The Radical (Unity Vol.1) (9 page)

‘You’ve just
had your heart broken, my love,’ she chided me.

I might have
spiraled into another round of crying, so I attempted to walk off my pain, pacing the creaky floorboards.

‘Do you know what happened to Tom?’

I gazed down on her but judged she wasn’t reacting at all. That spelled it out for me – Camille was the bearer of my aunt’s secrets and had been instructed in their safekeeping. I doubted she would give them up, for neither love nor money.

‘I never even knew his name until I saw this. By the way, where did you find it?’
she asked, her hands clasped together on her lap.

‘Underneath the floorboards as I came down from the loft.’

‘I never used to like going up in that loft for her, it always gave me the creeps. Was there nothing of interest up there?’

‘Not
much. A photo. Then this stuff under the floor.’

‘Hmm,’ Camille mustered contemplatively, biting her lip.

It didn’t seem right to press her. She was grieving too, clearly. I would find out the truth for myself, I decided.

Eve’s life
was proving to be just another unsolved case to add to the pile… yet, I still felt that my trip was fated.

‘She was s
o passionate, wasn’t she? I just can’t comprehend any of that. It’s not her at all, not the Eve I knew.’

‘It’s incredible, but I believe it.’

Oh, I bet
…

I knew Camille would give up nothing without a fight and she was more than my equal, so instead I let my mind wander.

‘Eve never spoke of her childhood. In fact I pressed her on it occasionally, you know, if conversation dried up and my mind turned to trying to figure her out. I always sensed it was a no-go. Like, she may have had a hard life at some point, though she tried not to show it. There are still so many gaps in the story,’ I surmised wearily.

Camille took
a few moments for contemplation and decided, ‘For now Seraph, you should feel very lucky. She was an immense spirit, and you should feel extremely grateful to have been so close to her, to have known her even. We both know there are terrible things to come, if we are ever to right a few wrongs in this world. We must remember that there was once love, and family, and righteousness. Your heritage is a rich one,
chérie
.’

That day
passed into nothingness. How time wasted under spent contemplation. I was not used to it. I filled minutes with dozens of tasks usually, but the eve of my treasured aunt’s funeral had descended into tears, disbelief and on my part, a weakening of spirit.

‘What now Camille? What do I do?’

‘We say goodbye and hope that more answers are forthcoming.’

I knew Camille was holding on to the hope that she wouldn’t be forced to do Eve
’s dirty work. Meanwhile I secretly wished there was nothing else to face. Yet I knew there had been a web of secrecy surrounding my relative that needed unraveling. It would have to be picked apart and the fact that Eve’s resistance force were embroiled in this made the reality all the more clear. There were lives in danger and I was facing a crossroad.

Camille
kissed my forehead and told me she slept in the flat next door and to call on her if I needed anything during the night.

I
retrieved a flash meal from the kitchen and was thankful I couldn’t taste a thing, I was too numb. I feebly hoped it would all look better in the morning. So I crawled into Eve’s bed fully clothed, wrapping the covers around me, trying to absorb some of my aunt’s presence. I needed to feel a connection to someone, or something, which might give me comfort. Closing my eyes, I pictured Eve and Tom so happy on their wedding day, and fell into an instant deep sleep.

I
slept so deeply that when I woke, I shot up with a start, having entirely forgotten I had crawled into bed there the previous night. Everything looked different that morning and I was comforted seeing Eve’s surroundings staring back at me. As if telepathically, Camille knocked on the door holding coffee and toast in her hands.

‘Morning. Feel better today?’

‘Much, much better, thanks.’ I even managed a smile.

Camille had
dressed in a pink, fitted dress that showcased an impressive figure for a woman of her age. After she sat down at Eve’s dressing table in the corner, Camille produced her xGen and appeared to be engrossed with something. Her sleeveless dress revealed extremely defined muscles in her arms – and she wore full make-up, her hair loose and straightened – and I kind of saw her appeal. I mean… I’d heard noises from the flat next door all night and had thought them a part of my dreams, but evidently as she sat there, she had enjoyed a good time.

‘
I guess you were more careful when Eve was around? You know? Thin walls and all?’ I teased her.

She didn’t
respond but raised an eyebrow and continued to be ensconced in her messages, or whatever.

She was stunning, quite simply. It was a waste of good Parisian breeding that she was stuck in
York.

‘I don’t have to make an effort too, do I? I think I could just about manage jeans and a t-shirt today.’

Camille shot me a look of unacceptability. ‘You are the niece of Eve Maddon. Plus, we need to show the world what we are made of, remember?’

‘Fine. I’ll throw something on then.’

‘We’d better leave soon Seraph, it starts in an hour. Hop in the shower and I’ll get some items from the wardrobe for you that should fit. I’ll leave them out and you can meet me downstairs when you’re ready.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ I saluted
, before heading off to the bathroom.

An hour later, we clung to each other as we made our way into the Minster – a gargantuan Gothic, medieval marvel that looked unreal against the background of the ruined city. Some of the shop staff trailed behind, but a lot of them had been forced to stay on back at the complex.

Camille had thrown on a little matching jack
et to go with her dress and I noticed many of the other guests also wearing similar, sophisticated clothing.

S
o this is more like a gathering of UNITY
, I thought.

‘I’m giving the eulogy. Remember, as far as the world is concerned, she
was Eve Maddon, bridal designer,’ she warned, whispering under her breath, ‘our enemies are not beyond us, even in here.’

‘Understood,’
I smiled and nodded.

I
found a seat near the front of the packed-out Minster and noticed almost every seat taken and several hundred people also stood in the aisles, corridors and wings of the venue. Every shade of the rainbow splashed the congregation.

Camille chose
my attire well (a violet skirt suit) and miraculously everything fitted perfectly. It felt as if what few creative people remained in the world all sat in that place, saying goodbye to the owner of one of the last bridal couture houses. The funeral guests’ whispers, rustling and breathing was deafening; the house of worship was that full. Even the sun had broken out, shining through the ancient stained-glass windows so that magnificent rainbows fell across Eve’s casket at the front.

A
protestant minister oversaw the service and seemed overwhelmed to see so many in his church. No hymns were sung – but there was one lengthy reading from the bible about love:
1 Corinthians 13, vv1-13
.

A tear crept into the corner of my eye and I failed to hold it back. The words moved me greatly. I
had never heard anything biblical recited in such impressive surroundings before and the acoustics inside seemed to reverberate and accentuate its meaning.

I
sensed Eve was sending a message from beyond the grave. A sense of dread washed over me and I knew something terrible must have happened to Tom for Eve to have been separated from him. He was obviously a man of substance and decency and Eve would not have let him go easily.

When it came to the eulogy,
Camille took to the pulpit with a typed bit of paper in her hands:

‘Friends of Eve… I hope that my words express what we’re all feeling today. Sad, but thankful. As you know, she didn’t have much family. Her only remaining relative is Seraphina, si
tting at the front there, her great-niece.’

I sank in my seat.
Thanks Camille
.

‘D
espite her lack of blood relatives, she always felt that the people who came through the doors of her shop became members of her family. Eve wasn’t married herself, but she loved the idea of marriage and provided many of her customers with sage advice. She would go the extra mile to get to know her customers personally and would know soon enough what kind of gown would suit a lady within minutes of meeting them.’

I
noticed a woman sitting by my side, nodding in agreement with everything Camille said. The eulogy continued, ‘The only thing I feel sad about today is that I wish I’d known Eve longer. The past 20 years under her tutelage have been remarkable, but another 20 wouldn’t have gone amiss. Despite this, we should celebrate Eve’s long life. She was eternally happy, sometimes temperamental, but always of good humor!’

A few laughs were raised among th
e congregation.

‘Many people who knew her as a young woman have passed, and one thing I’ve always wondered is, what was she like? I would love to have known her then. She was still so vibrant in later life, who knows what prowess she had back then as a younger woman? I imagine she began life fighting, as she certainly went out fighting, refusing to give in to old age until she ultimately had to.

‘She wasn’t someone who boasted about her abilities. She didn’t go to a renowned design school or study underneath one of the world’s greats. She was a self-taught oddity, someone who was born to be great, someone who had an eye for detail. She had an extraordinarily steady hand, a generous heart and a god-given way with a sewing machine. She knew exactly how important a woman’s wedding day was. She got it right every time. She touched so many people’s lives and that is what she called her life’s work. Working with her was like embarking on the greatest ride of your life, never wanting to get off. I only have one thing left to say… thank you for being you, Eve.’

With that, Camille
wiped a few tears from her eyes and was helped from the stand by a member of her staff. Then everyone got up to applaud.

A shudder ripped through my body and tears fell without shame. Grief swamped me and I couldn’t move. Wh
at was I to Eve? Just her great-niece. Just someone who harassed her late at night with calls about my worthless, spent existence. I felt if I stood up, I would fall straight back down. This interference in the way I lived and survived was unacceptable. I was beginning to
feel
.

How
did she dedicate her life to the institution of marriage when she herself had once found such great love, only to lose it? I could see so many gaps in Eve’s story. I had so many questions still to be answered.

When the congregation
emptied, Camille and I were the only ones left behind. Without words, she helped me up and we walked away in knowing silence.

Eve’s wicker casket was quietly interred
without pomp or ceremony. Camille and I were the only ones in attendance, along with a couple of members of the bridal house. I wanted to bawl my eyes out but I restrained myself, simply allowing silent tears to wash away the make-up that was fast sliding off my face. Camille’s words swam around my mind and I tried to maintain some dignity and grace, but anyone present would have seen my body convulsing and my shoulders unable to stay upright.

A street
party on the Shambles was the wake. Pianists, violinists, fiddlers, guitarists and trumpeters played upbeat music. Dozens of tables were piled with cakes and sandwiches. Camille noticed my shocked look and explained, ‘I know and what’s even more amazing is that Eve organized everything herself a few months ago.’

As soon as we got to the shop Camille was dragged away to attend to some matter and
I sat alone on the doorstep, surveying the scene. Hundreds of women and men larked about, dancing to the music and drinking the abundance of cheap wine that someone had brought along by the caseload. It was not like a funeral had just taken place. This was totally indulgent – and was Eve’s doing for sure. I watched the people and wished I shared some of their carefree ways. As I veered into thought, all feeling of fear or trepidation about what the future held evaporated. I felt only sadness.

Sat picking at my plate of food, I still wondered
what could have possibly happened to tear Tom and Eve apart. Whatever occurred must have affected Eve greatly, only she obviously never showed it. The conjecture was hurting my brain so much I could barely concentrate on anything else. I had been naïve in thinking I knew everything about a woman who had lived 80 years.

‘Seraph!
’ It was Camille, standing behind me at the door, holding a large envelope in her hand.

‘What
?’

I noticed she looked pensive.

‘I just received a recorded delivery… it must be the will,’ she revealed, her eyes foretelling some revelation I probably didn’t want to hear. ‘Let’s go inside and read it together.’

In Camille’s office, she held the papers in her hands. She had already read through them herself, dabbing a few tears from her eyes while she absorbed it all.

‘Well?’ I demanded
, waiting impatiently.

‘The shop she left to me,’ she said, scanning the pages, ‘she also gave some to charity and the rest she left to you
…’

‘To me?’

‘Yes, everything.’

I felt totally unable to move. O
ne cold, solitary drop fell from my eye without any encouragement or provocation. Camille covered my hand with her own but it didn’t offer any comfort.

Eve remembered me
.

‘…
it amounts to 2.5 million ED.’

That figure seemed like crazy talk. I looked her in the eye and she nodded. It was true.

‘I don’t understand… how she could have had so much wealth and have stayed in this shit hole!’

I was almost screeching. Camille shot me a look and I
threw her an apologizing one in return.

‘
I don’t know.’

‘You do know. You just won’t tell me.’

Damn I needed liquor.

‘
She left you this letter,’ Camille held it out in front of me.

The envelope was luxurious, made from some sort of thick recycled
paper, fastened shut with a strange wax seal. I handled it carefully.

I watched Camille going through the rest and she explained,
‘The lawyers are already working on getting you the funds… according to this accompanying note.’

Confused an
d still disbelieving, I felt a little numb… as if money and bricks and mortar, and security for the rest of our lives, was no recompense for the fact that Eve was actually gone.

I
’d had no time to prepare for her loss, yet she had gone about organizing her will and that mad wake outside. No-one could have realized how her death would affect them, least of all me.

I
wanted to know more, to learn everything, to have more than just a load of money and an inexplicably annoying love letter suggesting a family torn apart! Remembering the paper in my hands, I realized,
there has to be more in here
. Thinking quickly, I turned to Camille.

‘Ar
e you gonna be okay? It’s just that, I think I might go up to the flat and read this letter. I think I might need to be alone to do that.’