And now what?

Chapter 1 The Funeral

The sky darkened ominously, in the distance a low rumble of thunder could be heard, rain was coming. Grace could hear the priest's voice but not make out his words, she could hear the thunder but not connect it to impending rain, she felt her children, Annabelle and Luke standing next to her but couldn't bring herself to turn and look at them or even hold their hands. She could feel the looks from so many people standing around the grave, all dressed in somber dark clothes looking pitifully at her children.

All Grace could see, hear, feel were the small noises from the bearers lowering her husband into the cold, dark ground.

This was all so very wrong on so many levels. Gregory was a happy, lively man. Full of energy and a strong will to live. He loved his family, relished being at home and jealously guarded his family time. He had promised her that they would be together forever, that he would never leave her. He had promised that they would live until old age, they would joke about going into a nursing home together.

But he had lied. He had left her. Why o why had he gone out to save that boy. We didn't know him, he had nothing to do with us. Gregory had heard a noise outside our window and gone out to investigate. He had come across a few youths kicking a younger boy, he had fallen to the ground and they were kicking him mercilessly.

'Stop! leave him alone' Grace could remember his shouts as he approached the small group. The three lads stopped for a second and looked up at Gregory running the short distance towards them,

'Oh look, a little hero' they had teased, 'you want some of this to?' the larger one had shouted.

Grace remembered the feeling of absolute terror as she looked out from the front room window, listening to their taunts, she had the phone to her ear, 'police, police' she yelled down the line, 'come quickly, some boys are trying to kill my husband'

Or at least she thinks that's what she said. At this point everything became a blurr. She remembered seeing her husband trying to help the poor boy to his feet but just as he got up the three men jumped at Gregory and started hitting and kicking him. By the time the police sirens were heard it was too late. The younger boy was sat huddled on the ground crying, the three lads had run off, and my beautiful Gregory was laying in a heap on the floor covered in blood.

She knelt next to him stroking his bloodied face, crying and whispering that everything would be alright, but it wasn't. They rushed him to the hospital but he died during the night.

Grace looked on as the coffin disappeared into the hole. That was that. Her life was over. These last two weeks had gone in a blurr. Her children were hurting, she instinctively knew that, but hadn't been able to reach out to them. They had all grieved in their own way. She knew she would have to start to try and rebuild their life, but not yet, not just yet.

People were coming to her, guiding her towards the car and back home. Back to that empty house. Now full of grieving people.

Why had he done that, why had he saved the boy.

As she entered the car something instinctively made her look up, over by the corner of the grave she saw the young boy and his mother. They had attended the funeral. Of course everyone believed Gregory was a hero. Some hero, he had left me and our children behind. What about us. What were we supposed to do?

The boy and his mother looked sadly across at me, I got into the car. Luke and Annabelle had also been taken to the car and were now getting into the other side.

We squashed up a little and in silence made our way to the house and reception.

As we arrived at the house we could see that most of the mourners had arrived before us. The caterers were busy attending the guests, ensuring that everyone had a drink and food, they were all huddled in little groups in the house, over the front porch, along the side of the house and out back in the main garden.

Did we really have so many friends, so many people.

As the car came to a halt outside our beautiful detached, Edwardian house, Annabelle lead Luke out of the car and towards the front door. Grace hoovered behind, unable to cope. Annabelle looked behind her

'Mum, are you OK? you have to come in and greet everyone, they want to pass their condolences'

'Sure, of course, I'm fine' came the reply. Annabelle looked dubiously at her mother, then took her brother's hand and slowly walked toward the house and the crowd of people.

Grace followed her children. Dread filling each footstep, 'I can do this' she muttered to herself, ' I can do this.'

(to be continued)