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They didn’t look upon us strangely. They did not see us at all. For all about the people descended. Slip in. I run up to the loo there I puke. I should have lunch. My face in the glass. Who’s that I don’t know. I do know. That’s shite. But what happens now? Nothing. Don’t obsess.

Come on. Bang the door. Hurry up you know there’s a queue. I flush and wash my hands. Open. His daughter there standing there. She is older than me and my mouth reek of sick. Hi hello there I’m sorry. Didn’t feel that well. I know the feeling. Yeah. It’s all the sandwiches not enough sleep. True. I laugh think Jesus Christ. She goes on in.

By the coffin. You’re sitting. Falling almost asleep I see. I am guilty. Sit by you. Say have a lie down I’ll take your turn with the body. And you do. That gives me time. Catching my breath in the cold. Hello Granda. Now what have you seen?

The biddies are having their sup. He was a grand man. A lovely man. A terrible shame. Loss to the community. Still. It comes to us all in the end. True enough. But he had a good death and what more could you want?

I sat there most hours. Listen to the razzle of it. Watch him duck in and out now then. Give me a nod not a smile not anything else. See his wife. See his wife and she sits by my. There’s a cuppa are you tired you look a bit pale. Nice for one moment but I don’t feel guilty. I think your husband’s tongue was just in my. His daughters, and they’re sorry their grandfather’s dead. I see him hug them and pat them now love, don’t cry pet. Oh Daddy. Daddy they say. I don’t cry. Not even a morsel. Dead and gone why should I? The pound in my throat not for Granda. Our mother snot quietly into her hankie grasp my hand. For I let her. She’s dreading the moment they take him away. I’m not. See uncle moving. In the other room. Think Oh God. Something. Something’s in me going on.

They carried him out in the rain that night. Made room on the sitting room floor for a gaggle. Bang the lid on. We processed to the church. All them carry him on their backs. Sliding coffin though they’d catch it. If it. It didn’t. But he was well rattled still I’d say. I wore my black. Mother mantilla and you your best suit looking solemn. As we cared. We did not. Neither you but still. I looked for him. He took his turn. One place strange for your father-in-law to be. Heavy. I saw sweat roll down his face. They all did. Fat bastard. Too many toffee chews or that. Dinners. For the likes of him. Now Granda. For all your sins.

In the church we were good. Said prayers and settled him down for the night. Corpse. Night Grandfather and we all went back to his house. Eat and drink. I sat with whiskey thought his jam’s in the press. Clapped into the corner and watched him uncle telling jokes for the laugh of them. They like. He comes quite popular up the ranks. His wife does not some reason. Her smoother brown hair. I think she’s. A bitch. But still he married her. That. I don’t know. That’s something. But me and that’s something too. I drink whiskey keeps me going and he gives me my fill. Have a little one. Do not Madam. Ach he says leave her there. And ever acquiesce she to him.

In the morning. Morning mass and the funeral. Parish priest says what they ask. A good man and a sound man and very continent. Carried up into the graveyard and lowered him down. Throw a rose on top. His daughters. More at him than on. Rub their shoulders sons and sons-in-law. He’s buried. Under the muck. The end. Go on there get into your hole. Amen. And. Amen.

We troop back to his kitchen. And more eating more. Eating him house and home. Whose is it? Who knows? Who cares? Not me. But the biddies clustering. Have one of them ham sangwiches love.

So, that aunt wife says she says we’re leaving. Early. Sorry about that. It was the only flight we could get that gets us back in time for work on Monday. Got to get back. Aye. Well now we must meet up again not wait til someone dies the next time. They all neigh and say the same but I go out. Look at me. I must go out of doors. At this. Go on, you knew, I say in my own ear. What did you think would happen? Funeral’s over. Amen and again.

On the beach. On the stones. On the water splash. I’ll hear it go right through me. Now see. Because he’s going away. I knew sure. I knew that. But still. The ocean comes. I’ll put my hands in. I’ll baptise. I like again. That cold running round my knuckles. Catch it just a bit. Don’t you start. And don’t let the ice in. Don’t you dare start now. A stupid fucked-up thing. Walk and walk it. Go on over the rocks. Put the air in your lungs. The fright out. You didn’t want. Took it. But. But but. It’s nothing now. Forget all that was nothing at all.

You’re here he said. I thought you would be. Look you heard my wife. I’m going and. I know you are what do you want me to do? Why do I do that? Don’t do. Shall I not then? No.

He’s worried this. Face closing over with. Look. What? Jesus. I want. I want. You want what? No. He turns and thinks it. Want what? Tell me. He says I can’t do without this. Without you. Again. I want. Have you a number? I’m over often I. Want you again.

I don’t think, I say I don’t think I don’t know what is I don’t what is if this is we should or, you know. So many things things things curling up in my head. Jesus Jesus.

Look. I haven’t got time. Do you hear me? She’s waiting. They’re waiting. Daughters. Yes or no he says. Yes or no.

I look. Flood my eyes. Because this is a long dark thing to do and cannot be undone. Will I? I say inside my mouth. Can I? Do I want? I. Yes. I. And I say. Do you have a pen? Then. Here. Take it down. Because I have no idea what is right. And I know that he smiles. That he stands with his back to the house. And I look at him. And he strokes my face. And he strokes my hair. And he touches my breast. And says. That’s my girl. I’ll see you soon. And back then he to his own.

I’m as sick as I can be in the car back home. I’m as full of all sorts of things as I am. Was. Know that in the bone and race of me I am wrong different from you. Where is that from? Don’t know. Still so nonetheless. I watch. She sniffing at the wheel and you your walkman in your ears. You’d be buzzing all the way home. She says. Come on children now. Let’s offer up a few prayers for the Holy Souls.