Ultimate Justice (11 page)

Jack took hold of Jalli's arm, “She's happy and content. She wants to step into her new world. She can see her white gate.”

“But this one is one way,” wept Jalli. “I have never been without her… ever.”

“No. But you've always known that she would move on one day. And maybe that day's arrived. It's Dang's turn now, and her children and her mum and dad and
her
grandma.”

“You're right. I know you're right. But I just don't want to let her go …”

“Of course not,” said the sister. “You love her.”

Jalli nodded.

Matilda spoke, “Can I ask a question?”

“Of course,” said Jalli.

“Sister, if you decide not to do the operation, what happens then?”

“She is being sustained by the drip. There is only so much of that we can do. One or two more bags and that will be it. Then she is on her own.”

“…and then she will die,” stated Jalli.

The sister nodded her agreement. Jack pulled Jalli closer to him.

“The children, they must be here, she cannot die without them seeing her!”

“That was what I was thinking,” said Matilda.

“We'll send a taxi for them,” said Jack. Then to the sister, “That's alright isn't it?”

“Of course. The bags will last an hour or two. I think you have made the right decision. You are very brave.”

Back beside Momori, Jalli took her grandma's hand. Momori opened her eyes and smiled again.

“You sure you don't want the operation?” asked Jalli. Momori nodded.

“You'll be alright. Your grandma's done a good job. You're a brave girl… sand,” she said, moving her hand towards Jalli's neck. “You've been to that beach again haven't you?”

Jalli smiled. “Can't keep anything from you, Grandma.”

“Did a good job, didn't I?”

“Sure did, Grandma,” said Jack.

“Oh, you. You're just prejudiced!”

“And so are you?”

The sister came in to say she had a message that the great-grandchildren were on their way.

Twenty minutes later, evening visiting had begun and the noise level in the ward had increased. It was fortuitous because it masked the sound of Kakko bursting through the doors of the ward demanding to see Grandma. The life and zest of the younger generation poured in. Their energy was in contrast to the stillness of the ward. A stillness that was, nevertheless, powerful and pregnant. As Shaun and Bandi caught up with their sister, a nurse hushed them and took them into the gentle silence of Grandma's room.

Momori was instantly aware and seemed to make an attempt to sit up. Kakko threw her arms around her.

“Gently,” pleaded her mother.

Inside the doors, Shaun and Bandi held back. They were timid and confused. Matilda went across to them.

“What are they doing to make her well?” asked Shaun.

Matilda explained. Shaun protested, but Bandi was more philosophical.

“She believes in heaven,” he stated.

“Of course, she has never had any doubt about that. You know the disasters in her life have led her to her faith. God is with her, she knows that. She keeps telling us she is going to see her husband. And I believe it.”

***

Momori died as the sun rose. The room was flooded with the dawn light and the sun's rays highlighted the tops of the waves on the sea, all the way to the horizon.

***

Pastor Ruk conducted the funeral in the local church, which was nearly full. Over the past twenty-two years, Momori had made a big impact on Joh. She had brought many people to the freedom of faith through her quiet witness. The pastor retold her story. Her happiness as a child and mother and young grandmother in a small village that no longer existed, and how her faith had brought her through that and subsequent traumas. Now Momori had accepted God's invitation to sail over the horizon into a new dimension where there was freedom and love beyond our wildest imagination. There, freedom and love, beauty, goodness and justice, peace and joy exist unsullied, unspoilt. And there Momori had gone, where even she would need to be cleansed and forgiven in order to enter. Momori was open to God.

“Meanwhile,” Pastor Ruk concluded, “back down here we have to get on with things. We have to be patient until
our
time comes and look after one another, and with God's grace be as good as we can be. Let us look forward to heaven while we enjoy the wealth of this planet – oh, and for those privileged ones among us,” he looked towards Jalli, Jack, Matilda, Kakko, Shaun and Bandi on the front row, “whatever planet God takes you to next!”

As Momori's body left for the crematorium, the congregation set out the party food. “We are sharing in Momori's heavenly banquet!” declared Ruk as he prayed over the heaps of sandwiches, pastries and cakes that Momori's friends had produced.

Somehow, to her surprise, Jalli did not cry that day. It was in the middle of the night that she wept silently into her pillow and then felt Jack's arm around her. She was safe, and so was her grandma – they were just not together. One day they would all be in the same place again. She knew that. You couldn't come through all that she and Grandma had done just on wishful thinking. She remembered what Momori had said to her in the hospital that evening, “You
want
me, but you don't
need
me.” She was right. And what's more she knew she wanted Jack now more than anything in the universe – but she didn't need him. She was, in one sense, already on her way to heaven. That's where they all belonged. Their real home, for all of them – Grandma, Jack, the children – was beyond all the horizons in all the universes.

It was an odd feeling – Momori not being in the cottage. It wasn't just that everyone missed her; it was that up until now they hadn't really understood how central she was to the family. There was a sort of vacuum in their home. A big Grandma-shaped gap. She had been the one who had quietly and naturally presided over them. They hadn't quite realised it before. Momori was just being herself. She hadn't been a dominating person, just wise, thoughtful and loving – the person that had kept everything together in times of crisis and who had naturally been the ‘doyenne' ever since.

Matilda felt awkward. From the beginning, Momori had drawn her into everything – been her friend and ‘sister', but now Matilda felt superfluous somehow. There was no way she could slip into Momori's role as a kind of matriarch; she wasn't that sort of person. Of course no-one rejected her or anything – it was just so different without Momori. Life was entirely transformed for her as much as any of the others. The others had jobs, college or school. But she and Momori had spent endless hours together, just the two of them, while the others were all busy.

Gradually over the following weeks, Matilda got into going to various events, and then, at the instigation of Ada Pippa, she went on outings with other ladies at the church and social clubs. She and Ada spent more and more time together with Matilda calling on her for afternoon tea at first, then morning coffee too, which gradually led into lunch. Ada almost never came to White Gates Cottage. It was much more cosy in Ada's little two-bedroomed town house. Her sitting room was
hers
; unlike Matilda, she didn't share it with a young family.

One day the two of them booked to go on an outing that got in late and Matilda stayed over with Ada. The grandchildren joked about Nan's ‘sleep-over', and teased her about the single men they went with on the trip.

“Nothing like that!” said Matilda horrified. “I gave up on men a long time ago.”

“So what about Ada?” laughed Kakko.

“Kakko. It may come as a surprise to you, but dating is not something that we are looking for. Ada had a good husband who has now gone on, and she's content with the knowledge that one day she will meet him again. Until then, we are more interested in the sea, the mountains or whatever else they are taking us to. And I am company enough for her. We don't need
men
! No offence intended to you of course,” she added, indicating Jack, Shaun and Bandi.

***

One day, about a month after Momori's funeral, Shaun came in from football practice looking really excited.

“What's got into you?” demanded Kakko.

“I'm in the first team next match!” he declared. “I've been selected to play in midfield.”

“But you like it up front?”

“I know. But there is no way I'm going to dislodge Rad or Gollip is there? They're brilliant.”

“Midfield though. It's different,” said Kakko.

“I spent this evening practising. I can come up front a bit when we're attacking. And I can score goals from deep.”

“But you've got to get the tackling and passing right,” said Kakko, “as well as fall back into defence. I've tried. I'm far better up front.”

“Yeah. But you wouldn't say no if you were offered a place in the first team?”

“I
am
in the first team!”

“Yeah, well. It's
my
first chance. And anyway, I
can
tackle. I'll practice on you!”

“Will you?” said Kakko ruefully.

But he did, over and over again on the lawn. Kakko was good but Shaun was getting better. He even persuaded Bandi to run around the ‘pitch' and laid off the ball to him after a successful tackle.

***

The day of the match came and all the family went to support Shaun. He looked resplendent in his red and yellow shirt.

“Nice colours,” observed Jalli.

“What? Claret and blue?” said Jack.

“No,” said Kakko knowing her father's history. “It's not West Ham United. You haven't followed them for ages. You've no idea now whether they're in the lower league of something!”

“They won't be. Not West Ham… but that's one thing I do miss being away from Planet Earth. I always followed the football… so what colour are they?”

“Scarlet with yellow under their arms. They look really clean and bright now but it won't last. Not if they play properly!”

The first half was rather scrappy by both sides, but as the game went on Shaun's team was beginning to make an impact. In fact, to the Smith family's delight, Shaun had made a couple of decent tackles and then landed an almost perfect pass that forced a great save from the goalkeeper. At the beginning of the second half Shaun had the measure of the opposition's forwards. The score was still nil-nil however, but most of the game was in the opposition's half. Coming forward Shaun connected with a lay-off but his shot was far too high, occasioning some jeers from the supporters.

“Keep your head over the ball,” advised his captain as they retreated for the goal kick.

“Thanks,” replied Shaun. “Just give me another chance!”

But then their rather clumsy centre forward broke through. He wasn't fast and Shaun came across to tackle him on the edge of the area but as soon as Shaun arrived next to him, he went down like a skittle and began rolling around in feigned agony clutching his foot. Shaun stood mesmerised as the referee awarded a free kick against him. He hadn't touched the man! Shaun was livid. He turned to the referee and protested his innocence but the referee just waved him away. Shaun pursued him, indignant, as the forward got up affecting even more pain. The referee took his position ten metres from the ball he had placed, and beckoned Shaun and his team back to his mark. They formed a wall with Shaun on the end.

Surprisingly quickly, the same man who had gone down so heavily recovered to take the free kick. It wasn't well taken. Shaun jumped as the ball was struck, but his arm was too far from his body and the wayward ball connected with his lower arm.

“Ball to hand,” yelled Kakko. But the referee was already pointing to the penalty spot.

The goalkeeper dived the wrong way and Shaun's team were one down against the run of play. Then Shaun did something rather silly. He again chased after the referee to complain the injustice of it all and, predictably, the ref produced a yellow card and warned him that more such behaviour would see him sent off. Shaun's captain came racing across and told Shaun to cool it.

After that, the reds struggled and Shaun's passing was not a patch on what it had been. His concentration was shot. After a poorly-timed tackle that could have got him a second yellow and the inevitable red, the coach pulled him off and substituted him. They lost one-nil.

The journey back to White Gates Cottage was not an easy one. Shaun was more sullen than Jalli had ever known him. He did not say a word and no-one else dared to either. Even Kakko thought better of complimenting him on his purple patch. She had been really impressed and felt that her brother seemed actually cut out for midfield, but she knew he wasn't ready to hear that – even from her.

That evening began equally painfully. Jalli couldn't help feeling that her grandma would have done something to ease the situation; she couldn't help remembering her weeks of depression following the Parmanda Park thing and how patient Grandma must have been with her. But Momori was no longer there. Shaun took himself to his room and Jalli resolved to break the tension and get them sorted for the evening meal. When it was ready she called for Shaun. When he didn't come, Jack decided to be firmer and demanded Shaun come for dinner.

“Even the street kids are not allowed to miss a meal,” he reminded him, “and besides it is your mum's attempt at beans the ‘Grandma way' and she needs your support.” Shaun came, but still wore his pout.

After various congratulations to Jalli on her beans, which were good but not the same of course, Kakko thought she would open the subject. She rushed straight in.

“That ref was totally out of order,” she stated. “It was clearly a dive. He needs to visit the optician.”

“It makes no fucking difference though does it?” swore Shaun.

“Shaun!” exclaimed Jalli. “I didn't know you knew that word!”

“Well, I do. And I'll use it again! The fact was that I got a
fucking
yellow for doing
fuck
all!”

Jalli began to cry.

Jack reacted. He was shocked to hear his son swear, and he was instinctively protective of Jalli. He rose to his feet…

Matilda tugged his arm, “Surely, it's only a game isn't it? It's not as if it matters.”

Shaun stood up clattering his chair against the cupboard, and stormed out of the room.

Jack put his arm around Jalli who now was really crying hard. Matilda sat stunned; she seemed to have stopped breathing. Bandi put his hand on hers and Kakko explained:

“That's what happens when you live in a world full of cheats and injustice. They generally win. I bet that stupid centre-forward is even claiming the credit for that goal. If Shaun hadn't jumped so well he would never have connected with it and the ball would have trickled out to the corner flag.”

Bandi said nothing. He was thinking,
What would Grandma do here?
He reasoned to himself, she would leave it twenty minutes and then go knock on his door with a cup of tea. Shaun would have opened to
her
and she would have just smiled at him. She might have said, if she had said anything, “Actually Shaun, the swearing apart, you are right. And your football's quite good,” and then leave him with the tea and say, “Your dinner's on the side when you feel like it. The others are all in the front room.”

Jack made to go to the door in pursuit of Shaun but Jalli held him back, “No leave him!” she said.

“But he can't…”

“Leave him!”

Jack relaxed, angry but obedient.

“Finish your dinner,” she ordered. Bandi picked up the chair.

After several minutes of silent eating, Matilda sighed, “Did I say anything wrong?”

“No,” said Jack. “It's the elephant in the room isn't it?”

“The what?” spluttered Kakko, her mouth full of beans. “I can't see an elephant!”

“That's the point,” said Matilda understanding exactly what Jack meant. She hadn't heard the expression since she had left England. “It's so big, but we're all trying not to see it.”

“You mean… Grandma?” ventured Bandi.

“Yes,” said Matilda.

“You mean Shaun is missing Grandma?”

“You could be right,” said Jalli. “He has been trying so hard to look after the rest of us that he's not had a chance to… to…”

“To grieve?” finished Jack. Jalli nodded.

“Everyone has been looking after me, and then Jack and Nan. That's what Ada's been doing isn't it?”

“Yes,” said Matilda. “She just lets me talk.”

“But Shaun has had no-one to talk to. Kakko says exactly what she thinks and I bet you've told all your friends about it.”

“Yes. And Bandi talks to God,” put in Kakko. “I've heard him pray. He even tells Grandma what he's been up to at school!”

“Kakko,” said Bandi, “you shouldn't be listening!”

“Well, it's hard not to when you pray so loud! But I bet Shaun never talks about his grandma with his football mates. They'd think him a wimp.”

“What are we going to do?” asked Matilda.

“Leave him… for a bit. I can't take any more just now,” said Jalli and began to cry again. Jack gathered her up in his arms and kissed her wet cheek. Bandi checked the time.

After the washing up was done it was almost twenty minutes later. The family moved to the sitting room with their mugs and Bandi quietly mounted the stairs. He took a mug of tea as if to take it to his own room, but instead knocked lightly on Shaun's door.

“Do you want some tea?” he asked softly. “I've got some here.”

To his surprise Shaun opened the door. A mug of tea was exactly what he wanted. “They've all gone to the sitting room. Your dinner's still in the kitchen if you want it. Do you want me to fetch it?”

“No,” said Shaun, and then, “thanks.”

“No trouble. I… I didn't get a chance to say this, but today you were actually quite good. Kakko thinks that too. She says you're a natural midfield player. And… when the coach pulled you off he said to get you off because he doesn't want you banned for next week…”

“The coach said that? All he said to me was to stop being stupid.”

“Because he wants you in the team next time, I suppose. Drink your tea before it gets cold. I've got mine downstairs.” Bandi turned to leave.

“Thanks,” said Shaun.

Thank you, Grandma
, said Bandi to himself as he skipped down the stairs.

***

The following morning Shaun was in a sweat about having to face his family. He had spent the middle of the night seeing his behaviour of the previous day from the outside. His indignation on the pitch, his stroppiness in the changing room and, above all, his behaviour towards his family. He kept seeing himself send the chair flying and storming out of the kitchen… and the look on his mother's face! He had really hurt her and none of it was her fault. He had taken out his anger towards that cheat of a so-called football player on his family. What his nan thought of him he dared not imagine. At first he told himself that hers had been an uncalled for remark. It
wasn't
just about football; it was more than that. It was the principle! Didn't she see that? But then around three in the morning it struck him. When his father was a year older than Shaun was now he had been a footballer, but then some monster had kicked his head in and stopped all his football and lots of other things, utterly changing his life. Perhaps that was what she was thinking. How did being the victim of a cheat on the pitch compare with what happened to his dad? He felt cold and bad.