Tangled Branches

Chapter One

The colours black plagued the mouth of the church, mourners soon spread out into smaller clusters. They waited impatiently, complaining the foggy dampness was suffocating the air. It was the funeral of a happily married couple: Mark and Leila Smith; they died in a tragic car collision on the motorway – victims of a drunk driver, leaving behind their only child Jasmine. She was a naïve nineteen year old sheltered from the harsh reality of life by her parents, primarily her mother; not only was she heartbroken by the death of the parents but wracked with guilt. The only reason they were on the motorway was to pick Jasmine up from her workplace after she had had an insignificant meltdown. Hearing relatives and well-wishers express their sympathies of how they were cruelly snatched away only tormented Jasmine even further.

Jasmine knew she wasn’t strong enough to stay for the burial, she could barely make it through the service, so she discreetly slipped out from the back of the church. Before she headed out of the church she peeked from a corner watching the crowd before she made her getaway, she saw handkerchiefs used only as accessories and tears being neatly swabbed - the only tragedy for them was the loss of a generous man with a hefty bank balance. Her face screwed up in disgust as she watched the vultures swap their titbits of gossip, she turned around hastily to get away where she accidentally bumped into an old frail man accidentally knocking his walking stick to the ground.

“I’m so sorry!” Jasmine cried out, bending down on the floor to retrieve the man’s walking stick. “I didn’t see you there.”

“My fault, I shouldn’t have sneaked up on you like that.” A quavering voice replied back. “I just wanted to pay my respects to you in person.”

“Oh. Um, thanks I appreciate it.”

“You probably haven’t heard of me but I’m your father’s uncle.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t really remember him mentioning you.” Jasmine reddened, scrambling through her memories searching for a tiny mention of an uncle from her father but the only relatives he mentioned were her grandparents and the second or third cousins.

“Don’t you worry, I wasn’t very popular in the family. Just wanted to pay my respects.”

“Ah, well, thank you…” Jasmine stuttered.

“Are you leaving already?”

“Uh, yeah I don’t think I can handle another minute of it.”

“I don’t blame you, funerals were never my thing but I was hoping to get to see you.”

Jasmine wasn’t sure how to respond, she had never met this guy or even heard of him yet he was so eager to talk to her, all Jasmine wanted to do was crawl back in bed and cry herself to sleep in the privacy of her own room. Jasmine kept silent hoping it would give the elderly man the hint she wanted to be alone but he lingered like a bad smell.

“I’m scared to face them too.” He said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I'm not scared.” Jasmine snapped. “I'm just sick and tired of keeping up with the charade that those people out there actually care.” Her sudden outburst was out of character for her usual calm and meek demeanour and Jasmine knew it was time to leave. “I'm sorry, I have to go.” Jasmine said apologetically, she dodged the elderly man in front of her as she marched her way towards the gates.

Slumped on a table in the corner of a pub, Jasmine stared into her third gin and tonic, the taste wasn’t as bad as she expected having never drank a drop of alcohol before. She had walked a few yards from the church until her heels starting to dig in, she stopped right outside a pub so taking it as a sign, Jasmine decided to go inside. Inside the pub was a completely different world to what Jasmine was used to: the people, the furnishings, even the atmosphere. This seemed so much more calm and favourable. No matter how much people tried to argue against stereotypes, there was some truth towards them: boundaries were set in place, etiquette compulsory, and a family reputation to uphold - not to mention a high standard set for career ambitions.