Free Secrets to Keep by Lynda Page Page B

‘We never shunned them, Mrs Nelson. Mam was very fond of the lads we asked, had watched them grow up from babies, and they were fond of her in return. I know she would have wanted them to be given the opportunity of being her pall-bearers, and they’d have been upset if they hadn’t been.’
    Pat pulled a face. ‘Well, to me, family comes first. And as my Arch is married to you,
we
are family.’ She then prodded her fork into a piece of ham on her plate. ‘I see you didn’t bother with ham on the bone then? And I can’t find any tongue …’
    ‘It
is
ham on the bone, Mrs Nelson, only we got the butcher to slice it up for us, for convenience. Mam didn’t like tongue. The food we chose was what she liked.’
    ‘Like she’s here to eat it!’ Pat scoffed. Then added, ‘I was looking forward to that tongue. What butcher did you use?
    ‘The same one Mam always used. Jones.’
    ‘Oh, him,’ Pat snorted. ‘Wouldn’t touch his stuff meself. More gristle and fat than meat, what he serves up. It’s cheap, I suppose, though. You can tell this ham’s cheap, can’t yer? It’s not got much taste. Harry Worth would have seen you right, once you told him I’d sent yer. And it’s a pity you didn’t ask my Jimto get the booze for yer. One of his mates is a drayman. He could have got you three barrels of beer for less than the price you paid for one. If you paid for good sherry as well then you’ve been done. This stuff is barrel that’s been put into bottles.’
    The sherry was certainly not barrel but best Cyprus, and Pat knew that it was. Her unwarranted petty complaints were just because she was fuming she had lost out on her backhanders from the suppliers she had instructed them to use, and besides couldn’t brag to the rest of the mourners that it was she who had arranged it all. It was taking all Aidy’s will-power now not to snatch the plate of food back off Pat,
and
her glass of sherry, and tell her to leave, but she would not cause a scene at her own mother’s wake. Evenly she said, ‘Do excuse me, Mrs Nelson, but I need to thank people for coming.’
    As Aidy was walking away from her she heard Pat say to another mourner: ‘
You off? Oh, ’course, husband’s dinner to get. Well, I must be off meself as soon as I’ve finished me food. Packing to do
…’
    Aidy frowned thoughtfully. Had her in-laws come into money somehow that they could afford a holiday? Pat’s part-time job as a lavatory attendant didn’t pay much and she was always pleading poverty, hoping to make people feel sorry for her and offer her a handout, which she always snatched before their mind was changed. Her lazy husband hadn’t had apaid job for years, due to his supposedly having a bad back from a fall at work, but that didn’t seem to stop him from getting to the pub and back or from operating his side line, dealing in scrap metal. Much to their wives’ chagrin, the three Nelson sons each handed over a pound a week between them to their parents, even though they could not really afford to do so, but at least it ensured Pat and Jim’s rent was paid, with a little left over so they didn’t end up having to live with any of their offspring. Aidy wondered now if Arch or his two brothers knew of their parents’ windfall.
    She felt a hand grab her arm. It was Bertha’s. ‘I was just making my way over to rescue you since it was obvious to me that whatever Pat Nelson was saying to you, it was annoying you.’
    Aidy sighed. ‘Gran, the only complaint she
hasn’t
got about the arrangements we made for Mam’s funeral is that Arch was chief pall-bearer.’ Through the crowd she spotted Arch’s father knocking back a pint next to the table holding the barrel and bottles of sherry. ‘I know for a fact that’s Jim’s fifth. I hope he’s going to have the decency to leave some of the beer for the other men. Anyway, we haven’t to put up with either of them much longer. They’re leaving soon, to do their packing.’
    Bertha