Warning: Episode may contain strong language, violence and sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

PREVIOUSLY…

• Having discovered Tom’s affair, Kate ended their marriage after a heart-to-heart.
• Tom tragically took his own life.

The Oak & Vine,
Glendale

Kate Spencer stood silently before the full-length mirror and took a deep breath, steadying herself. The reflection staring back was a woman she hardly recognised. It had been nine days since the death of her husband, Tom, and she had passed through each one in nothing but a haze of confusion and disbelief.

She calmly and methodically fastened a pair of small pearl earrings to her ears, fixed the collar of her black silk blouse, and picked some lint from her dark slacks. She checked her reddish-brown hair – usually tousled in soft curls, but today it was tied back into a tight ponytail that accentuated her oval-shaped face – and smacked her lips. Then, as she dabbed the tip of her index finger against the corners of her mouth, in the reflection she noticed the delicate gold necklace Tom had gifted her for her forty-fifth birthday just a few weeks earlier. It lay on the dresser, and, as her eyes settled upon it, Kate couldn’t help but think of the moments that had brought her to this point. She picked it up and opened the gold oval-shaped locket. On the left was a small photo of Tom, while on the right was a tiny photo of their children – Ava, Harry, and Noah – cuddled up to Buster the border collie. Tears threatened to well up in Kate’s eyes, but she forced them away. She wasn’t ready to cry. Not yet. She closed the locket and then clasped the piece of jewellery around her neck before moving the pendant into position on her chest.

Kate paused to examine her reflection more closely. Her eyes, once bright with laughter and joy, were dull, bloodshot, and tired. Although masked by makeup, her face still looked pale and drawn, while she, herself, recognised that she looked thin. The days following Tom’s death had clearly taken a heavy toll.

“You can do this,” she whispered to herself, searching for the strength she knew had to be within her somewhere as she tried to reflect the strong, resilient, and beautiful woman Tom had loved.

In the reflection, Kate noticed six-year-old Noah hovering in the doorway, his hands fidgeting with the small black tie around his neck. “Hey, Bubble.” She turned away from her reflection and crossed the room toward her young son, crouching down to straighten his tie with slightly trembling hands.

“When’s Daddy coming home?” Noah asked with a voice as fragile as antique glass.

The question caught Kate unawares, and she choked on her emotions. “Sweetheart,” she began with her Welsh-accented voice trembling and her chin quivering as she smoothed down the sad boy’s blonde hair. “Daddy, he’s not coming home. Remember?”

Noah paused for a moment, reflecting on his mother’s words. His brow creased with confusion before he nodded slowly. “But I miss him.”

The sadness that clung to her young son broke Kate’s heart, and she swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat refused to budge. “I know, darling. We all miss Daddy.”

“Why did he have to go to heaven?”

As the boy’s eyes searched hers, Kate felt a wave of tears rising. She sucked in her lips and cupped a hand to his cheek. “Because Jesus needed him in heaven for a sunbeam.”

“But I need him here to play football.”

“I know, sweetheart. But he’ll always be in here, remember?” Kate replied, pressing a hand against Noah’s heart. “And as long as he’s in there, he’ll always be here with us.”

Noah nodded, although he didn’t fully understand. “Is he mad at me because I told you the secret? Is that why he went to heaven?”

The questions landed like hammer blows, and Kate’s face crumpled. “No, sweetheart, he could never be mad at you,” she reassured him, her heart aching as she pulled the youngster in for a hug. Kate held her son so tightly she felt like she could break him. “Daddy loves you very much. He always has, and he always will.”

Kate began to sob, although she tried hard to fight it. She felt Noah’s little hands – wrapped around her like a baby koala clutching to its mother – begin to rub against her back as he tried to soothe her pain.

“It’s okay to be sad, Mummy,” the young boy said gently against her shoulder. “I’ll look after you.”

-:-

Stood outside the pub, dressed in his Sunday best, Richard Spencer took a drag from his cigarette as he scanned the village he hadn’t seen in nearly two decades. The quaint cottages, charming village green, and cobbled streets remained relatively unchanged, yet everything felt different now. Glendale was his home, one he had abandoned after his divorce from Carol, but tragedy had drawn him back.

Richard blew out a puff of smoke. When he had received the phone call from Tony Kennedy that Tom had died, his world had stopped. His firstborn son, the apple of his eye, had taken his own life, and Richard struggled to comprehend what could’ve driven him to take such drastic and tragic action. Although he had received an explanation from his daughter, Claire, that Tom had been involved with the local baker, Richard refused to believe it. His son wasn’t gay. He was married with kids. He didn’t have sex with men. Tom wasn’t gay. He took another drag from his cigarette, and then, out the corner of his eye, he saw movement at the end of Queen Victoria Street that made his heart stop.

-:-

Upstairs, in the kitchen of The Oak & Vine, Pamela Granger and her niece, Claire Spencer, sat at the table with mugs of tea cradled in their hands, seeking out comfort in the strong brew on such a heart-wrenching day.

Claire stared into her cup. “I can’t believe we’re doing this today,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion as she thought about her older brother and how he had ended his life. “It feels surreal.”

Pamela reached across the table, her fingers gently touching Claire’s. “I know, sweetheart. It’s so hard to understand. How’s Carol?”

Claire looked up, her eyes glistening. “Not great, Aunty Pam. This has really taken a toll on her.”

Pamela nodded and let out a faint sigh. “Your Nan too,” she said, thinking about her mother-in-law, Audrey Granger, and how Tom’s death had greatly impacted her. “Hopefully after today we can all find some peace with what’s happened.”

-:-

In the living room, Carol Kennedy stood at the window wearing a black Marks & Spencer tea dress as she silently surveyed the world outside. She had enjoyed the view from that exact spot every day for nearly thirteen years, but on this day, it was different. A sadness seemed to cloak the village, and it was a world she no longer recognised.

Her eyes drifted across the village green towards All Saints Church, where she would soon bury her son, her dear Tom, and the gravity of the situation was almost too much to bear. Then she saw it – a glint of black metal rolling slowly down Queen Victoria Street. The hearse approached solemnly, and Carol’s breath caught in her throat as it came to a stop outside the doors of The Oak & Vine. Her heart broke at the sight of the casket, and she could feel tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

Behind her, Dan Spencer – her youngest, although in his late thirties – appeared in the doorway, dressed in a tailored black suit that fitted his athletic build perfectly, a crisp white shirt, and a black tie.

“Mum,” he said gently with a sad expression on his face. “It’s time.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Acorn Cottage,
Glendale

At the door to the guest bedroom of Acorn Cottage, Queenie Baxter paused. Ever since the tragedy that had befallen the village, she had noticed that Jack Campbell, the local police sergeant who was staying with her following the breakdown of his marriage, had retreated into himself, and it troubled her deeply. Queenie had noticed the haunted look that crossed Jack’s face when she had told him the terrible news about Tom taking his own life, and over the past few days, she had grown sick with concern as Jack pulled away from the world.

“Jackie?” Queenie said and knocked softly. She didn’t wait for an answer before turning the knob and slowly opening the door. She found Jack sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed. He wasn’t dressed for the funeral. The sight tugged at Queenie’s heart. Jack looked so small and childlike, and she wished she could wrap him in the warmth of her love and care. “We’ve gotta ‘ead off soon.”

“I’m not going, Queenie,” Jack replied with a shake of his head. His words seemed to be weighed down with something the octogenarian couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it wasn’t pleasant. “I can’t.”

Without asking if she could join, Queenie hobbled across the room, aided by her walking stick, and settled herself down beside him. She studied Jack’s face, searching for a glimmer of the man she had come to know, love, and care deeply for. “Why aren’t ya comin’?”

Jack’s defences seemed to crumble, and he began to sob heavily.

Queenie immediately realised what she couldn’t put her finger on earlier – Jack’s heart was weighed down by guilt. “Oh, Jackie Boy,” she said gently, wrapping her arms tightly around his broad frame and holding him close as he cried into her shoulder. “Wot on earth ‘as got ya so upset?”

“It’s all my fault, Queenie.”

“Wot is?”

“This. All of this. If I hadn’t done what I did in the pub, then Tom would’ve never…”

Queenie rubbed Jack’s back as she leaned her head against his, hoping the touch would bring him some comfort. She looked to the heavens and tried to blink away her own tears. It crushed her to see Jack so consumed with guilt and remorse. “Oh, Lovie,” she said soothingly, “yer not responsible for wot Tom went an’ dun.”

“But I am.” Jack pulled back and sniffed as he looked at her through bloodshot, glassy eyes. “I humiliated him, Queenie. I attacked him. I outed him. How? How could I have done that to someone? I… I’m so ashamed.” Jack choked on his own words for a moment as thoughts of his confrontation with Tom swirled in his mind. He had been so cruel and lashed out in anger. While Jack was angry after discovering that his husband, Lee, was having an affair with Tom, he realised now that there was no excuse for his anger boiling over, and he regretted his actions more than he could express.

“I feel so guilty,” he said, lowering his head in shame. “How can I possibly go and face Kate knowing that Tom took his own life because of what I did?”

Queenie squared up in her posture, refusing to allow Jack to be consumed by the same darkness that had taken Tom. “Now ya listen to me,” she said resolutely in a serious tone that caught Jack’s attention as she took his hand in between both of hers. “None of this yer fault, ya ‘ear me? Things got said in the ‘eat of the moment – an’ rightly so – but ya didn’t do this to Tom. ‘e was a broken soul who did the only thing that would free ‘imself from ‘is pain. Ya can’t carry this guilt, Lovie, ya just can’t. If ya ‘old onto it, it will eat ya up.”

Jack’s body shuddered as he tried to get control of his emotions.

“Ya need to be kind to y’self, Jackie,” Queenie continued as she rubbed the top of his hand. “Now, I’ve gotta ‘ead to the church, but I’ll save a spot for ya next to me in the fourth row if ya change ya mind.”

With that, Queenie leaned forward and tenderly kissed Jack’s forehead before lifting her tired bones off the bed and hobbling back across the room to the door. She grasped the doorknob and looked back over her shoulder. “Jackie?”

Jack lifted his head and looked back at Queenie from under his brow.

“I love ya.”

A soft smile formed and brightened Jack’s face slightly. “I love you too, Queenie.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Glendale,
England

As a crisp September breeze rustled through the old trees of Glendale, a lone bagpiper started to play, and the haunting tune of “Amazing Grace” echoed around the village. The hearse that carried Tom’s polished mahogany coffin pulled away from the Oak & Vine and began a slow, solemn procession around the village green and down Queen Victoria Street, always remaining a few feet behind the marching bagpiper. The Spencer family followed silently behind on foot.

At the front of the procession, Kate walked ramrod straight. Her resolute expression was hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, but her stare never wavered from Tom’s coffin. She held tightly to the hands of their two young sons, Harry and Noah, who walked beside her. Six-year-old Noah occasionally glanced up at his mother, while ten-year-old Harry focused on placing one foot in front of the other and taking in the enormity of the moment. Beside them, fifteen-year-old Ava walked with her stare firmly fixed on the hearse as tears pooled in her eyes.

Following the immediate family were Carol and Tony. Tom’s mother struggled to walk, feeling as if her legs could buckle and give way at any moment, and she clutched tightly to her husband’s arm for support, while Tony marched silently with one arm wrapped around his wife’s shoulders as she began to sob. Beside them, Tom’s father, Richard, walked with a steely gaze, trying to maintain a façade of strength for the family.

Tom’s sister, Claire, walked just behind them, her eyes darting among the villagers who had come out onto the street to pay their respects. Faces she recognised, and some she didn’t, offered a sympathetic smile and bowed their heads as the hearse passed. Her brother, Dan, held her hand and squeezed it gently when he felt her emotions begin to wobble.

The procession moved down Queen Victoria Street, passing the familiar homes that lined the road. Their curtains were drawn as a mark of respect for a man who was a son of Glendale.

As they approached All Saints Church, a gentle breeze stirred, rustling the leaves of the trees lining the path, and the chime of church bells began to toll, marking their sombre arrival.

With each toll, Kate’s heart pounded in her chest, yet she continued onwards as the hearse inched closer to the lychgate. The final steps felt monumental, and Kate’s chin quivered. The hearse came to a halt, and the bagpiper stopped. The silence was deafening. While the family gathered closer and the pallbearers stepped forward, the residents of Glendale moved inside the church to say a final goodbye to one of their own.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Bluebell Cottage,
Glendale

Having been discharged from hospital a few days earlier, Lee Campbell sat in the living room of Bluebell Cottage with the curtains drawn. The room was dark, yet it felt strangely comforting to be amongst the shadows as he grappled with the enormity of losing the man he loved – Tom. The circumstances and subsequent reveal of their affair had sent shockwaves through the village and shattered lives. His marriage to Jack lay in ruins, Kate had been left devastated, and Tom had taken his own life. The calamity was astronomical.

Lee had been advised not to attend the funeral by his mother, Marion Atkins, but as he rested on the sofa, he couldn’t help but feel like he should be there to say one final goodbye to the man he loved and missed. He heard the strains of the bagpipes outside and knew what it signified – Tom was making one final journey past Bluebell Cottage.

Lee knew that he should be there to pay his respects, but when all was said and done, he doubted if he could face it. He had caused enough pain, and he knew in his bones that his presence would only inflict more heartache on Tom’s loved ones.

As the bagpipes stopped, Lee turned his head slightly and looked at the closed curtains that covered the window. That was it. The funeral would begin shortly, and then Tom would have left Glendale behind forever. With a heavy exhale of breath, he collected his phone from the coffee table and tapped on the very last message Tom had sent him:

I love you xx

Tears welled in Lee’s eyes as his heart tore in two.

“I love you too, Tom,” he whispered softly, lifting his face towards the ceiling as if looking up to speak directly to the man he adored. “And I always will.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

All Saints Church,
Glendale

As the mourners filed in through the heavy wooden doors and took their seats, Emma Blake slipped into one of the pews in the back. Dressed in a black double-breasted blazer, black satin blouse, and dark slacks, she tried to blend inconspicuously into the crowd. Since learning of Tom’s death, she had been consumed by a crippling sense of guilt. She had known of his affair and pushed for him to tell Kate the truth, yet never could she have imagined the tragic twist that would steal Tom from his family and leave her questioning whether she had crossed a line that contributed to his death.

Emma curled a lock of her wavy brown hair behind her ear and inhaled a calming, steadying breath. While she had tried her best to be there for her boyfriend, Ben Granger, in the wake of his cousin’s death, the crushing guilt she felt had also put a subsequent strain on their relationship as she had subconsciously pulled away. Ben had asked her to sit with him at the funeral, but Emma had selfishly refused. She had tried, she really had, but she couldn’t move past the guilt, and she knew that eventually she would have to tell Ben the truth that she had known about Tom’s affair for the last few months.

-:-

“May I?” Betty Worchester asked as she stood at the end of the fourth pew and looked down at the empty space beside Queenie.

Queenie side-eyed the short woman, who was as good as a mortal enemy. Why she had chosen to sit beside her of all places puzzled the octogenarian, but it wasn’t the day for friction or argument, and so, without uttering a word, Queenie clutched her handbag to her chest and shuffled down the pew slightly, making way for Betty to sit and ensuring there would still be enough for Jack, should he choose to attend.

Betty lowered her heavy frame into the uncomfortable pew and looked ahead to the three large lancet windows, each containing its own gorgeous stained-glass scene – the left showed Mary reading a passage from the Bible; the right showed Joseph praying; and in the centre, Jesus cradled a little lamb as he was surrounded by angels. The three designs seemed to shimmer and glow as the sunlight intensified outside.

“Makes ya think, doesn’t it?” She said with a sniff as her eyes remained firmly focused on the scene of Jesus. “What’s it all for? All the wars. All the arguments. All the petty squabbles. All for what? A bit of dirt? To feel smug and righteous for a fleeting moment?”

Queenie shifted her head slightly to glance in Betty’s direction, not that she wanted to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she was paying attention to what she was saying.

“I’m tired.” Betty sighed wearily and looked Queenie’s way. “Aren’t you tired, Lizzie? We’ve been fightin’ for, what, forty years, and—”

“Forty-seven,” Queenie cut in quickly to emphasise the longevity of their feud.

“But who’s counting, right?” Betty snuffled to herself. “We were friends once, y’know.”

“I try not to remember,” Queenie replied with a tight mouth as she fired off another side-eyed glance and strummed her fingertips against her leather handbag.

Betty shifted herself so her whole frame was facing Queenie. “I know we’ll never be best friends again, Lizzie, but I would like to try and at least be civil to each other,” she said with a genuine sincerity. “For Audrey’s sake.” Betty allowed the declaration to settle for a moment before continuing. “We may not like each other, but we both love Audrey, and if nothing else, we should try and get along for her, especially after all this.”

Queenie couldn’t argue with reason.

“And maybe one day soon we can sit down and try and talk through the past and come to some sort of undertandin’ to move forward,” Betty continued. “We ain’t got long left, y’know, Liz.”

“Speak for ya’self!” Queenie rebuffed with indignation and ignored the gleeful smile that curled Betty’s lips as she finally coaxed a response out of her. “The cheek of ya!” A moment of quiet contemplation passed before Queenie sucked in her lips and sighed. “I s’pose we could ‘ave a coffee at twelve on Fri-dee, if that suits? If not, then it’s no skin of me nose.”

“I’d like that.”

Queenie returned her attention to the front of the church and focused on the scene of Mary. “Right, Fri-dee it is,” she said, refusing to acknowledge the smile firmly fixed to Betty’s round face. “An’ please, call me Beth.”

-:-

Ed Atkins and his wife, Marion, entered the church as a wave of hushed whispers swirled around them, rippling throughout the mourners like a wave. Marion caught snippets of conversations, and her heart sank as she established the topic – Lee’s affair with Tom. Cruel asides and biting comments about the clandestine relationship and her son’s culpability in Tom’s suicide stung like nettles.

Sensing his wife’s unease, Ed squeezed her hand reassuringly and silently willed her to ignore the sea of judgemental glances and whispers. They quickly found a pew near the back and settled in, hiding away from the scandal that had tarnished their family’s reputation.

-:-

Moving silently down the nave, Jack arrived at the fourth pew from the front and slid in beside Queenie. Without a word, she turned to him, her eyes sparkling, and she was happy that her talk to him earlier had made him see sense. A gentle smile spread across Queenie’s face as she reached for Jack’s hand and intertwined their fingers in a silent gesture of support.

-:-

A stirring rendition of “The Lord is My Shepherd” started on the pipe organ as Ben, Richard, Tony, and Dan passed through the weathered oak doors carrying Tom’s coffin into the church. The polished mahogany, topped with a simple bouquet of white flowers and a white card that simply stated Daddy, reflected the beams of sunshine that shone in through the windows as they walked slowly down the nave, and the sound of their footsteps echoed against the stone floor.

Behind them, the procession of family followed. Kate walked with her head held high, still tightly holding the hands of Harry and Noah, as if, by letting them go, she might lose them too, while Ava was close by. Behind her, Carol clutched a handkerchief in trembling hands as she was escorted down the aisle by Claire, while Audrey leaned on Pamela as they followed.

As they reached the front of the church, the four men gently set the coffin down beneath the magnificent stained-glass windows of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and the vibrant colours bathed the coffin in a halo of light that seemed almost otherworldly.

The family took their seats in the front pews and prepared to say goodbye to the husband, father, son, grandson, and brother that they so dearly loved and so desperately missed.

-:-

Dressed in a white robe with a dark purple stole, Reverend Turner stepped up to the dark cherrywood pulpit and surveyed the mourners with empathetic eyes. There was no escaping the palpable sense of grief and loss that hung in the air.

“Today, we gather to celebrate the life of Thomas William Spencer – or simply Tom to all of us – a beloved son of this glorious village in a quiet corner of England,” he said with a voice that was steady yet gentle. “We gather to remember the joy he brought to each of us, the remarkable spirit with which he lived, and to say goodbye.”

Reverend Turner spoke of Tom’s cricketing prowess, his kindness, and the indelible mark he left on those who loved him. He shared stories of Tom’s misadventures, his deep love for his family, and the unwavering support and community spirit he shared for their sleepy village. Sobs and sniffles rippled through the mourners as the reality that Tom was gone hit home.

Reverend Turner concluded his reflection and invited Tom’s family to share their own thoughts. “Now, I would like to invite Tom’s children – Ava, Harry, and Noah – to step forward and say a few words.”

The children exchanged glances as nervousness and anxiety gripped them. A born leader, Ava took a deep breath and walked forward, encouraging her two younger brothers to go with her. After a moment, Harry and Noah rose from their seats and followed behind, their small hands clutching each other for comfort.

With encouragement and guidance from Ava, six-year-old Noah removed a piece of paper from the pocket of his small trousers, and his little hands trembled as he looked out across the sea of faces with innocent eyes.

“Dear Daddy,” he began quietly. “Mummy says you’ve gone to heaven and that you can’t come back. But I miss you, Daddy, and I need you to play football with me. I hope heaven is nice and that your cloud is squishy like marshmallows. I like marshmallows. I love you, Daddy, and Buster does too.”

Kate’s mouth tightened, and her eyes glistened with tears as she watched her children be stoic beside their father’s coffin. The whole thing seemed surreal, yet she knew it wasn’t. Her heart, wounded by Tom’s deceit and shattered by his death, ached, and she hated that she couldn’t protect her children from the pain they were so obviously feeling. She hadn’t read their speeches beforehand, and hearing Noah’s heartfelt words completely broke her.

Ten-year-old Harry was next. He shifted nervously, unable to look at Tom’s casket but also unable to look out at the dozens of faces that stared back at him. “To my dad,” he began, his face hidden behind a sheet of crumpled A4 paper on which he had written his message. “I miss you, and I want you to come home. I don’t know why you died, but I’m sad, and I hope you are looking down on us from heaven and that you’re there with great-granddad. You are the bestest dad in the whole wide world, and I love you and I miss you.”

A tear rolled down Audrey’s cheek at the touching mention of her long-dead husband, William.

Ava cleared her throat and tried to remain calm. “I didn’t know what to say, but I found this poem online, and I thought I would read it today. It is called ‘Come With Me’ by Rhonda Braswell,” she said as she read from her iPhone. “God saw you getting tired, and a cure was not to be, so he put his arms around you and whispered, ‘Come with me.’ With tearful eyes we watched you suffer, and saw you fade away, although we loved you dearly, we could not make you stay. A golden heart stopped beating, hard-working hands at rest, God broke our hearts to prove, that he only takes the best. It’s lonesome here without you, we miss you more each day, life doesn’t seem the same, since you’ve gone away. When days are sad and lonely, and everything goes wrong, we seem to hear you whisper, ‘cheer up and carry on.’ Each time we see your picture, you seem to smile and say, ‘don’t cry, I’m in God’s keeping, we’ll meet again someday.’ You never said ‘I’m leaving’, you never said goodbye, you were gone before we knew it, and only God knew why. A million times we needed you, a million times we cried, if love alone could have saved you, you never would have died. In life we loved you dearly, in death we love you still, in our hearts you hold a place, that no one could ever fill. It broke our hearts to lose you, but you didn’t go alone, for part of us went with you, the day God took you home.”

-:-

After her children had returned to their seats, and having been invited to speak by Reverend Turner, Kate stepped up to the pulpit – her heart pounding in her chest – and rested her palms against the dark cherrywood. She paused, drawing a shaky breath as she looked out upon the sea of familiar faces, all of whom shared in her grief. She hadn’t prepared anything and planned to speak from the heart, but suddenly, with Tom’s coffin just a few feet away, she struggled to find the right words.

“Thank you all for being here today,” she began as her accented Welsh voice trembled and cracked while her brain frantically tried to find a way to articulate her thoughts and feelings about her husband. “I’m not sure I can find the words, but I know I need to try. For Tom. For my Tom.”

Kate glanced at the mahogany coffin, and her throat tightened as she struggled to hold back tears. “Tom was more than just my husband,” she said, and looked back out at the mourners. “He was my partner, my best friend, and the love of my life. I remember the first time we met at the HMV on Oxford Street…” Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head as a smile danced on her lips as she remembered the story she’d told a million times before – of “Chocolate Salty Balls” and “Tragedy.” “We were both in line to buy CD’s, and we got chatting in the queue, and he had this smile, this cheeky, naughty smile that could brighten up a rainy day. I thought he was well lush. I knew then that he would be the love of my life, and, for a quarter of a century, he was. He is. He made me feel like I was the only person in the world, and he had this way of making everyone feel special and seen. Like they mattered.”

Kate’s voice caught, as if she had suddenly remembered how he had died and the events that led up to it. She wondered if Lee felt the same way. She took a moment to compose herself and wiped a tear from her cheek.

“I only wish that he had seen how special he was and how much he mattered,” she continued and cleared her throat. “Because for all his faults, and of those there were many, at his core, Tom was a decent, caring, and loving man. He worshipped our children, and to him, family was everything.” She began to sob and allowed her raw emotions to take hold. “Every day with him was a gift, and I never imagined I’d have to stand here and say goodbye to him so soon. It feels like just yesterday we were planning our future, dreaming of what was to come. And now… now all I have are memories.”

Kate’s voice broke. “I… I want you all to know that it’s okay to feel sad, to feel lost, to not understand. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to miss him. I will miss him every single day, but I also want you to carry his spirit with you. Play cricket, laugh, drink, act a fool, play pranks on each other, and, basically, just live your life and love doing it – just like Tom did.”

A wave of emotion washed over Kate, and she closed her eyes briefly, gathering herself before she opened her eyes and moved away from the safety and security of the lectern. She turned to the coffin and stepped closer. She placed a trembling hand on the polished wood and then leant forward, her lips softly pressing against the coffin as she kissed her soulmate goodbye.

“I am going to miss you every single day, for the rest of my life,” she said as a tear rolled down her cheek and her body shuddered with a sob. “I love you, Tom, and I always will. Thank you for being my everything. Until we meet again, my darling. Goodbye and God bless.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Bluebell Cottage,
Glendale

On the back patio, sitting on a wrought iron garden chair, Lee reclined with his head tilted back and his eyes closed as he welcomed the warmth of the sunshine on his face as a cold breeze rustled the leaves of an acorn tree nearby. He thought of Tom and of the tender moments they had shared – the initial frisson of lust that crackled between them, the stolen kisses and secret intimacy in the night, the way Tom would smile at him in the pub when he thought no one was watching. Lee knew in his heart that the love they had felt was real, but now it lay buried beside the man he adored as he was left to piece together his shattered heart.

The peal of church bells in the distance pulled him from his thoughts and signified that Tom’s funeral had come to an end. Lee opened his eyes and listened to the haunting tolls before burying his face in his hands and sobbing. He had been left to grieve alone, haunted by the memories of their time together, and denied the chance to say a final goodbye.

A determination swirled within, and, wiping his eyes, Lee rose to his feet. He needed to see Tom one final time. He needed to say goodbye.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

All Saints Church,
Glendale

Reverend Turner pushed open the heavy wooden doors and led the procession as Tom’s polished mahogany casket, adorned with a modest bouquet of white roses, was carried out of the church on the shoulders of Ben, Dan, Richard, and Tony. The four men, each one struggling with their emotions, moved slowly in unison, while the peal of the church bells sounded a final farewell.

The procession of solemn mourners followed in a silent, shuffling line. At the front, Kate stared at her husband’s coffin in quiet stoicism as she walked behind it, holding Harry and Noah’s hands as the two young boys walked with bowed heads, one on either side. Behind them, Ava’s chin quivered as she followed her father on his final journey.

Next in line, Carol clutched tightly to her mother’s hand as the two devastated women exited the church, both leaning on the other for support. Audrey walked with a slight stoop and seemed frail as she steadied herself with her walking stick, while behind them, Claire clutched a handkerchief – dampened with tears – tightly in her hand.

The congregation followed in a sombre convoy. The gravel of the pathway that led them to Tom’s final resting place crunched underfoot as they walked to the far side of the churchyard and converged under a large oak tree.

Abide with me, fast falls the eventide

The crisp September breeze rustled through the trees as the leaves, beginning to turn golden, whispered to the mourners that gathered around the open grave. A small Bluetooth speaker played “Abide with Me,” and the familiar hymn provided a haunting soundtrack to the sniffles and whimpers.

Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away

In quiet rows, the villagers of Glendale stood silently, dressed in their Sunday best with their heads bowed, as Tom’s casket was positioned on a wooden frame, ready to be lowered into the freshly dug grave. In the centre of the mourners, Kate dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. She was numb, unable to fully comprehend the gravity of this, the worst day of her life.

O Thou who changest not, abide with me

Reverend Turner stood at the head of the gathering and blessed the coffin one final time before Ben, Dan, Richard, and Tony adjusted the ropes and started to lower the casket. The gathered mourners watched in silence with a collective sense of finality as the coffin descended into the earth. Pamela trembled with grief as each verse of “Abide with Me” added a layer of poignancy to the moment. Her hands, encased in black leather gloves, clutched harshly to Brian’s forearm as she sought to steady herself.

Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?

“We have entrusted our brother to God’s mercy, and we now commit his body to the ground,” Reverend Turner began. “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

At the heart of the gathering, Audrey leaned on her walking stick heavily, her eyes moist. Her grandmother’s jewelled brooch adorned her thick black woollen coat, and it caught the faint rays of sunshine that filtered through the trees. Audrey seemed lost in thought, her gaze distant, as if she were remembering another time, another place. The sight of Tom in the barn haunted her, and it was something that she would never forget, yet never wanted to remember.

In the distance, partially hidden from the view of the mourners, Lee watched on, his eyes fixed on the descending coffin. A tear rolled down his cheek, but he didn’t wipe it away. Instead, he allowed his emotions to flow as he whispered a soft “goodbye” to the man he loved.

At the graveside, Brian caught sight of Lee in the distance beyond the trees. His nostrils flared as scorching anger ricocheted through his body. He, along with many others, laid the blame for Tom’s death solely at Lee’s feet, and he silently vowed never to let him forget it.

Reverend Turner continued. “In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our frail bodies, that they may be conformed to his glorious body, who died, was buried, and rose again for us. To him be glory for ever.”

“Amen,” said the gathered mourners in solemn harmony.

On the outer, Emma’s heart was heavy. She couldn’t help but feel that if it hadn’t had been for her pressuring Tom to reveal the truth, then maybe, just maybe, none of this would have happened.

Finally, it was time. Kate stepped forward, and with a trembling hand, she scooped some earth from the small golden pail Reverend Turner held and stretched an arm over Tom’s final resting place, allowing the dirt to slip through her fingers.

Overhead, a red-breasted robin – Tom’s favourite bird – produced a beautiful song, its sweet warbles catching Kate’s attention. As she looked up at the small creature, Kate’s chin quivered, and her mouth tightened. She took it as a sign that no matter where she went in life, Tom would always be with her. The robin chattered one final time and then took flight, flapping off into the distance before disappearing from sight.

“Goodbye, my love,” Kate whispered up to the heavens so softly that it was carried away on the breeze as a single tear broke free and rolled down her cheek. “I will always love you.”

In life, in death, o Lord, abide with me.

NEXT TIME…

• The fallout from Tom’s death continues to rock the village.
• Ben makes a reckless decision.
• A dark shadow from Glendale’s past is set free.