Chapter 28
The funeral of Jackpot took place four days after his death, on Thursday at the Church of the Blessed Virgin. Lew shut up shop at lunchtime because he insisted that he and Bonnie should both be there. Bonnie brought black clothes to work to change into. Jackpot’s wife was a devout Catholic who had organised a sombre pomp and ceremony service with no modern fripperies such as dressing in bright colours; everyone attended in their darkest finery. Four black-plumed, black horses pulled the carriage bearing his huge black coffin covered in an explosion of white lilies. His widow and daughter were in black, his daughter, tall and wide like Jack, in floods of tears being supported by her new husband. In contrast, Jack’s small, bony wife Dolores was dry-eyed and hard-faced. It was the first time Bonnie had ever seen Jack’s wife and she was surprised at his type. She didn’t look a match for Jack, though they’d been together for over thirty years. That’s twice in one week that I’ve failed to pair the right wife with the husband, Bonnie thought. Mrs Pitt strode regally into the church and the huge procession of mourners followed.
Lew walked in behind Bonnie thinking how pale she looked in black. Even the rich brown of her hair looked as if it had lost its vibrancy today. He had never seen her wearing black before; the colour swallowed her up, sapped all the life and energy from her.
Bonnie’s eyes were leaking tears which she soaked up with a store of tissues. He had the handkerchief which she had returned, washed and pressed, in his pocket, ready to hand to her if she needed it.
Valerie waved at them both to sit next to her. Her eyes were dry but she reached for Bonnie’s hand to draw badly-needed comfort from it. Valerie’s fingers were frozen to the bone.
The ceremony was hymn-heavy and Bonnie noted that Lew didn’t mime them, as so many did, but had a rich, deep singing voice. At the other side of her Valerie’s voice rang out like a tuneful bell and she sang the words as if she meant every one of them. Only on the last lines of the final hymn did Bonnie hear her falter.
Be still, my soul; when change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.
After heartbroken eulogies from his daughter Mandy and his craggy-faced weeping brother, Keith the younger, which filled the room with emotion, Jack’s coffin was solemnly lowered into his grave. Then everyone trooped across the road to Jack’s local, the George and Dragon, where corsets were loosened and the mood was much more relaxed and convivial. Whereas the service had been about mourning Jack’s death, the wake was all about celebrating Jack’s life. Trays of drinks awaited guests and a buffet that took up four long tables. Through one of the windows, Bonnie noticed that Valerie had taken herself off and was sitting alone on a wall, smoking. Bonnie gathered a plate of finger-food for her and walked outside to deliver it. As she neared Valerie, she was surprised to see how aged and tired she looked in the sunlight.
‘Hello, love,’ said Valerie, blowing out a plume of smoke and tapping the ash off the end of her cigarette with a long finger.
‘I brought you some sandwiches,’ said Bonnie.
‘I’m not hungry, darling. But thank you. You eat them,’ said Valerie, smiling politely though her usually bright blue eyes were dull today. ‘Come and sit on the wall and keep me company. I don’t want to go in there.’ She pointed her cigarette in the direction of the pub.
Bonnie put the plate down on a nearby table and shooed a fly away just before it landed on the square of quiche.
‘Do you know why Jack’s dad called his lion Leo?’ asked Valerie eventually in her beautiful, vintage BBC announcer’s voice.
‘No idea,’ said Bonnie, preparing to be enlightened.
‘He called it Leo after my mother,’ said Valerie, pulling smoke into her lungs. ‘My mother had the most beautiful red hair and Keith Pitt used to say that she looked like a lion. Her name was Elsie but he called her Leo. He was in love with my mother.’
‘Really?’
Valerie looked straight ahead, though she could feel Bonnie’s eyes trained on her face.
‘My father was a bastard, Bonnie. A real, hard, nasty bastard and my mother was going to leave him for Keith Pitt. But she caught TB and it killed her before she could. Keith was never the same man after that. When he got that lion, he called it after my mother because he was convinced she’d come back to him in it. That lion loved him so much. It was as tame as a kitten with him. And that’s why he was heartbroken when it died. It felt like he’d lost her all over again.’
Bonnie noticed that a stray tear was dropping down Valerie’s cheek. She let it weave down her face, unhindered.
‘My family’s fate is entwined with the Pitt family’s,’ smiled Valerie, crushing the light from the cigarette butt on the wall. ‘I fell in love with Jack when we were at school.’
‘Did you?’ asked Bonnie, never realising she and Jack went back so far.
‘And Jack fell in love with me. We were going to be married.’
The tear was joined by another.
‘I didn’t know you went out with each other,’ said Bonnie.
‘Not many did. But we fell out and I did a stupid thing and kissed someone else, knowing it would drive him mad with jealousy. Jack was so angry . . .’ Valerie reached into the pocket of her long black jacket for another menthol cigarette. ‘So he slept with someone to get back at me. Once. And she got pregnant.’ She gave a mirthless chuckle. ‘Oh the daft games people play that have such dire consequences.’
‘God . . .’ gasped Bonnie for the want of anything better to say, though she felt that Valerie just needed to hear something, anything to know she was being listened to.
‘She’s in there now, feeding her fucking rosary through her ever-so-Catholic fingers and pretending she’s above us all,’ Valerie lit the cigarette so elegantly she made it look like an artform, ‘. . . but she couldn’t drop her knickers fast enough for him back then. And he had to marry her because it was so Jack to do the right thing,’ she snarled. ‘But he never stopped loving me, did you know that, Bon? He married that dried-up twig but it was me he wanted and he never stopped wanting me.’ More tears joined the ones that were now dropping off Valerie’s chin onto her black silk skirt where they spread into sad blossoms.
‘Oh Val. I’m so sorry.’
‘He wouldn’t have left her whilst Mandy was growing up. He adored his daughter. Then Mandy had all sorts of problems that some girls have, throwing up and dieting and he said he couldn’t leave whilst she was ill . . .’
Bonnie’s eyebrows creased in confusion. ‘You mean that you still . . . were together all the time he was married?’
‘Oh yes,’ nodded Valerie. ‘We never stopped being lovers. He didn’t get anything from her. He only stayed for Mandy. She gave him a reason for being, but I gave him a reason to live. I loved him with my whole heart.’ Bonnie handed her a tissue and Valerie thanked her and blew her nose on it. ‘Anyway, Jack said that as soon as he’d seen Mandy down the aisle, that was it. He was leaving Dolores and coming to me. He was going to tell her on Sunday. The day he died. He’d ordered white roses to be delivered to me the next day, the first morning we would wake up together as a proper couple again. This is one of them.’ She reached into her bag and pulled out a white rose, now limp and crushed. ‘I wanted to throw this into his grave but I didn’t dare. He always bought me white roses. I have his roses, Bonnie. They arrived on Monday morning with his card that said “Val, my love, my life for always.” But I don’t have him.’
She pulled smoke out of the cigarette as if it were oxygen and she needed it to breathe.
‘Oh Valerie,’ Bonnie spoke softly. ‘Did Dolores know he was leaving her?’
‘Not a chance,’ huffed Valerie. ‘She wouldn’t have let me within ten miles of that church if she’d known there was anything going on between us. No one knew. No one. And I’ll have to keep it secret forever now, because what’s the point in saying anything? I’d hurt Mandy for no reason and Jack won’t be waiting for me up there if I do that because he’d be furious.’ Her shoulders slumped and she sobbed, then immediately recovered.
Bonnie tried to put her arm around Valerie but she pushed her away.
‘Don’t, Bonnie, darling. Because I’ll disintegrate. This cigarette is the only thing holding me together. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for burdening you with this. We both have been carrying a lot of secret baggage, I suspect, but I wanted . . . had to tell someone that it was my Jack that got buried today. Mine. He was mine, all mine.’ Her voice dissolved, her lips were quivering with grief.
‘I understand, Valerie.’ Bonnie flicked a tear from her own eye. She noticed that little flies were all over the plate of buffet food now.
‘We thought we had time,’ said Valerie, her throat thick with emotion. She took a long draw of her cigarette, dabbed her cheeks with the back of her hand, then she looked Bonnie straight in the eye. ‘Promise me that you’ll take your chances when you can, Bon. Grab them with both hands and run with them and don’t wait. I know you aren’t happy in your life and you should be. Don’t end up like me. Promise me,’ she insisted.
‘I promise you, Valerie,’ said Bonnie. And she meant it.
‘Now, go on and leave me for a bit. I want to think and remember. There’s a good girl.’
Bonnie nodded and gave Valerie’s arm the briefest touch, yet it carried all the weight of her affection before she walked back towards the pub. Starstruck was getting some air by the door. It was weird seeing him in a suit, his usual wild hair greased back, the top pushed forward into a quiff as if he were a Teddy Boy. She smiled at him.
‘All right, Starstruck?’
‘Yes love, are you?’
He caught her arm just as she passed him.
‘Bonnie, love, it’s not the time nor the place I know, but our Alison’s house is up for rent again if your friend’s still interested. Bloody tenants did a moonlight—’
‘Yes, she is, it’s me.’ Bonnie heard the words come out of her mouth before she’d even planned to say them. ‘I’ll take the house, Starstruck. I’ll rent it.’