity stakes.â
Actually, it was a pretty depressing thought now he came to mention it.
âYou know what we should do.â He lifted my hand in his, a big smile on his face. âStart planning for our own funerals now. Widen our social circles, get more involved in the community, have a huge extended family, just so as we can be guaranteed a good turnout at our funerals.â
I laughed.
âWhy are we even talking about this?â I asked, laughing. I really didnât want to be thinking that far ahead. Looking to a future only six months or a year ahead was scary enough. I snatched my hand away from his, my fingers tingled from his touch.
He sat back in his seat, his eyes shining with mischievous intent.
âIt is good to see you though, Jen. First a wedding and now a funeral, we seem to be making a habit of meeting at these big life-event occasions. Maybe next time we should do something a bit