Lie, Spy, Don't Die

chapter one - the funeral

It was a cool fall day and the sky was steadily darkening- a storm was coming and the wind was picking up. I was wearing a black dress, black woolen jacket, and a black hat that covered half my face. I didn't really mind the black - on the contrary I love wearing black - but what I did mind was the reason for it. Just three short days ago my last living relative, at least the last one that I knew, died, leaving me alone in the world. My grandmother Margaret was a woman to be reckoned with- she had been spunky and not afraid of anything and I admired that about her.

Even though I'm not usually an emotional person I felt sad and as the priest began to say the final words about my grandmother, preparing to lower her casket into the ground, I felt tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

Don't cry. I thought to myself, biting my tongue. I couldn't show weakness but at the moment that was the only thing that I felt. Usually I was strong and nothing could break through me. This was the last straw- there really was no one left. My parents passed away when I was ten years old and from then on I was raised with my grandmother. Not to say I had a hard life which by no stretch of the word I did. My family was rich beyond belief so I really didn't have very many worries. Until now. I was sixteen, not even an adult. Where would they send me? Who even had control over that?

I stood by myself in the front, being buffeted by the wind. There was a surprising number of people who showed up to her funeral but I only knew a third of them. Our gardener and housekeeper came along with a few of my grandmother's socialite friends who I had seen briefly at social gatherings and dinners. The rest were people with nothing in common except they wore the same impassive expressions and dressed in immaculate, tailored suits or crisp black dresses.

The fact that the people who came up to me to give me their condolences I had only met very briefly if at all made me feel even more alone.

I heard a thud as my grandmother's casket hit the ground. I wasn't even listening to the priest at this point, I was focusing on a dark car that had just pulled up on the road next to the cemetery. A middle-aged man in another tailored dark navy suit stepped out of the car, clicked the keys and then moved down the path, his shiny black shoes slapping quietly against the pavement.

Someone handed me a shovel with a bit of dirt on the end, motioning for me to sprinkle it over the box in the ground.

As I gripped the handle of the shovel firmly I made a promise to myself; that I wouldn't let anyone else that I love die and I would also find whoever did this to my family. After that, my urge to cry went away and my resolution was firm.

After most of the funeral party had returned to the main building to have some lemonade and food I stayed behind, taking shelter underneath a tree. A few men who worked at the cemetery had come over a short while ago to finish covering the grave with soil and then it was complete. I had watched all this with a detached sadness when it began to rain. I ignored it. My mind was elsewhere, re-imagining a childhood that I had taken for granted until it was all gone.

The man who had arrived late came over to me, holding out his umbrella to share. He stood there in silence for a little bit before finally speaking. "You must be Serena."

I nodded. It wasn't hard to tell since I was the only person present who was under the age of thirty and at this point it was common knowledge that Margaret took care of her orphaned granddaughter. I was the heartbreaking story that all the London socialites spoke about when they wanted to appear as though they cared about something other than themselves.

"I knew your grandmother very well. In fact, I have her will."

I looked up. I hadn't even thought about that but now that he mentioned it I wondered how much she would be giving to me but I couldn't trust him yet. "How did you know my grandmother?"