Needles and Pearls Read Free Page B

and he spilled his water. But I never do.’
    ‘Archie, just sit properly, please. Do you want your meat cut up?’
    He gives me an outraged look.
    ‘No, I do not. I’m not a baby.’
    ‘Well, eat properly then, please.’
    Elizabeth smiles at him encouragingly.
    ‘There’s jelly and ice cream for boys who eat up all their lunch. Nice clean plates, that’s what Granny likes to see.’
    I think she’s trying to be helpful.
    Archie looks at her.
    ‘And girls too?’
    ‘Sorry, dear?’
    ‘And Beth and Lottie can have ice cream, if they eat up?’
    ‘Yes, dear.’
    He looks at his plate.
    ‘And can you just have ice cream, if you don’t eat all of it?’
    Gerald laughs.
    ‘Good point, my boy, excellent. Negotiate, that’s the thing. Now then, who’s for more wine?’
    ‘Nicholas loved jelly and ice cream when he was little. It was his favourite pudding.’ Elizabeth is looking tearful now, and I don’t think it’s just the horseradish.
    Oh God, here we go.
    ‘Granny, did you know when monkeys want to do sex they wee on all the trees? It was on our programme.’
    Elizabeth chokes slightly, and Lottie starts to giggle.
    ‘Archie, I don’t think that’s a very nice thing to talk about at lunch.’
    ‘Monkeys don’t know it’s not nice.’
    ‘Archie.’
    He sighs.
    ‘I don’t even like jelly.’
    By the time we’re trudging through the field towards the church I’m feeling very close to slapping someone, most probably myself for landing us with a family escort for what should be a quiet moment for the boys. Bloody hell. Elizabeth is seriously sulking now because Gerald said bugger after his fourth glass of wine, and she’s been trying to get me to deliver Grace Harrison as her VIP guest at the next Golf Club dinner, and I’ve had to tell her that I think it’s a bit of a long shot. Fiona’s still trying to recover from the horseradish debacle, and James is having a long conversation about golf, mainly with himself. Everywhere isstill soaking, and my boots keep sinking into the grass, but at least it’s finally stopped raining as we climb over the stile and walk into the churchyard.
    Jack’s holding the letters and pictures in a plastic bag, and starts to go rather pale as we get a few yards away from Nick’s grave. There are yellow tulips in the black marble vase at the bottom of the headstone, and a small bunch of roses.
    Fiona coughs, very quietly.
    ‘The roses are from the girls. We put them there earlier.’
    I nod. I’m not sure I can actually speak just yet; it’s such a shock, seeing the grave again. Jack puts his hand in mine and we move forwards and I bend slightly to put my flowers down, but they don’t look right in their cellophane wrapping – it’s like Interflora have just made a special delivery or something – so I kneel to take them out of the wrapper, getting wet knees in the process. Jack and Archie are now standing on either side of me. They seem much smaller and quieter than usual.
    ‘There, that’s better. You can put your letters on top of the flowers now if you’d like to, and your lovely pictures.’
    They put their folded-up letters and pictures down very carefully, as Elizabeth walks towards us and starts rearranging the tulips.
    ‘Shall we pop into church now and say a little prayer?’
    ‘I think we’d like to just stand here quietly for a minute, if that’s OK. You go ahead, though.’
    Fiona and James head off towards the church with the girls and Gerald, while Elizabeth hesitates.
    ‘I thought a prayer might be nice. Wouldn’t you like to say a prayer for Daddy, Jack?’
    Jack’s starting to look tearful now. Bloody woman.
    ‘Elizabeth, I think we’d like a moment on our own, if that’s all right with you.’
    In other words, bugger off, you old bag.
    I put my arm around Jack and we walk towards the wooden seat under the tree in the corner of the churchyard.
    ‘It’s wet, Mum.’
    ‘I know, love, but it doesn’t matter, we’ve got our coats