Abediah Thornton

Chapter 6 - Saturday

Abediah was in the barn when she heard a car turning on the gravel. She came out after filling Edwin's feed bucket, rubbing her hands on her dungarees. There was a lady climbing out of a shiny silver car. She had thought 'lady' because the woman was in a flowery dress and was wearing heels that were inappropriately high for the gravel drive of the farm. The lady bent into the car to retrieve a handbag that seemed to be twice the size that any sane person might require. On straightening back up again the lady slammed the car door and started looking around the yard. She looked to be in her fifties, a mass of curls bounced around her face and Abediah could see, even from this distance, quite unmissable bright pink lipstick. 'Good Afternoon,' said Abediah, walking towards the woman.

'Ah! Mrs Thornton,' she said, her voice, surprisingly high pitched. She wobbled as her heel hit a stone but she caught the side of the car and righted herself.

'Yes,' she said, 'can I help you?'

The lady was walking towards the concreted path that ran from the front door across the yard to the barn entrance. She was focused completely on placing her feet, arms out, handbag swinging precariously, while she navigated. On reaching the path she seemed to gain some level of confidence and also some height. Abediah approached, not feeling any need to rush towards whatever new madness this woman might be bringing.

'Mrs Thornton,' said the lady in a much stronger, more confident voice. She held out her hand. 'Mrs Stratton, leader of the Choir and Chairwoman of the church,' she announced. Abediah grasped the hand firmly.

'Nice to meet you,' she said with a nod.

'I'm sorry it's in such sad circumstances Mrs Thornton, how are you holding up?' This last part she asked with her head on one side and in a tone Abediah thought would have fit better in a school yard. Abediah powered past the question. As if she was going to share her personal feelings with this absolute stranger!'Would you like to come in Mrs Stratton?''Lovely, thank you Mrs Thornton.'

The two women walked up towards the house. One carefully placing her high-heeled shoes so as to avoid the cow pats, the other marching on in her farm boots.

Inside the house Abediah had the kettle on again, the cookie jar was looking emptier than it had for decades. She seemed to have had more visitors in the last few days than she'd ever had in her life! Mrs Stratton was talking. She had produced, from the enormous bag, several plastic covered folders and laid them out on the kitchen table. They appeared to be colour coded and the contents labelled. Abediah noted, on the purple folder currently open, one label: 'weddings' before the plastic pages were quickly flipped to 'funerals'.

'Of course, you knew him best, Mrs Thornton, so you'll have the best idea of what he would have wanted,' Mrs Stratton was saying. 'We have different options for you. The church of course can be dressed, flowers etc. Or alternatively, with him being a man, you might just want flowers on the casket?' Mrs Stratton's voice rose even higher at the end of her sentence leaving the question hanging in the air.

'Not a big one for flowers, Frank. Keep it simple I think,' Abediah confirmed. 'Perfect,' said Mrs Stratton, her pink nails (painted to match her lips, Abediah noticed) were clasping an equally pink pen and making notes in a notepad that Abediah was slightly worried might be perfumed. 'And the songs...' said Mrs Stratton, pausing to flip one folder closed and slide out another, this one was green. 'Was he more of a choral man, your husband?' she asked, 'or would we be happier sticking to the more traditional nature songs? 'Morning has Broken', that kind of thing?'

She hadn't a clue! Frank had always said he hated church. Did he even know any church songs? She remembered him singing Elvis in the shower sometimes, maybe singing along to a country song on the radio in the barn. Did he even have a favourite song? If he did she didn't know what it was! What on earth was she supposed to say?

Mrs Stratton's manicured hands grasped a tab and flipped. 'Of course, I understand if this is all too much right now Mrs Thornton,' she said, more quietly. She pointed to the page, 'we do have this set of songs we can do. They seem to be the most chosen for funerals. Quite well known songs, mostly those we all did in school, you know.' She pushed the folder across the table.

Abediah's finger traced down the plastic page, reading the outline of a funeral service complete with songs. 'Morning has Broken' was on there along with some others she recognised. Grateful that someone had already done the thinking she confirmed that this was a good choice.

Standing at the kitchen window, teacup in hand, Abediah watched the silver car disappear into the cloud of dust. She sighed deeply and drained the cup. At least that job was finished. Then she put on her boots and headed back out to finish her work.