Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   standard categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


Finding Your Way Back. Chapter four (standard:drama, 6159 words) [4/6] show all parts
Author: CyranoAdded: May 26 2009Views/Reads: 2036/1522Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
James prepares for the funeral. He would need support to get through the next few days.
 



He could not remember making the journey home. It was not uncommon for
James to drive along the motorway without proper awareness and then 
suddenly realize that he was about to miss an exit.  He snapped out of 
his trance only as he approached the house, walked wearily into the 
hallway, through to the kitchen. It was like a re-enactment of the 
Marie Celeste, pans on the hob, serving dishes alongside, empty plates 
and serving spoons standing ready on the worktop. Inside the oven the 
meat and the potato bake lay shriveled and unappetizing. He closed the 
oven door and walked through to the family room. The table was 
beautifully set, glasses of wine half drunk and a shaft of sunlight 
poured onto a small colorful flower arrangement. James looked around 
and then collapsed into his favorite red leather armchair. She looked 
down on him from over the mantelpiece, smiling and unblinking. He 
closed his eyes and thought of her and peace and calm enveloped him. 

The tranquility was shattered by the sound of small footsteps clattering
noisily across the hallway. 

‘Gagga, Gagga, its me, Nora, I've come to see you Gagga.' 

James had barely time to come to his senses and rise from his chair
before his grand daughter leapt into his arms and put her small hands 
around his neck. He had no time to speak before she continued. 

‘Daddy and Mummy have come to see you, Gagga. We've been driving all
night,' she explained dramatically and waved both hands. ‘And Mummy's 
been crying all the way.' 

She continued as though taking him into her strictest confidence.
‘Gamma's died, Gagga. Gamma has poorly head. Gamma gone to heaven.' 

All James could say was, ‘Oh, is that so?' 

‘Yes,' she said, nodding her tiny head. 

Penny entered the room, arms outstretched, her eyes red and swollen. 

‘Oh Daddy.' She fell into his arms and sobbed uncontrollably. 

Over the course of the morning the house filled with people. Frank and
Wilma arrived within minutes. He greeted them with an embrace and a 
tear in the hall and thanked them for coming round so promptly. 

An uncomfortable aura permeated the house. James was asked to tell the
same story. It was brief and there was no embellishment and the 
conclusion was finite. People wanted to be with him, to express their 
feelings and he was grateful for their support, but he found it 
difficult to speak and would have preferred to be alone with his 
thoughts. 

Frank and Wilma busied themselves tidying up the remains of the dinner
party. Wilma made tea and coffee and the other ladies seized the 
opportunity to be of assistance and to do something to occupy their 
minds. The men sat in small groups and spoke in hushed tones: the 
weather, football, the stock market, or whatever else. James looked 
around at them all, his friends, dear friends, trying in their own way 
to come to terms with the tragedy while he struggled to suppress the 
anguish he was feeling inside. 

The piping voice of Nora took his eyes to the window. She was her
playing joyfully with a football on the lawn making uncoordinated and 
enthusiastic attempts to kick the ball to her father. Without expending 
energy or thought, Grant kept her busily occupied as she raced around 
him. He welcomed the fresh air, the opportunity to be with his daughter 
and to be away from the visitors and the need to converse. It brought 
back memories of both his parent's recent and tragic deaths in a motor 
accident. He felt better alone with his daughter, her constant demands 
he could deal with and still retain the capacity to think of other 
things. 

‘Daddy,' Penny touched his arm, ‘have you told them in Ireland yet?' 
The shake of his head signified he had not. ‘No, I'll go and do it 
now.' He pulled himself up from the chair and went to use the phone in 
the bedroom. He needed privacy. He was calm and in control of his 
feelings, but he knew this would be difficult to maintain when they 


Click here to read the rest of this story (573 more lines)




This is part 4 of a total of 6 parts.
previous part show all parts next part


Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Cyrano has 99 active stories on this site.
Profile for Cyrano, incl. all stories
Email: Kelly_Shaw2001@yahoo.com

stories in "drama"   |   all stories by "Cyrano"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy