BooksBarbecue
Back A Terrible Kindness Save as PDF

A Terrible Kindness

Jo Browning Wroe
Chapters (77)
  1. Landing Page
  2. A TERRIBLE KINDNESS
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. ABERFAN
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. CAMBRIDGE CHOIR
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. FAMILY BUSINESS
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. MIDNIGHT CHOIR
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. 58
  67. ABERFAN
  68. 59
  69. 60
  70. 61
  71. 62
  72. 63
  73. 64
  74. 65
  75. Acknowledgements
  76. About the Author
  77. Copyright
Cover: A Terrible Kindness by Jo Browning Wroe

Landing Page

Jo Browning Wroe

A TERRIBLE KINDNESS

Dedication

For the embalmers who went to Aberfan and for the people they went to help

Contents

  1. Title Page
  2. Dedication
  3. Part I: Aberfan
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. Part II: Cambridge Choir
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. Part III: Family Business
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. Part IV: Midnight Choir
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. Part V: Aberfan
  66. 59
  67. 60
  68. 61
  69. 62
  70. 63
  71. 64
  72. 65
  73. Acknowledgements
  74. About the Author
  75. Copyright

Part I

ABERFAN

1

OCTOBER 1966

Something dreadful happened in Wales yesterday, but it was William’s graduation and so he has been distracted. He left the Thames College of Embalming with outstanding and unprecedented results. Tonight is the annual social highlight for the Midlands Chapter of the Institute of Embalmers; the Ladies’ Night Dinner Dance in Nottingham. To celebrate William’s success, and equip him for his first social highlight, Uncle Robert has bought him a dinner suit and a bow tie. Aged nineteen, William is a little excited, but mostly terrified by the news from his uncle that their president, David Melling, is going to ensure that a fuss is made of him.

Fifty miles from home in Birmingham, William will spend his first night in a hotel; the Lace Market, along with Uncle Robert and his business partner, Howard. Sharing a table with them are the Strouds, an undertaking family from Solihull, and on William’s left, the only other person his age, Gloria Finch, also from an undertaking family, with whom William lodged during his year at college in Stepney. Glorious Gloria, whom William has loved from their first conversation a year ago, drinking cocoa in the Finches’ cosy galley kitchen, while her parents watched telly in the lounge. Tonight, she’s wearing a tight black dress with sequins, through which her whole body seems to be winking at William.

‘Swanky’ is how Robert described the event to William, and he wasn’t exaggerating. The bright, trussed figures of the women, with sparkling necks, wrists and fingers, are vivid against the men’s solid black and white – though Howard’s cufflinks are sparkly too. Howard loves an event; loves a fancy do. He helped to choose William’s dinner jacket and dicky bow, and stood behind him to demonstrate tying the tie, his broad cheek, brushing occasionally against William’s face, making them both giggle.

William takes in the ballroom’s high ceiling, the pink and white embellishments, looping and twisting in and out of the alcoves. Giant diamond teardrops and swooping strings of chandelier glass hang imperious and heavy over the tables. There may be more knives and forks on either side of William’s plate than in their entire cutlery drawer at home – he must work from the outside in. The knife is heavy, the white linen napkin that he unfolds and puts over his knees surprisingly stiff.