Forever Is Over (48 page)

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Authors: Calvin Wade

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Let it all die down. We could go in a few months time.

I didn

t mean this. This was a halfway house that was meant to
placate her. It didn

t work.


I might be in jail by then,

Kelly complained.

And I might be lifting hot coals with your mother, I thought.


There are too many reasons that we can

t just up and leave.


Like what?


I

ve already mentioned two. One is the fact that we

ll need a
visa to get in any decent country and the other is that if you make a
run for yourself, you may as well tattoo,

I killed my mother

on your
forehead.


Those reasons aren

t enough to stop me.

Kelly stated.


Well, they

re enough to stop me! So a third reason is that if you go
now, you go alone.


What else?

Kelly was mad now. Not mad crazy, mad furious.


Money, for starters. How could we survive as runaways, we

re skint!


I

m not. I

ve been saving the money I made in Woolies in case I
stayed on into Sixth Form.


How much have you got?


Two and a half grand!

I thought she was lying.


Two and a half grand!
From working at Woolies?


No, most of it came from my Grandd
ad before he died, three years
ago. He gave me a passbook from a bu
ilding society with my name on
and two thousand pounds in it. He
said to keep it away from Mum
because she

d just fritter it away on drink and drugs. He did the same
for Jemma.

Inadvertently, Kelly had just handed me my

Joker

!


There

s my final reason.


What?


Jemma. Could you leave Jemma to deal with all this crap on her
own?

I knew I had her. Kelly thought long and hard about this conundrum,
before eventually replying,


No, you

re right, Richie. I couldn

t. I

ve let her down too much
already to leave her on her own. In a lot of ways, Jemma relies on me. If we ran off and left her here, on her own, she

d never forgive
me. So I

m trapped, aren

t I?


You

re not trapped, Kelly, you just have to sit tight. No-one will
ever suspect you of killing your Mum. They may suspect, Jemma, but
you, never!

I felt guilty saying that but it was true. If the police suspected anyone
of killing Kelly

s Mum, it would be Jemma. Problem was, if Jemma was
arrested, Kelly would confess. There was no way Kelly would let Jemma
go to jail for a crime that Kelly had committed.

I started to panic. Maybe I had this
all wrong. Maybe Kelly was in
more danger of being caught for doing this than I thought. On the TV,
no-one gets away with murder. Maybe it

s the same in real life. Maybe
Kelly should be making a run for it. Maybe I should be encouraging
her to do just that.

Having convinced myself this would all blow over and a new
normality would emerge, now I suddenly felt a lot less secure. Everything
was falling apart. Kelly

s life, my body. That

s right, I remembered, I
had convinced myself this would be the day I told Kelly about the
lump. Nothing was going to stop me telling her. I looked at Kelly. Her
face was pale and she looked crestfallen. I couldn

t break the camel

s
back with this one. It would have to wait. Wait until the good times
returned, which if I got the all clear, could be just around the corner, it
would be an insignificant news item then. On the other hand, if I had
cancer and the truth about Kelly came to light, those good times might
be light years away.

 

Jemma

 


She was great your Mum! Life and soul of very party! I

m going to
fucking miss her! Saturday nights will never be the same again!

             
This was a universal eulogy for V
omit Breath from every druggie
and alcoholic, aged over thirty, within a ten mile radius of Ormskirk.

Each and every one of them turned up for the funeral, probably scenting the smell of free beer. They all wanted to share their stories of nights on
the lash with Vomit Breath! She was the patron saint of dipsomaniacs! I refrained from adding my own eulogy as it would have shattered their
allusions.


She crammed several lifetimes of partying into her thirty eight
years, your Mum did! Burnt the candle at both ends! She was generous
too, always the first to the bar!

Being first to the bar was not generosity as far as Vomit Breath was
concerned. It was a shrewd tactic. Buy the first round in the local whilst
drinks were cheap, then avoid paying later when they hit the trendy
wine bars and nightclubs when prices were almost double. As the night 
progressed, Vomit Breath

s mates were always too smashed to keep track
of who had bought the last round, so she always said she had bought the
round before last. At home, she used to brag that in over twenty years
of partying, she had never bought two rounds in the same night. Very
generous! To a fault!

All in all, there were about fifty mourners. Over forty drunken
friends of Vomit Breath

s, plus myself, Kelly, Ray, Richie, Vomit Breath

s
mother

Tut

and my school friend Amy, who I hadn

t seen a great deal
of since working in the bank and dating Ray, but she came to provide
some emotional support which was really good of her.


Tut

was on typical form.


Look at these people! Jemma, if you ever needed proof of what a
mess your mother made of her life, you would just need to look at the
quality of her friends. The lowest of the low! If the caste system existed
in this country, these lot would be the great unwashed! How on earth
did your mother screw everything up so badly? I feel sorry for your poor
Granddad, he

ll be turning in his grave tonight, he really will.

I pictured what a body would look like after three years of decaying.
Not fit to turn, I wouldn

t have thought.

Over the course of the day, Ray and

Tut

had formed an alliance. It
wasn

t the most unlikely alliance in th
e world, as other than Amy and
me, he wasn

t really left with too many people he could talk at. Ray and
Richie were maintaining a healthy distance apart throughout the post-
crematorium knees up and I knew full well that Kelly was not Ray

s
number one fan.

By nine in the evening, both Ray and

Tut

had had enough and
they looked at the drunken revellers downing whiskey shots in Vomit Breath

s memory, with more than a hint of disdain.


We need to kick this lot out soon,

Ray commented to

Tut

looking
at his watch,


I have experience of dealing with drunks. They

ll wreck this place
if we don

t get them out soon!


I

ll tell them to go,

Tut replied,

and if they don

t leave, I

ll be
calling the police.


Tut

considered this statement for a moment before re-considering.

             

Actually, no. I

m sure most of these reprobates have spent plenty of
time in a prison cell, maybe the threat of the police will not be enough
to get them out. More drastic action is called for!

I tell you what we could do, Ray. We could pour the rest of the
alcohol down the drain, that would send them packing!

So,

Tut

and Ray began the process of discreetly trying to empty the
house of booze. To be fair to

Tut

this was one of her better ideas and
I have to confess throughout the day she had been unusually tolerable,
even making me smile with some of her acidic comments.

At the crematorium, when Vomit Breath

s coffin slowly disappeared
from view, on it

s way to the incinerator,

Tut

muttered,

             

Dear Lord, that woman has so much alcohol inside her, when she
hits the fire, she

ll go up like a flamb
é
!

Prior to that, when the funeral hearses arrived at our house, Kelly,
more through guilt than sentiment had started to weep.

Tut

was
unsympathetic.


Pull yourself together, Kelly! You weren

t even fond of the woman!

             

It

s not that, Nan,

Kelly replied,

I

m just not feeling too well
today.


Tut

huffed.


Well, I wish you

d have told me,

Tut replied,

I could have made a two for one deal with the undertakers!

Vomit Breath

s funeral service was held at St. Michael

s church in
Aughton. The Vicar only consented to the service taking place as

Tut

had been a regular member of the congregation there for many years
and at one point was even the Church treasurer. Vomit Breath, however,
had not stepped in that church or any other, throughout her adult life
and I

m sure if she had had time to plan her own funeral, it would not
have included a church service.

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