Dark Secrets (40 page)

“
You okay?” David
slid into the car, closing the door on a roll of
thunder.

I cleared my throat
and looked out the window. “I’m fine.”

“
You haven’t
eaten.”

“
I’m fine,” I
muttered—just to shut him up.

“
You know, you
could’ve said no.” He started the engine. “I didn’t force you to
come in my car.”

“
You could’ve said
no, too.”

“
Your dad asked me.
What was I supposed to say?”

“
Hmph.” I refolded my
arms for good measure and glared at my parents as we pulled down
the drive.

By the time the church
came into focus on the distant horizon, the silence in the car had
evolved into a big fat cloud of tension. I just wanted to hurry up
and get there, but David was driving much more carefully and a hell
of a lot slower than ever before.

When the car
finally
pulled up in a
parking space, my door swung open, David offering his hand before I
even saw him pull the key from the ignition.

“
God! Don’t do
that!”

“
What?” He looked
ultimately confused.

“
You keep popping
up—like, way too fast.”

“
Ara, I didn’t. I
swear. You must have blacked out, sweetheart—”

“
Don’t call me that!”
Ignoring his offer of assistance, I grabbed the doorframe and
hoisted my dizzy self from the car, taking inconspicuously deep
breaths to steady the ringing in my ears.

“
Ara, are you okay?”
His hand hovered near my waist. “You’re really pale.”

“
I’m fine,” I said,
scowling at him.

“
You’re not fine.” He
stood taller, dropping his hand. “Would you like me to take you
home?”

For a moment, my gaze
lingered between the church and freedom, but Emily caught my eye
and waved softly. I waved back and shut the car door. “No. Then
everyone will wonder why the new girl suddenly disappeared from a
funeral—questions would follow.”

David laughed a
little, wiping the amusement from his face quickly when he looked
at mine. “I’m sorry. Um—shall we go in?”

“
Lead the way,” I
offered, and walked slowly behind him, in no rush to be stuck in
that dreary red-bricked building.

“
Mr Knight.” The
priest by the door shook David’s hand. “Lovely to see you
again.”

“
You too, Father.”
David turned to a short, portly woman in a black tunic then, and
kissed both her cheeks.

“
Thank you for
coming, David.” She reached up and stroked his face. “My Nathan
would be so proud to see you all here.”

“
He was a good boy.”
David squeezed her hand.

She smiled, her pudgy
face tight with sorrow. “And who do we have here?”

“
This—” David stepped
back and placed his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “Is Ara
Thompson.”

Her eyes went from
David to me, widening. “My dear child. How sweet of you to
come.”

I smiled softly; there
wasn’t much I could say.

“
You’re so much like
your mother,” she said, taking my hand in her moist, plump grip.
“And is your father far behind?”

I gave a quick glance
into the parking lot. “He’ll be here any minute.”

She nodded, patting my
hand. “Well, I’ll see you both after the ceremony.”

“
You will.” David
kissed her cheek again and stepped across the threshold of the
church, smiling as he made the sign of the cross over his
body.

I dipped my fingers in
the holy water by the door, too, and did the same. “This isn’t the
time to smile, David.”

He dropped his
private, glittering grin. “Sorry. I was…remembering
something.”

“
What?”

“
Private
joke.”

“
Same old David,” I
scoffed, turning away a little too quickly. The walls grew taller
around me, seeming to reach miles up into the sky, gathering a
deathly chill from the outer atmosphere and sending it down here,
to my world, making my stomach churn. A hint of smoke from singed
candles wafted around the room, bringing my mind back to the last
time I set foot in a church; the light faded from each
stained-glass depiction of Bible stories lining the walls, making
the coloured images grey and blurred—revealing faces from the past;
my mum, Harry, even my grandpa all stared out at me, though their
spirits did not linger here, within these walls. I closed my eyes
for a second and shut everything out—the muffled sobs and whispers,
the dreary organ music and the sound of paper rustling on the
wooden backs of chairs.

David grabbed my arm
and gently steered me to the edge of the pew, sliding in next to
me, pushing me further up to allow room for more people. I wrapped
my fingers around the back of the seat in front of me, taking slow,
deep breaths until the bile pinching my tongue eased
off.

“
Mint?” he offered; I
grabbed one from the tiny tin and popped it in my mouth, refusing
to look at him. “You’re welcome,” he said smugly and stuffed them
back in his pocket.

Then, the priest
began, as did the incessant kneeling and standing. After communion,
I knelt beside David and opened one eye to watch him. He seemed
intent on his prayer; his eyes closed tight, lips moving
fast—speaking in tongues. Okay, so, not in tongues, but something
that sounded remarkably like Latin. He never mentioned religion
before. I didn’t even know he was Catholic and did not know he
spoke Latin. But why not; he spoke French? Then, so did Mike—but
that was different, because his mum was French, so he grew up with
it.

“
Focus, Ara,” David
whispered quietly.

I turned my head,
closed my eyes, and continued the Hail Mary I’d started, just as
everyone around us shuffled in their places and began to sit back
in the pews. David reached across and helped me up gently by my
arm.

I glared at him,
jerking away. “I can get myself up, thank you.”

“
Sorry.” He
swallowed, rubbing the left side of his chest as he looked to the
front. When his hand dropped back into his lap, I studied the fine
lines in his knuckles, the squared tips of his nails and the curl
of his fingers, imagining mine wound through them, until he folded
his arms, readjusting his seat.

I sat back then and
listened to the eulogies given by Nathan’s family and friends; each
person passed by his coffin afterward and dropped a rose inside. I
closed my eyes; from all the way up the back, I couldn’t see Nathan
in that box unless I angled my face the right way. Mum and Harry
had closed caskets. I don’t think I’d have coped with seeing their
faces, so still, so devoid of life. Just seeing Harry’s tiny coffin
beside Mum’s was enough to haunt me forever. It seemed funny how,
no matter how big you thought someone was in life, when you lay
them down, with six sides wrapping them tightly, they just look so
small. It wasn’t right to see a coffin that small.

David moved his hand
onto mine and squeezed firmly. “Just don’t think about it,
Ara.”

I turned my head to
look at him; he kept his eyes forward.

“
Nathan was, and will
always be a well-respected and much loved friend.” I tuned in to
the voice of Emily, standing up at the front, reading from a stack
of palm cards. “He was there to give advice or a quick word of
encouragement to anyone—be they a jock, a chess geek, a cheer girl,
or even a kid he didn’t know.

“
Nathan was the guy
we all expected to see graduate with honours, make the national
football league, marry the prom queen.” Emily smiled then, looking
down. “Death is sad in any case, but when it comes so suddenly and
takes the life of someone who had so much to offer the world, who
never had the chance, it truly is tragic.” She stepped down and
placed the cards inside the casket. “We’ll all miss you, Nathe.
Rest in peace.”

David’s hand tightened
on mine, and a single cool drop fell between our palms; I looked up
and saw him nodding, breathing out slowly through parted
lips.

“
David?”

He sniffed and shook
his head, wiping a line of moisture from his chin.

“
It’s okay,” I said,
squeezing his hand back.

The grey sky opened up
as we stepped outside the church, and the cool breeze eased the
trapping tension of my own sorrows—sorrows I had no right to bring
with me to the farewell of another. Small droplets of rain began to
sprinkle over the black hearse while David and a group of boys from
the football team carried the pine box and slid it into the
back.

“
You okay, honey?”
Dad whispered in my ear.

“
Mm-hm.” I
nodded.

“
You look
pale.”

“
I could take her
home?” David offered quietly, popping up beside me.

“
I’m fine,” I
scolded, moving swiftly away to stand among the crowd.

David walked by the
hearse with the other pallbearers, leading the procession line
through the church gates and into the cemetery. Each headstone we
passed displayed names, dates, flowers, some even pictures of those
who laid beneath—every little detail showing the life they once
belonged to. I closed my eyes and let the darkness narrow me in,
the sobs of huddled mourners around me guiding my blind footsteps
until a hand grabbed my arm. My eyes flashed open to David’s face.
“Don’t walk with your eyes closed,” he said, “It’s
dangerous.”

Hmph!
I tucked my cold, shaking hands into my elbows,
and David walked away—back to his place beside the black car. When
a loud grumble rolled across the darkening sky, everyone looked
up—squinting against the white sun until a cloud shadowed its
glare. Icy patters of rain came down again, and little black
umbrellas popped up all around me. I folded over ever so slightly,
remembering how the uninvited rain ruined my last chance to
farewell my family—how it blinded me, made me so cold and so wet I
had to fight with myself to stay. I hoped it wouldn’t do the same
to Nathan’s family.

“
Are you okay, dear?”
A skeletally-haggard old lady reached her hand toward
me.

I nodded, taking a
step away when a long, firm arm scooped my waist and pulled me
under the shelter of a black canopy. “She’s fine.” David’s silky
voice hummed through the top of my head. “She’s with
me.”

“
Okay.” The old lady
smiled at David, but when she looked at me, her eyes
narrowed.

“
Aren’t you supposed
to be up front?” I asked, craning my neck to look up at
him.

He winked at me, a
smile warming his face. “I thought you might need some
shelter.”

I pushed his arm from
around my waist. “I was fine. I don’t need
you
to shelter me.” Only I did—so,
so badly it hurt just to stand this close to him.

“
Oh, um. I’m sorry.”
He placed the umbrella in my hand, squeezing my fingers around the
handle before stepping back into the rain.

“
Wait, David—” I
reached out, but he strolled away too quickly, disappearing into
the mist as the congregation dispersed suddenly, forming a
semi-circle around a hole in the ground.

I scanned the crowd
for my dad or Vicki, finding them beside the priest.

The rain came down
harder then, making my ears feel blocked with its noisy pattering.
Droplets of cold water splashed up onto my shoes, wetting my toes,
while we stood around and waited for the boys to position the pine
box above the ground.

The priest readied
himself, straightening the cloth over his shoulders while an altar
boy tipped and swayed, standing on his toes to keep an umbrella
over the man. “Friends and family—”

The rain stopped
abruptly and all eyes cast to the heavens for a moment as umbrellas
closed, like flowers at dusk, all around me. I leaned the umbrella
David gave me against a nearby headstone and folded my arms over my
chest.

As the priest began
again, Dad wrapped his arm around Mrs Rossi and cast a quick glance
at me; I smiled reassuringly. On the outside, I knew I looked
strong, but inside, my heart was pouring like the rain passed, and
my arms felt weak, like the blood was too thick to pump smoothly
through my veins. The pressure of all the grieving people was
starting to penetrate my emotional wall, and when I looked at
Nathan’s mother—crying her heart out for her only child—the memory
of Harry came flooding back to the surface with vengeance. My
hunger gave way to the green ogre, making my chest quiver as I
fought to suppress the grief. But it was just no good—all I saw was
myself, in place of Mrs Rossi. I remembered how much it hurt to say
goodbye. I knew what she felt, knew I couldn’t help her, because
nothing anyone said would ever make the pain go away.

The repressed grief
burst out of me like an uncontrolled gust of rain-laced wind; I
folded over a little more, shaking, and thunder cracked overhead, a
flash of lightning giving the coffin a white glow—the last light it
would ever see. Looking up through swelling tears, I focused on the
tall, familiar man standing near the priest with his hands clasped
in front of him.