Authors note: I know this chapter's a bit short but I think it works for impact. Just because: my favourite is Phish Food lol.
Chapter 11
The funkiest funeral on the Hill
It was Tuesday at 10.30 on the hill, and Alice's George's family were burying their only daughter, no-one wore black and the music of 'Joan Jett and the Blackhearts' blasted out of the crematorium loudly enough to caused raised eyebrows with the funeral officials.
Kara Williamson and Chris Haliwell stood side by side, hands intertwined, the only ones in attendance who knew the truth, who knew that Alice had already been avenged, but somehow that didn't help because they both knew that Alice's parents could never, would never, know that this was the case, would never even know what or who had killed their daughter. She would remain another of San Francisco's unsolved murders, looked into probably looked into and kept open for a while, and then filed as a cold case and forgotten by all those it did not matter to.
"What is it?" Chris asked, concerned about her looking so far away.
"Huh? Nothing. It's just... I have to lie in my speech, because no-one else knows what we know and I don't want to."
"So don't lie, just don't tell them the truth about her death either."
"I don't know...I can't..." she shook her head and dropped her gaze.
Chris took her face in his hands and lifted her head took look into her eyes green eyed gaze to green eyed gaze.
"You can do this... you can do this because you more than anyone knows what this would do to them and because you have to Kara and I know that you can."
They walked into the church still hand in hand. It seemed so dark and depressing, versus the last funeral she had been to, her father's had been, bright, white and sparkling, the words were full of hope that they would meet again, in a reincarnation of in the Summerlands.
This place seemed dark and Kara could feel no hope here. They sat in an uncomfortable pew, again full of dark varnished wood and dark scuffed red velvet, the musty church smell filling Kara's nose and conjuring a thousand memories of hope and despair, none of them hers, as in her life she had only been in church twice in her life, and this was before she had inherited her fathers telepathic abilities.
Even more than it should have been this was torture. Churches had too many attachments for these people, every swelling note of every hymn buffeted Kara's telepathic centres like she was a ship in a storm and every false word that came out of the priests mouth hit Kara like an arrow.
Kara's turn came, she was the second speech and the first had been real and Kara had wept. Now it was her turn and even though she had written and rewritten and rehearsed and re-rehearsed her speech, she didn't know if she was ever going to be ready.
She stood on the lectern and looked out at the sea of pale, drawn faces in the dark uninviting church and felt the emotions pouring out of them change direction as they turned their attention to her expectantly.
She took a deep breath and began to speak her voice trembling.
"I know that you all loved Alice, that we all did and I also know that she would be pleased that only the ones of you who are most comfortable in it are wearing black. I'll be honest, I was terrified of making this speech, because making the speech would make it all real, just like the police when the police released the body it would be real or when we bought her home and saw her parents it would make it real, but it's not real. It can never be real because she's always going to be with me, with us all. She saved me after my family fell apart, she became my family and her family did. She died too young and whoever did this will pay for depriving us of her and her of her life. She was a great and wonderful person and she will stay with us all in our hearts and minds always. Moira, Steven, I hope there's Ben and Jerry's at the wake otherwise it just wouldn't be Alice's party. And it is."
She left the lectern, legs shaking and returned to the pew beside Chris. She sat down and laid her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and once again she let her tears fall again soaking the fabric of Chris' shirt.
The wake was uneventful, but happy and finished late on a tide of music laughter and good memories of a good person.
A good few hours later a slightly intoxicated and very sugar happy Kara, sat clutching a litre of 'Rocky Road'. "She would have loved this you know" she said to Chris "This, however..." she waved the ice cream carton at him "...was not her favourite flavour."
He smiled, liking this more chilled version of her, but worried at how well she seemed to be reacting to this. "How are you?"
She seemed to sober up quickly, and Chris suspected that some of it was front or picked up from the mood of others, because of her lowered guard, her telepathic abilities, and perhaps like everyone there she felt she should be seeming happy, because 'it was Alice's party.'
"I hurt, like hell, because this was my fault and I lost her and helped kill Eve, but Eve let them kill her and I... but I have to get on with things, like she helped me to do after my mum and Eve left and when my dad died and if I don't I'll be letting her down. So, yeah, I hurt like I never thought I'd have to hurt again but I'll be OK, because I have to be."