Throughout the funeral I saw her swooping over fields, laughing, arms outstretched, doing double backflips; that was the Jeanetta I knew. Elegant and social. In jeans, outside, hair tousled. It was supposed to be a private gathering, just her family and her closest friends but then it grew and I got the call and my Friday which was supposed to be have been in London with Beth, and lunch at my brother’s changed shape. As did theirs, also by death. Beth flew to New Orleans for two funerals and my brother stayed in Scotland for a third.
Bright sunlight after weeks of rain, the church heating had packed up and within that stone, black coats and breath, friends she’d been at school with, the stained glass tinted grey hair blue. Her brothers and sisters and children; the red of their genetic code flowing to her grandchild in quick bought mourning suit. St John the Baptist on a steep hill, as I parked there were worries of brakes and mud. Gloves were slipped on. Boots and heels trod carefully. The village hall was locked and echoes of Is there anywhere? and I think I’ll last took turns like the baton in an over sixties relay race to last through the service. A few of us joked about squatting behind a gravestone.
It was sad. Jonny, Kelvin and I grouped together. A small dog, Roxanne, with feather soft coat sat in the pew in front of us and gave me regular doe eyes. We sang the hymns of childhood and, though God knows the Christians have a lot to answer for, their music is a steady trunk to lean against. Jerusalem rose and fell between us. The eulogies were almost impossible to get through. Her leaving in wicker coffin caused a crumpling throughout. But being Jeanetta, when the ancient doors were opened for her carriage and us to follow, the streaming beams of pure piercing sunny blinding winter sunshine elevated everything to presence. It was her. And we sobbed past the ancient yew tree and held arms in the clutter of her leaving, and the black Land Rover that took her body away shone and I told Kelvin I had seen her flying.
There was a wake. There was coffee and champagne and sausage rolls and an open fire. A man called Leopold told me he never remembers faces or names, even as a child. His whole life wondering if he’d met this person before. His grandson led him away. I won’t forget his name or his face. I led Kelvin away eventually and we talked non-stop all the way to Shepherd’s Bush where he jumped out and I parked and checked in to my hotel. Two nights in London. Supper at Louise’s. Jacko walked me home.
Met Anna on the heath, got lunch at the Tabernacle with Jacobi working - the first time I’ve seen him in grown up adult action; how it touched my heart. Navigated the heaving crowds of Portobello to get coffee and two hours of joy with D then back again to the Tabernacle to meet Margaret and all for the panto.
West London has a look. I’m probably it without knowing it, just like everyone else. Men in flat caps and women in toreador velvet hats. Kookiness and boots. Weathered party skin and straw man hair as if they’ve just stood up from rolling about in a field. I watched and drank water and watched and felt the eyes of not being enmeshed in the throng and carried on watching. A child in tutu lay on the floor without caring. Star-shaped limbs, eyes closed. I dragged her closer to my chair to keep her head safe from the pints and legs and adults at the bar.
Aidan turned up and got a ticket despite the show being sold out. It was talent and voice and west London history. It was belonging to a place. I lost my footing in the interval and cried trying to hide it while the bar filled and the loos queued. Grief continues despite golden lions and pride in Lily who put the stage together. I’m still out at sea, no land in sight.
Lunch with E on Sunday at Dorian which used to be Raoul’s and is now more chi-chi than you can shake a celebrity stick at. We ate beautifully. I drove home. I slept.
Happy Christmas everyone,
Love
Eleanor
p.s. …..
FALLOUT got Editor’s Pick in Publisher’s Weekly! 4th in a row for Empress Editions ✨👑 . Hugely proud to be part of the team led by Alisa Kennedy Jones. Thanks fellow Empresses. You’re the best. We’re running a simultaneous UK / US release for 21st April 2026, so wherever you are, you can pre order your copy now…
