Late
© Oonah V Joslin
Clive cursed the dark morning. He had somewhere to be – a rare occurrence these days. But he lay on, thinking what to wear… ‘white shirt – always acceptable, charcoal suit – very smart, still fitted too, black tie with the little diamond pattern – elegant. Yes – must get up.' He couldn't think what the occasion was. Forgetfulness was far more common than somewhere to be.
‘Damn, look at the time!' He must have dozed. Clive made a great effort of will. Luckily his arthritis wasn't playing up. He cut his routine to the bare minimum, and stepped out into the morning air. The path was slippery with fallen leaves on light frost. A bus passed the road end just as he got there. Drivers used to stop when a regular passenger waved - not these days. He flicked two fingers. He tried to hail a passing cab but the driver ignored him, probably on a call-out. A brisk walk would do him good. It was all downhill anyway.
Clive walked as fast as he could. It was just over a mile and normally that would have left him breathless but he'd slept so well and the air was invigorating. Tatters of brown and ochre foliage still clung to trees, twisting, hanging, occasionally dropping onto the russet, yellow carpet at his feet. Beautiful, he thought to take an early walk amid such splendour.
Around the next bend, rose the spire of Saint Jude's. There was no sign of activity. This was the right time and the correct day, yes - Tuesday. Ah, there was someone, by the door.
“Excuse me, Sir.”
“You're early, Clive.”
“Should I know you, Sir? You seem to have the advantage of me.”
“No.”
“I could've sworn it was nine I was to be here.”
“Yes, but it's only eight. The clocks went back…on Sunday morning.”
“But this is Tuesday. I can't have slept all that time. Well, if the door's open, maybe we could talk inside because it's cold and I...”
“Or you could come with me, Clive. The family will begin gathering soon. You don't really want to hang about here, do you?”
“I'd better stay if I'm expected - though I can't quite remember the occasion.”
“It's your funeral , Clive.”
“If you're trying to be funny…”
“Your body won't be here for nearly an hour but you don't have to stay. This isn't for you, Clive. It's for them . Come along with me.”
It was only then that Clive realized the man was wearing white.