chapter3
Marjorie went about the house in her usual way that afternoon. She was almost used to living alone now and was beginning to find it normal not to have to consider another person's needs. She missed Thomas, naturally they d been together for forty-seven years. It was the silence in the house that had been the strangest at first the absence of another person' presence. The sounds that you don't realise are there, until they're not. Over the last year she had started listening to the radio to fill the space. But now, as she moved about the kitchen, she could hear her children talking together in the living room and she enjoyed the sounds of life that they'd brought back into the house. She knew they d be talking about their grandfather. It was quite extraordinary that the news of his reappearance should come today of all days. But to be honest it wasn't news to Marjorie. She'd had a letter from the authorities about her father six months ago, but she hadn't told anyone. She'd put it to the back of her mind. Now it was here again and it was going to be talked about, and she suddenly felt tired at the thought of it all. There would be all the questions and the paperwork to be faced, not to mention the funeral arrangements. She was glad that she could depend on Clare to sort it all out. Thank goodness for her efficient daughter. She'd always been a good organiser, since childhood, and Marjorie smiled as she remembered Clare at the age of five ordering all her toys in rows according to their size Shall I make us all a cup of tea, Mum?' Clare asked. Yes please, dear,' said Marjorie. "I think there's some cake in the blue tin, too. OK, said Clare, 'You go and sit down, I'll bring it in Marjorie went through to the living room to join Andrew. "How do you feel, Mum, about all this business with your father?" asked Andrew. "It must be a bit of a shock Not really that much, dear, replied his mother. Did you actually know about this before, Mum?" asked Clare coming in with the tea. "The man on the phone said something I can't remember what exactly that made me think Grandfather had been expected. "That's right." And Marjorie explained about the letter she'd received in November. "I know it probably sounds strange, but I'd completely forgotten about it. You know what my memory's like at the moment Clare knew exactly what her mother's memory was like; she also knew that this was not something she would have forgotten. More likely it was something she didn't want to think about "It seems an odd thing to forget,' said Andrew, echoing Clare's thoughts. "But anyway, how do you feel about it? he continued. I don't really know. After all, I was only four when he died so he wasn't a real part of my life. My mother, of course, never let me forget what a wonderful person he was, and how tragic his death was, replied Marjorie with a small smile.
"Do you have any of your own memories of him at all?' asked Clare. "No, sadly, I don't. Only what my mother told me. Marjorie reached forward to pick up her tea. Her hand shook slightly as she put the cup to her lips. Clare looked at her fondly and saw that her mother's eyes were full of tears.