Never Can Say Goodbye (39 page)

February fourteenth dawned mild and sunny, with a pearly haze drifting across Kingston Dapple market square.

After the vicious winter, spring had compensated by arriving early in Berkshire.

‘Right,’ Frankie said to Ernie as she zipped round Francesca’s Fabulous Frocks in the early morning sunshine, ‘now you’re
clear about what’s happening today?’

‘I am, duck,’ Ernie said excitedly, looking like a child about to embark for a Disneyland holiday. ‘And I just can’t wait.
Although, I will miss you and our little chats very much. And you’ve been right kind to me.’

‘Stop!’ Frankie held up her hands. ‘Don’t! I will not cry today. Well, not yet anyway. And just think, Ernie, when this is
over today, you’ll have Achsah to chat to for ever and ever, won’t you? You won’t need me.’

Ernie shook his grizzled head. ‘I’ll never forget you, though, duck.’

Frankie swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘And I’ll always
remember you. And I’ll put flowers on your grave regularly and make sure it’s all tidy and everything.’

‘There’s no need.’

‘There’s every need. Right, now we’ve got about half an hour before we need to go, so I’ll just make sure everything’s OK
here for Cherish to take over while I’m, um, at the funeral.’

She stopped. Even she could see it was very, very odd to be discussing the funeral with the person who was being buried.

Ernie chuckled at her confusion. ‘And it’s a right lovely day for me and my Achsah to be reunited, isn’t it? A day for lovers.
Perfect.’

Slo had been rather upset that Tadpole Bridge’s vicar could only offer Valentine’s Day as the earliest date for the interment.
Almost a month after she and Dexter had returned with the paperwork from that very, very weird and emotional day with Thelma
and Louise, and, of course, Cindy.

‘And we’re lucky to get that. It’s because it falls on a week-day this year, duck,’ Slo had explained. ‘If it had been on
a Saturday he’d have had weddings, apparently, and couldn’t have fitted us in, but if you’d rather wait?’

And Frankie had shaken her head. ‘No. Ernie needs to be laid to rest as soon as possible. I still can’t believe we’ve got
to wait that long, actually.’

Slo had nodded. ‘I know it’s a bit of a delay. Vicar runs three parishes, see, duck. Cutbacks, falling congregations. He has
to shuffle his duties. And the soonest he can do an interment at Tadpole Bridge just happens to be February fourteenth. Shall
I take it?’

And Frankie had said yes without hesitation.

She and Dexter had discussed shutting up the shop and the flower stall as a mark of respect, then decided that as no one
else knew about Ernie’s second funeral, and also that as Valentine’s Day was possibly going to be busy for both of them –
Dexter especially – they’d ask Cherish and Brian to hold the respective forts, which, of course, they’d been delighted to
do.

So, with her shop windows filled with red heart-shaped balloons and huge overblown artificial flowers, and as many scarlet,
crimson and ruby frocks as she could find, and with Dexter’s stall simply awash with long-stemmed red roses, Frankie thought
their joint entrepreneurial efforts to celebrate the most romantic day of the year were very successful.

Kingston Dapple marketplace, Frankie thought, gazing through the window, had done St Valentine proud.

‘Afore young Dexter gets here,’ Ernie said, leaning against the 1950s frock rails, ‘and Cherish arrives to take over, can
I just say something before I go?’

‘Of course. Anything. Is there anything that’s worrying you? Have we done something wrong – about today?’

‘No.’ Ernie chuckled. ‘Course not. No, duck, it’s about you and young Dexter. I told you I knew how he felt about you, didn’t
I? And anyone with half an eye could see you felt the same way. And you said it wouldn’t work out because you both had loads
of luggage … ’

‘Baggage.’

‘Ah, that too.’

‘We’ve more or less sorted out our, um, luggage.’ Frankie smiled. ‘We’ve told each other everything. I … well, I think it
might be OK now.’

Ernie beamed at her. ‘And thank the Lord for that, duck. Because, once I’m back with Achsah I won’t be able to see what’s
going on here any more, and I just want to wish you all
the happiness in the world. Take a word of advice. Don’t waste the present because of what happened in the past. Look to the
future – together. And be happy, always. Like me and Achsah. That’s all, duck.’

‘Thank you.’ Frankie sniffed. ‘You’re so lovely. I wish we’d met when you were alive. Oh, now my mascara’s going to run.’

‘Crying already?’ Dexter opened the door and smiled gently at her. ‘That’ll never do. Are you ready to go?’

Frankie nodded. ‘As soon as Cherish gets here.’

‘She won’t be long. She and Brian are just having a cheesy muffin.’

‘Sorry?’

‘For breakfast. In the Greasy Spoon.’

Phew.

Dexter nodded at Ernie. ‘So, today’s the day. This must be the first funeral I’ve ever looked forward to, but I’ll really
miss you.’

‘Ah, me and young Frankie have just been saying all that stuff.’ Ernie nodded his grizzled head. ‘You’ve both been wonderful,
seeing as you didn’t believe in me at first. You’ve been right wonderful.’

Frankie shot a look at Dexter. ‘Don’t cry! Please don’t cry. We’ve just got to hope that it works this time, and Ernie and
Achsah are reunited.’

Dexter nodded. ‘I know there are no guarantees that this funeral will do the trick, Ernie, but I really hope it does.’

‘You couldn’t do any more,’ Ernie said. ‘No one could have done more than you two have done for me. And if it doesn’t work
then it won’t be your fault. You’re both right lovely.’

Frankie sniffed again. ‘Oh, don’t, please, and here’s Cherish on her way. Right, Ernie, for the last time, you vanish now,
please. We’ll go and get in the car and we’ll see you – or rather we won’t – at Tadpole Bridge. And, if this funeral is what
you need to set you free and we don’t ever see you again, then have a really, really happy afterlife.’

‘You too, ducks, you too – once you’ve made the most of this one, mind.’

And Ernie faded away.

‘Not late am I?’ Cherish bustled through the door. ‘Oh, don’t you both look lovely. Like Torvill and Dean.’

Frankie groaned.

Inadvertently, she and Dexter had both opted to wear red today: Dexter with a bright red shirt under his grey suit, and her
with her short cherry-coloured frock and matching tights and boots.

Red – the colour of Valentine’s Day – for love? Definitely. Frankie smiled happily to herself.

Ernie had said he didn’t want anyone to wear black for the interment. Especially after Thelma and Louise had insisted on it
for the first funeral. Funny, Frankie thought, how long ago that seemed. When this was still Rita’s Rent-a-Frock and Biddy
had arrived to hire an outfit for Ernie’s funeral …

So many things had changed since that day, and now they’d come full circle.

‘Right, dears.’ Cherish beamed at them both. ‘Off you go and have a lovely day.’

‘We will,’ Frankie said grabbing her short red coat and her handbag, ‘and thanks, Cherish. For looking after the shop again.’

Cherish flapped her hands. ‘I couldn’t be happier, dears. As you well know. You go off and have some fun. After all –’ she
looked coy ‘– today’s the day for fun, isn’t it?’

‘What the hell did you tell her we were doing?’ Dexter muttered as they hurried round to the marketplace’s service road where
Dexter had parked the Mercedes.

‘Oh, just celebrating the day, you know. I sort of fudged the details. I certainly didn’t mention the funeral.’

‘So she thinks we’re off on some rather debauched jolly, does she?’

‘Mmm, probably.’ Frankie slid into the car. ‘What about Brian?’

‘Oh, I told Brian I was taking you out for a special breakfast that might turn into lunch and dinner.’

‘So we both lied?’

‘Yep.’ Dexter nodded and grinned, as the Mercedes purred out onto the main road. ‘Looks like it.’

‘You look really great in a suit.’ Frankie leaned her head back. ‘Sort of decent and sexy all at the same time.’

‘You just look sexy.’

She smiled to herself. ‘Oh, have you got the flowers?’

‘What flowers?’

She punched him.

‘Yeah, in the boot. Red roses as agreed for Ernie and Achsah, but nothing for you.’

‘No dozen red roses for me? Damn.’

‘Nothing so conventional.’ Dexter reached over and pulled her hand under his on the steering wheel. ‘I wouldn’t dare.’

They travelled in companionable silence for a while, and Frankie looked out at the Berkshire countryside, all covered in a
haze of green and yellow as shoots and buds and leaves started to unfurl.

It was going to be a perfect day for the funeral.

*

Slo was already at the church when they arrived in Tadpole Bridge, standing beside the Daimler, happily smoking a cigarette
in the sunshine.

‘Please don’t put it out on our account.’ Frankie shook her head. ‘We won’t tell anyone. Oh, this is a lovely place.’

Tadpole Bridge’s ancient parish church was tiny and four-square, with mellowed brickwork and zigzagging moss-patched paths.
The churchyard looked like a wild-flower meadow, with gently spreading chestnut trees and tall waving grasses.

‘Have you, um, got everything ready?’ Dexter asked. ‘I mean, um, the grave?’

‘The boys were in early this morning. It’s all been done decent like. As it should be.’

‘But –’ Frankie pulled a face ‘– we won’t be able to actually, er, see anything, will we?’

‘Bless you, no. The grave’s been opened up and a nice sheet of artificial turf laid over Achsah’s coffin. We’ll just pop Ernie
in beside her, like he wanted and cover it all over again, temporary for now and properly later. There’ll be nothing to disturb
you, duck.’

‘Oh, wow!’ Lilly, wearing a vivid clash of yellow and orange, clattered up the church path at that point. ‘This is sooo cool.
What a pretty graveyard. Frankie, when I die make sure I’m buried here, won’t you?’

‘If I’m around in about two hundred years’ time, yes,’ Frankie said, trying not to think of her own mortality. Not when there
was so much to live for now.

‘Oooh, he’s cute.’ Lilly brightened, looking towards the church. ‘Is he another mourner?’

‘He’s the vicar,’ Slo said, hastily stubbing out his cigarette.

‘Really?’ Lilly’s eyes were huge. ‘I didn’t realise they had such young vicars.’

‘Remember Andreas,’ Frankie hissed. ‘Do
not
flirt with the vicar.’

‘I’m not.’ Lilly pouted. ‘And I never think of anyone but Andreas. But he is kind of sweet.’

‘Right,’ Slo said as he and the vicar shook hands. ‘I think we’re ready to go. After you, Reverend.’

The vicar, who, Frankie noticed, was wearing jeans and boots beneath his cassock, smiled in a gentle and suitably sad manner,
and led them through the waving grass and ancient skew-whiff headstones to the far side of the churchyard. Slo followed, his
head bowed, carrying Ernie’s ashes in a maroon casket.

Dexter held Frankie’s hand tightly. ‘OK?’

She nodded. ‘I think so. I mean, yes, I’m happy for Ernie, but there’s still an air of … well, just remembering that everyone
here was like us once.’

‘That’s why we mustn’t waste a minute of it,’ Dexter said softly. ‘And we won’t, I promise you.’

They reached the grave. Everywhere was silent, there was nothing but the gentle rustling of the grass and the distant non-stop
hum of the traffic on the A34.

The headstone, slightly crooked and with faded lettering, just gave Achsah’s name and the date of her death and the words
Beloved Wife of Ernie. Until We’re Together Again
. And there was a space for Ernie’s details to be added.

Frankie pushed her hand against her mouth and Dexter hugged her.

‘We’ll get the headstone done with Ernie’s name as soon as we can.’ His voice wobbled slightly. ‘Then it’ll be exactly what
they wanted.’

The vicar cleared his throat. ‘This isn’t a religious service as you know, so I’m not going to say anything very much, just
that it’s a privilege to be here today to be able to finally lay the mortal remains of Ernest Yardley to rest with his wife.’

Slo stepped forwards with the casket.

‘They’re not going to open the coffin are they?’ Lilly asked in horror. ‘I can’t look.’

‘No,’ the vicar assured her. ‘That would involve an exhumation order.’

‘Would it?’ Lilly blinked her emerald eyelashes at him. ‘Fancy.’

Frankie nudged her sharply.

The vicar took the casket from Slo and stepped forwards. ‘Please stop. It’s not right,’ Frankie said suddenly. ‘He’s not here.’

‘Sorry?’ The vicar frowned at her. ‘Are we missing another mourner?’

‘No.’ Frankie shook her head. ‘No, but … look, please, can you just wait a moment.’

‘Well, yes.’ The vicar nodded. ‘But I’m not sure what we’re waiting for.’

Frankie dragged Dexter to one side. ‘Ernie’s not here! I
know
he’s not here. This won’t work. It’ll just be the same as before.’

‘Frankie, you’re just letting all this emotion get to you.’

‘No, I’m not. I know when Ernie’s around. I know him so well by now. I can feel him. And he’s not here. He’s still at the
shop. I know he is.’

Dexter sighed. ‘OK, I believe you … I think … but we were so sure this was what he wanted. That this would work. Please don’t
say that we’ve gone through all this, and it isn’t what he needs to let him be reunited with Achsah.’

‘It’s the haunting thing that’s wrong – again.’ Frankie frowned. ‘Ernie haunted the shop because—’

‘Of Achsah’s wedding dress,’ Dexter finished. ‘Of course. We haven’t got the dress!’

Frankie stumbled across the uneven grass again and looked apologetically at the vicar. ‘We’ve … um … forgotten something.
Can you give us, er, about half an hour?’

‘Oh dear.’ The vicar looked touchy. ‘Well, I’m not sure. I’m very busy and—’

‘Oh, go on, please,’ Lilly fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly. ‘If Frankie says she needs something then she does. She wouldn’t
mess you around. And it’s such a lovely day and this is such a pretty place. You could show me round the church.’