Four Weekends & a Photograph (WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 21

Nanna's funeral was scheduled for the last Saturday in January. This gave parents time for all the arrangements, for invitations to be sent out and returned, and for Wynonna to get home. We'd not spoken since before Christmas, can't even remember if we exchanged texts what with everything going on. I was back at Oxford, the start of the new term, Nicole busy with her job in London, the weekend of the funeral not one to be relished.

Nicole arrived at the student accommodation block shortly after nine on the Friday. She looked drained following a long day in the office then the drive to Oxford. Chrissy was waiting in my room, her weekend bag sitting by the door in readiness. She would be dropped off first at Queenie's, her whole family attending the funeral the next day. Another migraine had made its presence known, sensible this time to have taken my medication early in case the car journey had me puking for the umpteenth time in front of Nicole.

She hardly said a word as we headed south towards Basingstoke, branching off just before Newbury, making a detour to Monk Sherborne to deposit Chrissy at her house. A cavernous silence remained as we headed to Wallop, not sure what was wrong, sensing something was definitely wrong, sensing Nicole didn't want to be there. I assumed it was Nanna's funeral. Not that she really knew Nanna, but maybe funerals weren't her thing after her mother's death. Something was clearly off.

Wynonna was in the study with Mops and Pops. That's where we always went if we were having a serious conversation. Nicole said she'd take our bags up to my room, two bedrooms no longer required. Not that either parent had said as such. My sister was tanned, and toned, and still looked as relaxed as she had in Greece. Mops also looked a little happier than when I'd last seen her at Christmas.

"I'm coming home baby girl," Wynonna announced.

"Fantastic. When?"

"Now. I've already applied for a few positions in London."

"That's great. Nicole will be over the moon."

"Can't get hold of her."

"She's here."

Wynonna's head tilted to one side, her eyes studying my face. "What?"

It was as if the air had been sucked out of the tiny room in which we were congregated. "I'm..."

"Waves, why is she here?"

"Wyn, we're..."

"Do not tell me you're together."

All I could do was nod. My sister's expression morphed from confusion to shock, no one saying anything, everyone looking at each other. Seconds felt like hours as we waited for someone, anyone to speak. Mops eventually broke the tension. "Why don't we all have a nice cup of tea?"

"Where is she?"

"My...my bedroom."

Wynonna brushed past. "So not having this."

"Wyn wait. What's going on?"

"Not a word from her. Not a single fucking word."

"Wynonna!" Mops shouted after her. "Language."

Nicole was sat on the edge of the bed typing on her phone when Wynonna stormed in, me in close pursuit. "Well."

"Hi."

"Don't you hi me. One bloody text, that's all. One single bloody text. Or, a phone call would have been nice."

"Err, okay."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Err..."

"Wyn, it's my fault. I didn't want...I only told Mops the morning Nanna died."