Read Online Deep Blue Sea by Tasmina Perry - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tasmina Perry
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wall with their camera phones and long lenses.’ Of course, they would hold a more formal memorial service at a later date, when the fuss had died down and the Denver PR machine had had a chance to work on rehabilitating Julian’s image. Plus it would give all those global statesmen and business leaders time to clear their diaries to pay their respects. That was the important thing, wasn’t it? Everyone wanted to remember Julian the way he was: perfect husband and son, a formidable force in business, the life and soul of every party. Apart from that last one, perhaps.
Diana looked out of the window of the black Mercedes limousine that was taking herself, Charlie and Sylvia to the funeral. It had been decided that the service should take place at the church in the village adjacent to Ralph and Barbara’s estate on the edge of the Cotswolds. It was a beautiful fifteenth-century honey-stone building with medieval stained-glass windows and wisteria climbing around the door, but Diana couldn’t help but think that she had let things run away from her. She could hardly complain if Elizabeth and Ralph had taken control of the arrangements – someone had to do it, and she just couldn’t get her brain to function properly; it was like she was being held back by a thick fog. But as they approached the church, she began to panic that the service would not be the sort of occasion that Julian would have wanted. She had sent Elizabeth a list of names – friends, people from his climbing club, the manager of a record shop he loved to visit in Notting Hill – but she had no idea if they had been invited. She suspected not.
‘You all right, Mum?’
Charlie was sitting opposite her in the car, looking deceptively grown-up in a black suit and tie. He had confided that he had cut his own hair for the occasion – which had been one of the few things to make Diana smile all week, although her mental note to take him to the hairdresser’s for a proper cut had been forgotten.
She nodded enthusiastically. A little too enthusiastically, reminding her that she was still hung-over. Without the arrangements for Julian’s funeral to occupy her, she had sought distraction in Somerfold’s magnificent wine cellar. It had been easy to liberate a few bottles of good Chablis without her mother, Charlie or Mrs Bills noticing, and that final one last night had not been a good idea. Diana didn’t drink. Eighteen months earlier, during the ‘big push’ for a child, she had recruited the services of Danesh Sitri, a macrobiotic practitioner, who had encouraged her to cut everything from alcohol to gluten from her diet.
Someone else she had disappointed.
There was a curve in the road ahead of them, and Diana could see the hearse stopping outside the church gates. They had been relegated to the second car and had to wait a few moments as the Mercedes carrying the Denver family came to a halt.
‘Are you sure you can do this?’ She sat up and touched Charlie’s knee.
‘So long as the other pallbearers aren’t four feet tall.’
Sylvia shot her grandson a disapproving look, but Diana just smiled, grateful that Charlie was intuitive enough to know not to let things become too sombre.
Stepping out of the car, she felt her whole body prickle, and she had a sudden urge to just run away.
‘Diana.’
She spun around at the sound of a familiar baritone, for a split second expecting to see her husband calling her name. But it was only Adam, Julian’s younger brother. He stood there, as handsome as his sibling, but a little taller and a little darker in every sense. He was something of a black sheep in the family; either a breath of fresh air or a layabout playboy, depending on your point of view. Right now, she had never been more disappointed to see anyone’s face.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
At that moment Elizabeth marched through the church gates and began ordering everyone around, directing pallbearers, guests, even the vicar.
‘I
Diana looked out of the window of the black Mercedes limousine that was taking herself, Charlie and Sylvia to the funeral. It had been decided that the service should take place at the church in the village adjacent to Ralph and Barbara’s estate on the edge of the Cotswolds. It was a beautiful fifteenth-century honey-stone building with medieval stained-glass windows and wisteria climbing around the door, but Diana couldn’t help but think that she had let things run away from her. She could hardly complain if Elizabeth and Ralph had taken control of the arrangements – someone had to do it, and she just couldn’t get her brain to function properly; it was like she was being held back by a thick fog. But as they approached the church, she began to panic that the service would not be the sort of occasion that Julian would have wanted. She had sent Elizabeth a list of names – friends, people from his climbing club, the manager of a record shop he loved to visit in Notting Hill – but she had no idea if they had been invited. She suspected not.
‘You all right, Mum?’
Charlie was sitting opposite her in the car, looking deceptively grown-up in a black suit and tie. He had confided that he had cut his own hair for the occasion – which had been one of the few things to make Diana smile all week, although her mental note to take him to the hairdresser’s for a proper cut had been forgotten.
She nodded enthusiastically. A little too enthusiastically, reminding her that she was still hung-over. Without the arrangements for Julian’s funeral to occupy her, she had sought distraction in Somerfold’s magnificent wine cellar. It had been easy to liberate a few bottles of good Chablis without her mother, Charlie or Mrs Bills noticing, and that final one last night had not been a good idea. Diana didn’t drink. Eighteen months earlier, during the ‘big push’ for a child, she had recruited the services of Danesh Sitri, a macrobiotic practitioner, who had encouraged her to cut everything from alcohol to gluten from her diet.
Someone else she had disappointed.
There was a curve in the road ahead of them, and Diana could see the hearse stopping outside the church gates. They had been relegated to the second car and had to wait a few moments as the Mercedes carrying the Denver family came to a halt.
‘Are you sure you can do this?’ She sat up and touched Charlie’s knee.
‘So long as the other pallbearers aren’t four feet tall.’
Sylvia shot her grandson a disapproving look, but Diana just smiled, grateful that Charlie was intuitive enough to know not to let things become too sombre.
Stepping out of the car, she felt her whole body prickle, and she had a sudden urge to just run away.
‘Diana.’
She spun around at the sound of a familiar baritone, for a split second expecting to see her husband calling her name. But it was only Adam, Julian’s younger brother. He stood there, as handsome as his sibling, but a little taller and a little darker in every sense. He was something of a black sheep in the family; either a breath of fresh air or a layabout playboy, depending on your point of view. Right now, she had never been more disappointed to see anyone’s face.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
At that moment Elizabeth marched through the church gates and began ordering everyone around, directing pallbearers, guests, even the vicar.
‘I
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