Death at Delphi

2. The funeral

So she would not see Caroline again. As the first earth was cast, they stood huddled together a little awkwardly a short distance from the family.

"Christ I hate funerals," Cade said. "I wish they would do private burials. It can't make it any easier for them, having us all here. They don't even know us."

Francis Cade. Now Cade Chetwynd, aspiring actor. He had taken the name from one of their professors, more for the alliteration than the tribute.

It was Cade who had rung her, soon after she had arrived home, to tell her the news. Caroline had been killed in a diving accident. No more than a day after Jayne had seen her, from what she could work out. So unexpected and so terribly sad.

They watched as dark-clad figures, blurred with grief, were led away. No one should outlive their own child.

"I suppose we'd better head to the wake. Do you think we should give it another twenty minutes or so, or would they prefer we arrived as soon as possible and got it over with?"

It was the worst place for a reunion. But they stood together, six of the eight. Alongside Jayne and Cade there was John Lambert, the son of a prominent barrister, practically called to the bar from his cradle and already showing signs of his father's brilliance. Amanda Charles, very bright, forthright and a first class hockey player, currently worked in Westminster. Lucy Easterby-Jones, the ingénue of the group, was employed by a leading auction house. And finally Aubrey Fellowes, antiques lover and aesthete, who produced Arts programming for the BBC. Aubrey's waistcoat and cravat were the most sombre Jayne had ever seen him wear.

The only person missing was Rory Ellis, a former rugby blue, who now worked for an international energy company. He hadn't been able to make it as he was overseas as usual.

They had all done so well and she had done nothing.

Jayne found herself standing with Cade again. She had always been closest to him and he was the only one she'd stayed in touch with to some extent, he sent her theatre bills every so often and invitations to London.

"That's the brother," Cade said, indicating a young man with a round face and rather floppy hair. He was surprisingly tall, his face looked as though it would be better matched with a shorter figure.

"He's Harry, isn't he?" she said, remembering Caroline talking of her family.

"You were always brilliant with names. Go on, see if you can guess her name." Cade pointed to a thin, dark haired girl, rather pretty in a pointy-faced way, standing near Harry. "I heard her introduce herself earlier. You can have a clue. It starts with V."

"Oh Cade, I honestly wouldn't know," Jayne said. Her gift with names had become something of an in-joke, after a party game where she had matched names to faces with surprising accuracy. It was mainly luck, she thought.

Yet she found herself mulling over the possibilities. "Not a Venetia. Definitely not a Virginia. Probably not a Veronica. A Verity, perhaps, or a Victoria. Not a Vivienne." She rather hoped it wasn't Verity. It was a name she liked and somehow she did not like the look of this girl.

Cade raised his eyebrows. "You really are good. It's Victoria. Goodness, I wonder who that is, I didn't see him at the burial."

Caroline looked over to an even taller man than Harry, blond, with strikingly attractive looks. "That might be the cousin, though I can't remember his name. I do remember she had a cousin she was very fond of." More of a hero-worship in fact, though seeing him now Jayne could hardly blame Caroline for her cousinly adoration. Poor Caroline.