~

'This is fascinating', she thought. Then, a little while later, 'I need a pee.' Such irreverent things fluttered through her mind, occupying her grey matter cells as Ant's coffin lay on the altar at the front of the hall. She assumed it was an altar, anyway. Never having frequented a 'normal' church, she wasn't really sure. Colleen and Bill came in, with a tall boy she had never seen before, but who bore such a resemblance to Ant that it had to be his brother Thomas. Colleen looked terrible, as could be expected. More than terrible, she thought; positively Glaswegian. The thought made her smile, and she glanced around guiltily. More than a couple of times already she had been in danger of giggling, and she was sneaking another clandestine glance at her watch when a rotund reverend approached the pulpit and began to speak.

It was obvious that he was trying not to cry. Colleen was shaking; shaking like the woman she had once known who shook all the time. Like a Polaroid picture, thought the girl, and the song started playing again in her head. At least it was all on a theme, she pondered, as Hey Ya was replaced with Big Girls Don't Cry. Not that she was going to cry, of course; it wasn't her style. Thinking of Ant dead... well, people did die, didn't they? It was a fact of life. He hadn't been the closest of friends; she'd lost far more precious people in her time; and she stood by her belief that losing people who were still alive was far worse than losing people to death. For death brought with it no apprehension, no uncertainty, no prospect of subsequent unexpected reunion. Thinking of Leila or Sidhe hurt far more than thinking about Ant, though in a different way.

Despite convincing herself she was entirely unaffected, she was pleased and comforted when Steve walked past, resting his hand on her arm for a moment and glancing at her just long enough for her to know he was there if she needed him. She knew it had been Bernadette really, the reason why she had been taken in to the family, but Steve had accepted her more than willingly, and for this she was very grateful. Bernadette wasn't there: a good thing, really, for she was one of those people in front of whom she would have felt ashamed about appearing too strong. Though Bernadette would not have been surprised, she thought, as the music started and people began exiting the building. Cutting through the crowd, she scuttled off to where Carys was waiting in the car, still as dry-eyed as she had been for a long time now.