Preservation Read Free Page B

the circumstances, he tells them, and coughs discreetly. Their friend has told him that a suitable dress is being brought in. When they hand it to him, he enthuses — the prettiest lying-in dress he has ever seen. Sabrina explains that it is not to be burnt with Leonie; they will hold it for her daughter, who wants to keep it for sentimental reasons. It’s too beautiful to be destroyed, and he says, oh yes, yes, he does understand that, entirely agrees, and it’s not unusual for people to be slipped out of their clothes once the curtain comes down. No trouble at all. Sabrina has the price tag in her wallet, still on its cord.
    They retire for a short decent interval to the waiting room while he dresses Leonie. They sit in deep armchairs and read magazines about royalty and English country homes. ‘Perhaps it’s just as well,’ Elsa says. ‘You can’t imagine Leonie being one of those old ladies with talcum powder hair and clip-ons.’ Her own mother is going that way, her memory not so sharp. ‘Goodness knows what I’ll do with her. I’ve been looking after kids all my life and now it’ll be her I suppose. Not what Ross and I were planning.’ Her face softens. ‘Sorry, Sabby,’ she says. ‘I know you miss your mother. I can’t believe it’s ten years.’
    ‘That was the last time we were all together, do you know that?’ Sabrina says. ‘The three of us, you and me and Jan at Mum’s funeral. I’d forgotten how long it was.’
    The undertaker calls them in. There is Leonie, in a satin-lined casket, her face younger than they remember it, her hair fluffed around her face. The black dress, with its silk ruffles, is settled around her, the peacock’s head made from knotted leather nestled between her breasts, the tail feathers which, except for two or three real ones, are actually little appliqués of felt sewn with sequins, fanned across her knees. Sabrina remembers a moment when a peacock illuminated her life. She and Daniel were on their honeymoon. He had elected to stay in a bush cabin, although shewould have preferred something more glamorous. Daniel liked the outdoors, which sounded charming, but the camp kitchen was basic, the bed hard and the duvet had been used by others. She had woken on their second morning, and crept out of bed while her new husband still slept. But then she had lifted the curtain to see what the day was like outside. On the branch of a tree near the window she saw a peacock. He sat picking at a berry, his splendid shining tail sweeping before her, filling the window frame with colour. In this moment of radiance, Sabrina saw a sign, a promise of happiness, and she hasn’t been disappointed.
    ‘You’ll be here when your friend comes to view her mother?’ the undertaker asks. ‘I understand she’ll be here about five.’
    As one, Sabrina and Elsa shake their heads. They know Jan doesn’t need them here.
    ‘We’ll see her at the funeral,’ they say.
    But Jan isn’t at the funeral, and they aren’t really surprised. Sabrina supposes that, even if she were allowed, Jan wouldn’t want her mother’s friends to see her tethered to a guard. The undertaker has told them that the viewing went very well, and that Jan’s escorts, as he described her guards, had allowed her to stay a long time. She had been able to bring a friend from the prison. They had spent some time with Leonie, then Jan stayed with her for a while by herself. She loved the dress on her mother, said it was exactly right. Sabrina thinks Jan would have said goodbye then; it would have been enough.
    For, after all, it’s not such a great occasion. Twenty or so people attend, hard-bitten older reporters for the most part, and some union people. Eddie makes a lugubrious speech to the effect that Leonie was a great laugh and tough as old boots with a heart of gold and his very good mate. All the old clichés, and bit of cover-up too. His wife, standing in the front pew, is a tiny woman with a nut of a face and