Read Give The Devil His Due Online
Authors: H G White
Give The Devil His Due (44 page)
Contrary to all the promises everyone made at the time of the hearing, we hadn't kept in touch that often with the Steadmans. Peter and Louise had held on to the Shoreborough Estate, living in an apartment located in one of the wings. Yes we'd sent each other Christmas cards, but with their lives being so outrageously different from ours, it was a case of ‘never the twain shall meet’. I suppose in that regard, money did change some things.
They didn't have any children. Louise had a sister but none of us had ever met her. There were so many people at the funeral. Peach and Sean were chatting; I could never figure out what it was about funerals. People always seemed to make jokes; it was like they were in denial that it was a tragic event. Human nature, self-preservation, call it what you will, it was the mind trying to protect itself from stress.
The church service was respectful but shorter than I expected. Peter had made sure that the company had maintained its commitments to charity, and if I had to guess, most of the mourners had some connection through different charities supported by the Steadmans.
At the graveside there had been such a mass gathering, we were not really able to get very near. It was better that way. I'm sure there were many who had much closer relationships with Peter and Louise than we did. Proceedings drew to a close. People started to mill away, some making their way home, others to the wake.
As we stood there, Sean walked towards us once again. He was accompanying a woman wearing a veil. Could this be the sister?
Sean introduced us. ‘This is Tamara, Louise's sister.’
The lady removed her veil. Her mascara had run with the tears she’d cried, but running mascara could not hide her mesmerizing beauty.
‘Please call me Tara.’ We nodded our heads waiting for her to continue.
‘Thank you all for coming. We're having some drinks at the estate. If you would like to drop by you'd be most welcome.’
Again we nodded, and thanked her. As she was about to say something else, a boy appeared. He must have been in his early teens; he grabbed Tara's arm.
‘Come on Mum I want to go, we've talked to enough of these people.’
‘Don't be rude Ethan.
These people
have travelled a long way to say goodbye to Aunty Louise and Uncle Peter.’
Watching him, instantly I realised there was something vaguely familiar about this adolescent. I cast my mind back to the portrait of a young man I’d seen in Charles De Villiers’ office, years earlier. The bushy hair, the contemptuous expression. Suddenly, without warning Ethan sneezed and his head shook violently.
‘Come on then mister. We'd better get you indoors before you catch a cold.’ She smiled and they made their way to the chauffeured car waiting to take them home. I looked at Peach, Peach looked at Phil. In fact, we were all looking at each other.
I felt shocked. I wondered if they were thinking along the same lines I was. ‘What do you make of that then?'
Vaughan stroked his chin for a moment. ‘Mmm … if I’m perfectly honest, I think he's a very ill mannered youth.’
‘No, I mean, who does he remind you of?’
‘Well no-one in particular, although I have to say Will, if you’ll excuse my French, that if the truth be known – I thought him to be an ugly little bastard!’
Phil looked at me. ‘Now you come to mention it Vaughan, he does remind me of someone!’
‘Thanks Phil.’ I said.
They laughed, I laughed.
All that burying had made us thirsty. We started to walk to the waiting taxi. It was time to attend Peter’s wake and have the gin and tonic we should have had with him all those years ago.
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