...In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our sister Victoria; and we commit her body to the ground; earth to earth; ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless her and keep her, the Lord make his face to shine upon her and be gracious unto her and give her peace. Amen.
the small throng mumbled in hushed tones, their eyes gazing at the plain wooden box resting at the bottom of the dirt pit. One by one the mourners shuffled forward and tossed small bouquets of violets into the grave, crossing themselves as they hurried quickly away, their eyes averted to the trees, the tombs, anything but the yawning pit before them. They spoke a few words of sympathy to the chief mourners, the parents and siblings left behind, a few words of thanks to the priest who had conducted the ceremony. Then, as if it were against their will, they'd spoken at last to him.
I'm so sorry, sir. She was a good woman.
She'll be missed, most certainly.
It came as a shock to us all.
He nodded at them all dumbly, not raising his eyes from the wood box. They looked at him oddly, spoke in puzzled, hushed voices to each other, and shook their heads sadly before moving away down the road, black-clad heads bobbing in the mist.
He was left standing under the drooping branches of the willows, a solitary figure clad in black, dwarfed by the trees and tombs that surrounded him. The only breath of life in this city of the dead, the only beating heart among these cold stones. And he didn't seem to notice at all, or if he did, he couldn't have cared less.
After a few minutes of silence, his ears pricked up at the sound of heavy footsteps crunching through the fallen leaves on the dying grass. He didn't blink an eyelash as the footsteps neared, to finally fall silent beside him. He heard a heavy sigh, then a round voice reciting gentle words. But thy eternal summer shall not fade, nor lose possession of that fair thou ws'st. Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade, when in eternal lines to time thou grow'st. So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, so long lives this, and this gives life to thee. The voice paused a moment before continuing. Freddy, go home. This won't do you any good.
I'm glad you could make it, Peter, he answered, speaking for the first time in hours. His voice was heavy, quiet. Thought you wouldn't come.
Of course I came, the man said, lacing his fingers behind his back. You don't really think I'd miss it, would you?
He shrugged, continuing to look at the grave, laying open in the fog. She hated this weather, you know, he said after a while. Victoria. She hated the fog. She hated clouds. he looked up to where the sky was covered in a gray sludge. Doesn't seem fair, does it?
His friend said nothing, but his eyes drifted to the tombstone sticking out of the dirt, the base of it covered in flowers. Victoria Hawkins Abberline, it read. Devoted wife and mother. May she rest in peace. Mother...he'd almost forgotten about that. It was easy to forget, he thought, as there was only one coffin in the pit. Her husband, liked as he was at the Yard, couldn't have possibly scrounged up enough for two.
he began quietly, putting a hand gently on the younger man's shoulder. Why don't you come back to my place for a while, at least until you can get all your affairs together? Jane would be glad to have you, and it might be easier, to have other folks around.
No, thank you, he answered quickly, then looked up to search his friend's face. I didn't mean...I wouldn't want to impose on you, he said finally. And it's better. It is, it is better if I stay at home. I need to settle things with her family. he paused. And the dog. I can't leave George alone.
Then bring the blasted dog with you! We won't mind if he soils the bloody carpet, and we're... he stopped as he noticed Freddy's face go still again. I'm sorry, he said. I respect your wishes. You know I do.
He nodded. Thank you, he said, then looked across the cemetery to where a pair of jackdaws fought over a scrap of rubbish. They didn't even say that they were sorry, do you know that? he asked, resentment creeping into his voice. They wouldn't even talk to me. Hardly looked at me once through the funeral. It would have been the least they could have done.
Who's this, her family?
Yes, her family! he said sharply, his face clouding up. They blame me, did you know that, Sergeant Godley? They've always hated me, always thought I was dirt, and now, apparently I'm responsible for this, too. They've blamed me for every damn thing that's happened to her over the past few years, and now...now... he trailed off and wiped his hands down his face. Oh, God. Oh, God.
He took a breath, watching his friend's haggard face. Freddy, you had no way of knowing. It happens all the time. It could have happened to anyone.
It didn't, though, he answered quietly. It happened to Victoria. he sighed in resignation, his brown eyes glassy and vacant. Maybe it was my fault, he said. Maybe if I'd been something else, a doctor or a lawyer, and not a stupid bloody policeman, than this wouldn't have happened. Maybe I could have got her to hospital then, instead of just getting a bloody midwife. Maybe...maybe she'd be alive. Maybe my son would be alive. Just maybe...
Now, you listen to me, Freddy, Godley said sternly. It wasn't your fault. I want you to get that out of your head, now. Do you hear me, Freddy? It wasn't your fault.
But Godley had no way of knowing if the young man had even heard. He didn't move a muscle, his face worn and haggard. I am a sorry son-of-a-bitch, aren't I? he said at last. Shouldn't be getting so emotional, like. Not proper.
Screw being proper, Godley spat, shoving his hand into his pocket. His fingers tightened around a small roll of bills, and he pulled it out. he said, grasping Freddy's hand and putting the money into it. Listen, I know it's not much, but it might help. I know Victoria had to quit working at the shop, and...well, with her gone, things might get a little tight. I want you to have this.
Freddy looked down at the money in his hand and shook his head. No, Peter, he said strongly, shoving the money back at him. I'm not going to accept any bloody charity. She's dead, I know, but that doesn't mean that I've got to take your pity. Give it to someone who needs it.
Listen, Freddy, you bloody bastard, Godley snapped, taking the money and shoving it into the young man's coat pocket. It's not charity. It's a loan, you can pay me back when you get on your feet again. I'm your friend, not a bloody social worker.
Freddy looked at the man for a moment and then nodded. Thank you, he said quietly. Thank you.
Weren't nothing, Godley replied, then smiled a little. I heard you might be getting promoted soon, you know that? Inspector, they're thinking of making you.
He showed little interest, but Godley persisted.
It's an honour, a real honour, you know that, don't you? he grinned. Inspector Frederick Abberline. Has a rather nice ring to it, doesn't it?
I suppose so.
Now, listen, Freddy, Godley said sternly. I'm not going to let you wallow in your misery like this. Grief can kill a man as much as a bullet. Now, here's what I want you to do, he said, gripping his friend's shoulders and looking at him in the eyes. I want you to go out tonight. Go to a pub, go to a show, do something. Get out of the house and get away from those infernal relatives of hers. Do you hear me?
But George...
Oh, fuck the dog! I'll drop by and take him to our place. The important thing is that your get out and get your mind away from all of this, even if it is just for a few hours. You hear me, Abberline?
He nodded slowly. Yes. I'll do that, see a show, I mean. Might...might raise my spirits.
There's the spirit! Godley laughed, slapping his shoulders. Now, I've got to head out, but you take my words to heart, young man. The next time I see you, I want you to be suffering from a hangover, and maybe smiling a little. Can you do that for me?
I'll try. Good day, Peter.
Good day, Freddy. Take care of yourself. He smiled a little and turned away, stepping back over the dead grass. He left Abberline staring at the jackdaws.