Deadly Silence (complete) Chapter 13

“Gabe and Laurent are here,” he told Vivian as he tucked his phone away in an inner pocket of his suit jacket. “Other people are also starting to arrive, so I need to go play greeter. Are you okay here by yourself for now?”

A little confused by his question, Vivian could only nod in confirmation before he left her sitting alone at the table.

Now that she was alone in the room, Vivian found herself on her feet in front of the podium, hand reaching out to touch the box that contained her mother.

Like she’d guessed, there was no connection when her fingers brushed against the wood, tracing the details carved into it with care before withdrawing her hand. A great sadness settled over her heart, as heavy as an elephant as she returned to her seat. If she was lucky, everyone would ignore her and the service would be over before she knew it.

People began to trickle in, taking seats or milling about to speak in soft voices.

It was two thirty by the time her brothers came to sit at the table with Vivian, who was feeling more awkward by the second as everyone seemed to be both watching and ignoring her at the same time. She could feel countless eyes on her but whenever she glanced around no-one was looking her way.

Was she being paranoid? She hadn’t been around this many people at once in a very long time and it was making her antsy.

“Yo, Viv,” Gabriel greeted her, taking the seat to her left. “Still hanging in there?”

She only nodded, not trusting her voice.

“Good, good. Dad should be in soon and they can get this started.”

Hadn’t it already started?

As if on cue, Samuel appeared in the crowd, slowly making his way towards his children as people stopped to chat with him as he passed.

It took him a good ten minutes to cross the room, where he stopped just behind his youngest son, placing his hands on Laurent’s shoulders much to the boy’s dismay.

“Looks like this should be it for now,” he told his family with a smile that looked a bit forced. His mind seemed to be elsewhere as he gave Laurent’s shoulder another pat before moving to stand by the podium, picking up a microphone that had been placed there for just this purpose.

It didn’t take long for the crowd of people to fall silent after Samuel cleared his throat and tapped the mic with his finger twice. “Thank you, everyone, for making the time to honour the memory of Annie Devreaux, wife, mother, sister, daughter, aunt, and so much more. I won’t speak long. Today is about celebrating the life of this amazing woman, to share our favourite memories of the brief time she spent in each of our lives.

“Should you feel the desire, the mic is open to anyone wanting to do this. Thank you, again.”

Setting the mic down, the room gave Samuel a polite round of applause as he stepped down, joining his family at their table.

An elderly woman shuffled forward to take the mic, batting away the helping hand of a man who looked a bit older than Samuel.

“That’s Gran Gran, mom’s mom,” Gabriel whispered to Vivian, who had been wondering who they were. “The man is Stan, mom’s oldest brother. He’s a bit of a twat, but not a bad person.”

“How is a twat not a bad person?” She found herself asking. Gabriel seemed to have a knack at getting her to talk.

“Mmm, think of it like being a nice asshole. He’s got a sharp tongue, but will give you the shirt off his back… sorta.”

Vivian wanted to ask more but Gran Gran had begun to speak, voice quavering with age as she recounted seeing Annie for the first time after being born. None of it interested Vivian; she’d spent too much time distancing herself from others that feeling sympathy for someone wasn’t easy.

Empathy was easy enough, if she understood how it felt to go through something specific, but someone she’d never met before telling the story of meeting their child for the first time just didn’t move her in the least — even knowing that said child was her own mother.

After Gran Gran shuffled away, another person took the stand, then another. Gabriel explained who each was to Vivian in whispers. An aunt by marriage, a cousin twice removed, some friend from school he couldn’t remember the name of but knew their mom had been close to them until graduating high school…

The list went on, names blurring into gibberish as Vivian half listened to the stories, the rest of her attention on the people at the tables or milling about.

Though someone always seemed to be speaking on the stage, quiet conversations were being held throughout the crowd.

From the looks of it, Vivian’s extended family was much larger than she’d imagined. Unsure how to feel about this, she switched her train of thought to the people dressed in white shirts and black pants who were holding serving trays with drinks or finger foods.

Was there usually catering at a memorial service? No one else seemed to be questioning it, though, so Vivian figured either it was normal or people just expected it from her family. After that shopping trip she was beginning to think Samuel was a bit extra in regards to certain things.

One by one her brothers stood up and meandered away, Samuel excusing himself at one point to do a circuit of the room — he was technically the host, as were his boys — so they needed to make sure to chat with everyone. This was, after all, about their loss.

A tutting noise came from behind Vivian and she glanced over her shoulder to see a middle aged woman standing in front of the photo, arms crossed over her ample bosom, a look of frustration on her face. She wore a black dress that complimented a figure she obviously worked hard to maintain, with her hair, makeup and even nails perfectly done.

Vivian thought she looked ready to go to a wedding instead of a memorial service, but who was she to judge when she hadn’t a clue on the dress code, and a black dress was always in style, right?

The woman caught Vivian watching her, and pursed her lips a bit before stepping closer. “Have you also been brainwashed?”