Clarity by Claire Farrell Page A

Nathan led me up front to join Byron and Amelia. Byron nodded at me and took his turn at the top of the room, greeting everyone who showed up. There was a mixture of well-known faces and complete strangers, but it seemed as if everyone gazed in our direction.
    “Maybe I should sit somewhere else,” I said, glancing around nervously.
    “Don’t be stupid. You’re part of us now,” Nathan said abruptly, his good mood gone.
    I could hear the strain in his voice. I squeezed his hand, and a lot of tension left his shoulders.
    “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head.
    I didn’t mention sitting elsewhere again. I got the sense he needed me close by, and I guessed that Jakob hadn’t called. I tried not to feel angry about that. I ignored the staring and gazed about the room, wondering who had doused it in colour. The room was covered in flowers—not bunches, nor vases, but actual planters and flowerpots. The effect was unusual, but it made me feel more at home somehow, as though we weren’t at something solemn, as though it wasn’t the end of anything.
    It took at least fifteen minutes for everyone to be seated, and I wondered what was going to happen. Nathan hadn’t been very forthcoming, and I would have felt awkward asking him twenty questions about it.
    The room quieted somewhat, and I glanced behind me to see Byron heading for us, his face paler than usual. A bearded Jakob came after him, closely followed by a young man I had never seen before. That one stared right at me with a funny look on his face, and Nathan’s fingers gripped mine hard.
    “Ouch,” I hissed. Nathan loosened his fingers, flexing them repeatedly. “You okay?” I whispered, unable to understand the new tension in his shoulders.
    He nodded, keeping his eyes on the others, and a shudder ran through me.
    The three men sat in the row of chairs across from ours, and an old man with glasses stood and walked to the front of the room. He smiled at everyone and thanked them for coming before speaking about Lia . He seemed to have known Lia well, because he began with a couple of memories of her, sweet ones designed to make us all laugh rather than cry. He called a few people forward, and they all gave their own little speech about Lia . There was nothing religious about it, more like a group of friends sharing memories.
    The weird tension left the air, and the event became something special. By the time it was over, I felt a warmth that had been missing since Lia’s death. The shock was a little less raw, the guilt a little less suffocating. Amelia cried, but it wasn’t that mournful cry that made me feel as though her world had just ended.
    I enjoyed the memorial more than I expected. I liked how it made me feel, and for a while, I forgot all about the things that had been dragging me down. It was nice to get to know Lia in a different way, through the eyes of others. I knew it would help the whole family fit in, with neighbours getting to experience a slice of her life. Rumours had been spreading about Nathan’s family recently, but the stories told at the memorial would hopefully give them a chance to be part of the community.
    We all walked to the graveyard afterward, each of us carrying a flowerpot. It was a strange procession, but it touched me deeply.
    Nathan had been in a foul mood since his grandfather had shown up, and Amelia shrugged when he walked ahead to join some of his friends from school. The boys had turned up after the match. They hadn’t won, so that was probably the reason for their sombre moods. I couldn’t tell what was going on with Nathan, and I didn’t really care to work out what his mood swing meant.
    We laid our flowers around Lia’s grave. I helped Amelia take some to an abandoned section of the graveyard because she didn’t want the older graves to be left barren.
    “Well, how would you like to be forgotten?” she asked sharply when I raised a brow.
    More tears were shed, someone sang a song, and then we all went