The Perfect Girl to Bring to a Funeral

By Jacqui Wiley

"Are you going to the funeral Tom?"

"No Timmy, I didn’t know the deceased that well and I have an appointment. I’ll just put a condolence on R.I.P. Bring Mary; she’s the perfect girl to bring to a funeral."

"Why’s that, Tom?"

"You’ll see for yourself."

I rang Mary, she didn’t have to be asked twice; she must know Mrs Henry as well as I do, maybe better.

"Pick me up at 11.30am," she said.

"The funeral is at 12pm, Mary, we’ll be late."

"Don’t worry about that, we’ll be grand."

I picked Mary up two hours later. She jumped into the car dressed in black from head to toe. She looked stunning. She brushed her long blonde hair over her shoulder with a gentle swish of her hand. I made a note to myself to thank Tom for suggesting her for company.

"Do you know if there’re caterers or is it a hotel do?" she asked.

"What? How would I know?" I answered in bewilderment, "Did you know Mrs Henry well?"

"No not really, I used to come across her at gatherings over the years. You had to be quick to the sausage rolls when Mrs Henry was around," she winked and laughed.

"What sort of gatherings?" I asked, thinking of the eighty plus Mrs Henry stuffing her face and her handbag with sausage rolls. I shook the image from my mind.

"Funerals, of course! The best kind. You can socialise, find out gossip and get fed all in one place. No presents, hair do, make-up or false tan required. And the best thing is…" she points at her outfit from head to toe, "One outfit fits every occasion, Way better than any wedding."

"So, you are only going for the grub! Would you have gone if I hadn’t asked you?"

"Of course, I would, but I was delighted when you asked, because, with you driving, I can now have a drink. I reckon she’d be a sweet sherry kind of gal, what do you think? I’m sure they’ll push the boat out anyway. The family was away for years. They were seasonal visitors, birthdays and Christmas, so the guilt will be on them."

My mouth fell; she knew more about Mrs Henry than I did. I tried to remember if I ever saw her with any family. No, not that I could recollect and I only lived a mile down the road.

"How do you know so much about Mrs Henry?" I asked.

"I, my dear Timmy, do my research, that’s what chatting at these events is all about."

The car parked, we made our way into the church and after the ceremony ended, we were invited to sympathise with the family. We got in line. As we got nearer the top of the aisle, approaching Mrs Henry’s family, Mary’s tears began to flow.

"I can’t believe she’s gone," she announced, as she took the first family member’s hand. "The world will be a darker place without her presence," she sobbed.

It came to my turn and I opened my mouth but no words would come. I was stunned by Mary’s performance. I cleared my throat and managed a low, "Sorry for your loss."

Joining Mary again outside the church she announced, "Great news Timmy, it’s a sit-down meal in the Annebrook Hotel and I’ve just wrangled an invite for two!"

Tom was right. Mary is the perfect girl to bring to a funeral.

• Jacqui Wiley is a member of Inklings Writing Group, who meet on Tuesdays at 10.30am in the Annebrook House Hotel.