Jackie looked at the photograph on the mantelpiece and smiled.  It was the only photograph of her wedding.  “My, just look at me.  So long ago.” She turned her attention to her husband.  “He had to borrow that suit.  It just about fitted.  Still, we had a good day, and although we had bad days, I think we had a good marriage.”

     David entered the room.  Most of the family were standing around the room or waiting outside the house.  A few stood in the back garden.   He walked over to the mantelpiece and looked at the photograph and said.  “I remember father telling me he almost missed his wedding due to his car not starting.”

     Jackie nodded as she moved away from the mantelpiece.  “That’s right, but he got it started.”

     David made his way to the chair nearby.  It was where his father use to sit.  It was old and well worn.  It’s leather coveting needed a good waxing.  He sat on the arm of the chair carefully as he did not want to damage the arm.  “Dad’s chair,” he said softly.”

     Jackie frowned at the son and said.  “Don’t sit there.”

     David stood, patted the arm of the chair and walked over to the window.  He stood there for a moment looking as some of his aunts, uncles, cousins and friends of the family who were talking.  “It’s funny how funerals, weddings and baptisms seem to be the only time we gather.”

     Just then the members of the family who were in the garden now entered the living room and spread themselves around the room. 

     “The car should be here soon,” said Jackie.  Just as she said that Richard entered the house.

     “It’s here.”

     David nodded and asked.  “Ready?”  He led the way out of the house.  Once the house was empty, he set the alarm, locked the door and made his way to the limousine to join some of his family.  In front of the limousine is the hearse.  As David sat, the limousine headed slowly away from the house.

     Jackie was sitting in the seats behind the driver.  Her sister, Mary, her son Richard, and Ann a friend of the family sat behind her.  She looked at David and then at Richard and wondered why het sons were not sitting together.  She decided not to worry about is and turned her attention to people passing by.  Life, was going on as normal.  An old man seeing the cortege, stopped walking, faced the cortege, removed his hat and lowered his hat.  “Oh, that was nice,” she whispered.  No one answered.  Too busy with their own thoughts, she thought.

     The journey to the crematorium was slow but not long and as the cars parked close to the crematorium, the atmosphere inside the limousine was less tense now.

     A few minutes passed before everyone was sitting in the chapel and waiting for the service to begin.  During the wait, Jackie looked around and saw a few people sitting at the back rows of seats.  She had no idea who they were but guessed they may be regulars to the chapel and had come to pay their respects to the dead.  Then the service began.

     A few minutes into the service, Jackie began to remember the funeral of Howard, her grandfather, twenty years ago.  You were given such a send-off.  Oh, how we talked about your bad jokes and even laughed at a few we told each other.  You would have enjoyed it.  Her memories took her to the wake, held at the Fox and Hound pub, the favourite drinking place of Howard.  So popular was Howard at the pub that he was allowed to have his own silver pint tankard placed in the shelf above the till.  On the day of his wake, Jackie, her husband Trevor and other adult members of the family used this tankard to have a pint.  That memory of the tankard brought her back to today, and the wake later on.  She made a mental note to make sure she has a pint from the tankard, now back at her house, and raise it to her husband.  He would like that, she thought. 

     It was not long before the service was over and everyone was outside the chapel.  People were talking, but in whispers.  Jackie was standing next to her sons who were talking to their wives.

     “I wonder how long we’ll have to wait before we can go,” said Richard.

     “No idea,” said David.

     “I don’t think we’ll be here long,” said Jackie.

     David looked around.  “I’m glad it’s over.  I never like funerals.”

     “No one does,” said Jackie.  She walked away from her sons and wives to look at the sign at the rear of the chapel as she wanted to get an idea where the Remembrance Garden was so she could visit it.  Having made note of the directions to the gardens, she turned and saw a man walk over to David.  As she approached them, she heard the man speak.  “We’ll arrange to have your father’s ashes scattered in the Remembrance Garden tomorrow.”

     “Thank you,” said David.

     “I’ll go and visit the garden,” said Jackie.

     “We can all go tomorrow,” said Richard.

     “Good,” said Jackie.  “Let’s go.”

     Everyone made their way back to the cars and headed back to Oxford Road.  The atmosphere in the limousine was relaxed.  Everyone was glad the cremation was over and eager to celebrate the life of Trevor.

     Everyone entered the house.  Some made their way to the garden, some made their way to the living room, and some made their way to the lounge.

     David, Richard, their wives, Lauren and Helen, and a few other family members set about getting the food and drinks ready.  While this was taking place, Jackie mad her way upstairs as there was something she wanted to get from the bedroom.  However, she did not go to her room first, instead she went to the far end of the corridor to the bedroom at the rear of the house, which had been David’s room.  It was empty.  She had thought about putting a spare bad in the room in case friends of family wanted to stay but Trevor had told her that they always stayed at a hotel, so it remained empty.  Richard’s room had some boxes in it.  These were clothes and tools that belonged to Trever.  She made a mental note to throw them out.  She had not felt able to do that before, but now the cremation was over, it felt right.  Then she entered her bedroom and stood by the door for a moment.  There was her bed, a double sized bed she shared with Trevor but did not replace.  Above it was a smaller copy of The Battle of Waterloo by William Sadler that Trevor had painted not long after they married.  She often wondered why he never took up painting as a profession instead of becoming a painter and decorator.  Not that his job did not earn him money, but she was sure he would have earned more, as a professional painter.

     Next to the bed is her small table on which is her silver-plated alarm clock.  A present from Trevor for her fiftieth birthday.  Next to the table, in the corner of the room, is a wardrobe.  It once had her and Trevor’s clothing.  She was about to walk over to the wardrobe when she stopped.  “What did I come up here for?”  She asked.  She tried to remember what it was that she wanted.  “Oh, well.”

     Downstairs, people were not partaking in the food and drinks provided.  Those who smoked stood outside the house and those who had brought children had sent them to play in the back garden.

     As David entered the living room, he made his way to Richard.  “Dad would have enjoyed this,” he said.

     “That he would,” said Richard.

     Jackie passed David and Richard and made her way to the table on which some plates of food had been place.  There are similar plates of food in the lounge.  All the food had been prepared and cooked by Richard.  She did not feel like eating right now so made her way to the garden and saw some of the younger children running around.  She smiled.  It reminded her of when David and Richard use to play in the garden.  Those days seemed so long ago.  She heard Lauren and Helen talking as the entered the kitchen.

     “He said there were more bottles in the cellar,” said Lauren.

     “Okay,” said Helen.

     It was David that had arranged for several crates of beer, cider, and stout to be brought to the house along with several bottles of white and red wine, a few bottles of whisky and a few bottles of brandy.  “If any one wants something different,” he said.  “Then they can go to the off-licence around the corner.”

      It was not long before Jackie heard moaning and groaning coming from the cellar as Helen and Lauren returned to the kitchen carrying a create of bottles.  “I’m not doing this again,” Helen complained as she led the way back to the living room.

     Jackie was not happy with either Helen or Lauren.  She believed David and Richard could do better, but they were happy couples, at least they appeared that way.  Still, she thought.  It’s their choice and that is that. 

     As the hours passed, people made their excuses and made their way home.  David made sure he thanked them for coming and Richard, with the help of Lauren and Helen, began to clean up.

     As Jackie watched her sons and daughters-in-law clean up, she noticed someone had drawn the curtains and put the lights on.  Not that it mattered, but she would have liked to have done that herself, after all it was something she always did when it became dark.  “Oh well,” she said.  “At least it’s done.”  She then looked at the clock above the mantelpiece.  Eight o’clock already, she thought.

     “We can leave the rest until tomorrow,” said David as he sat.

     “I’ll call around about ten,” said Richard and sat opposite David.

     “I don’t mind doing it,” said Jackie.

     “We’ll all do it,” said Lauren and sat next to Helen.

     “Good idea,” said Jackie.  She noticed that no one sat in Trevor’s chair.  In fact, she was sure no one had sat it in during the wake.  Not that she minded, Trevor would not have minded but she recognised a sign of respect when she saw it.  She then remembered that she had not drank from the tankard.  She had seen others doing this earlier and though she was disappointed that she had not been the first, she did not want to say anything about it as it might come across as petty.  She turned and reached out to the tankard but she felt, odd and pulled her hand back before she touched it.  She could not describe what this odd feeling was but it disturbed her and thinking it was just the effects of the day, she tried to grab the tankard again, but the feeling came again, stronger this time.  Then she heard a familiar voice.

     “There you are.”

     Jackie did not want to turn.  She was afraid of what she might see.

     “Come on now.”

     Jackie suddenly felt at ease.  She turned and saw Trevor smiling at her.  She did not understand at first.  He was dead.  She looked at the others but they were talking and oblivious to the what was happening to her.  “Trevor?”  She asked.

     “Who else.”

     Jackie looked again at the others.  None of them seemed to have noticed her talking to herself and as she wondered why they were ignoring her, she suddenly realised why.  In that moment, the events of the day came rushing into her mind.  As the events passed, she realised that no one had really responded to her, any responses were directed at others.  She also realised that she had no memory of certain events, like dressing, having breakfast, leaving the house, getting in or out of a car, or entering of leaving the crematorium.  She did remember the walk to the bedroom and now remembered what it was she was looking for, Trevor.  It was not his cremation she attended, but her own.

     The clock on the wall chimed indicating it was eight-fifteen, the exact time Trevor had died three years ago, on this exact day.

     “Come, you’re ready.”  Trevor held out his hand.

     “I’m scared,” said Jackie but the moment she took his hand she felt as ease.  She also felt warm and loved.  She looked at her sons and daughters-in-law and wished they could see her and Trevor.  Then she and Trevor disappeared, surrounded by a light.

     “Hey,” said Lauren.  “It’s time we went home.”

     Richard nodded and said.  “Yep, work tomorrow.”

     Lauren led the way out of the house, followed by Helen, Richard, and David.  He was the one with the key.  As the others returned to Richard’s car, David stood holding the door looking back into the house.  He was reminded of something someone told him.  “No home is ever empty.  It always contains the echoes of those who had lived there.”  He was not sure if he believed that, but just in case he whispered.  “Goodbye mom, goodbye dad.”  He then locked the door and walked away from the house.