Date: Mon, 14 Aug 2023 14:00:43 +0000 From: Jonah Subject: The Happiest Days Chapter 15 The Happiest Days by Jonah This is a story about love - real love - at work in the lives of good people. It follows on from "Halls of Academia," but the story really began many, many moons ago with "A Letter from America". There are no real people herein so, if you think one of the characters is based on you, or on somebody you know, have another think and come up with a different answer. Having said that, I didn't invent every character. A couple of them were originally crafted by another author. I have to (well, actually, it is my pleasure to) thank Jacob Lion, in the USA for his permission to use his characters in my stories. I hope you will enjoy this story, and I'm grateful to Nifty for enabling me to bring it to you. Nifty does not charge either me or you for doing so, but it does cost money to do it. Please consider donating to Nifty at https://donate.nifty.org/ to help keep this site going. Chapter 15 Ashes to Ashes The first day of July was sunny and our little family were all up, showered, breakfasted and dressed to the nines (whatever they are) even earlier than we would have been if we had been going to school. We were not going to school, and didn't need to be anywhere before almost mid-day, so there was no logical reason for any of the above. The only reason for it on my part was that I knew Philip was anxious and I didn't want tardiness on anybody else's part to add to that anxiety. Most of the arrangements with the funeral directors had been made by Garret who, as one of Philip's teachers, felt that he had some sort of responsibility in the matter - something else to which the rules of logic did not apply. There was no evidence that either of Philip's parents had any history of religious faith, but Garret had thought it appropriate that a Methodist minister should celebrate the service, since Philip had been attending Church with us. Stan Cardington, the superintendant minister of the Norwich circuit had agreed to conduct the service for us. It was to be a simple commital. No eulogies would be said because there was nobody to say any. At a quarter past eleven we climbed into my mini and I drove down Manor Road to the crem. The funeral director invited us to wait in the foyer as the congregation from the previous funeral were just leaving. Two boys were silent as the grave. Philip's unease was palpable and Lloyd would not leave his side. He was holding Philip's hand and nobody, least of all Philip. prevented him.Besides ourselves there were four people that we didn't know. They whispered a little amongst themselves then one middle aged lady, who had obviously just been elected spokesperson, walked over and spoke to Philip. She was about to place a hand on the boy's shoulder, then she thought better of it. "We're sorry about your mum dearie," she told the boy, then to me she added, "I'm Mrs. Pegg, I live next-door to where Ben and Lizbeth lived. Me and the other ladies in the close, well we reckoned Philip wouldn't want to be bothered with having to arrange a wake or anything, so we've asked the Black Swan to do tea and sandwiches. We'd be glad if you'd like to pop in afterwards." I was choked up so Garret answered for me. "That's very kind and we'd like to, but we'll have to see how Philip is after the service. It's been a bit of an ordeal for him." "Of course it has," the lady responded. "Nobody should have to go through that - least of all a good boy like Philip. Well I'll leave it up to you." At this point Philip himself spoke up. "Thank you for doing that Mrs. Pegg," he said. "We'd like to come, really we would." "I said you were a good boy Philip, "said the lady, " and so you are." At this point she finally found the courage to place a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder, but it was quickly converted to a hug as Philip threw his arms around her waist and buried his face in her stomach. "There, there dearie," she muttered as she patted the boy's back. Both Jean and Linda had joined us in time to witness this but, like us, they stayed apart from it. In any case, it was time to go in. Philip and Lloyd sat together in the front row so Garret and I flanked them. I don't know where the other six people sat. We all stood as Stan, preceeding the coffin, loudly declaimed, "I am the resurrection and the life, says the Lord. She who believeth in me, though she were dead, yet shall she live." Twenty minutes later we were outside in the sunshine. Having sung "The Lord's my Shepherd" together (to Crimond), we were all like old aquaintances. We were taking Linda for tea and sandwiches. Jean, of course, had to get back to school. Philip, who had cried through much of the service, wiped his eyes and thanked everybody for their attendance, shaking hands and accepting kisses. The four ladies walked, in the July sunshine, to the Black Swan. I, of course, had my car. Mrs. Pegg sat at table with us and consumed sandwiches - sandwiches that had stretched in definition to include pork pie and sausage rolls - I had seen Mrs. Wifflett at chapel on Sundays, but had never known her name before. The other two ladies, Mrs. Spence and Miss Gray, were introduced to us by Philip who, realising that the event had been organised on his behalf, had obviously decided to take back ownership of it, and was doing a good job of it too. Before we departed, Philip had to thank everybody again. Not till we got back home and he was able to discard his Sunday clothes did he consider himself off duty. "Daddy!" Garret was upstairs supervising Philip, since it had come to our attention that removing his Sunday best clothes hadn't included putting them away. "Yes Lloyd." "Thank you." "For what sweetheart?" "For being there for Philip like you are for me." The little angel sat next to me on the settee and leaned into me as my arm snaked around his slender shoulders. "It's my job to look after you Lloyd, and I like looking after Philip. He's a good boy - not that you're not" It occurred to me that I'd just walked blindly into the middle of a minefield. "Is that because I'm your son?" "Yes it is." "Can Philip be your son too?" "Would you like him to be?" "Yes." "Then I'll see if Philip wants to be, then I'll have a word with Dad and see if we can make it happen." Garret and I had the conversation later - after the boys were in bed. We both thought that, with Linda in our corner, there should be no problems. All that proved to be right. It was only three months later that Mr. Justice Fulmore signed the adoption papers and Philip was officially a member of our family. The End