Wednesday arrived slightly damp but the forecast was for dry and bright later in the day. The funeral was set for twelve thirty, which sort of mucked up the whole day but Mum said it was so people from the Dukeries Academy could attend during lunch break, I guess that makes some sense. To be honest I hadn’t really thought about who would be at St Swithuns today, her family of course, people from the village, friends like Johnny I guess, I just hadn’t thought about the school community.

My, well Johnny’s, departure from the Academy had been sudden, I don’t know exactly who will be coming but won’t they find it strange that Johnny isn’t there? Well I know he will be but not really, instead his cousin, with her too bright hair, pouty lips and more than passing resemblance will be in attendance. Some of the teachers and indeed pupils have known Johnny for five years, will they not recognise Daisy as being Johnny in disguise?

I mentioned my fears as I helped Aunt Claire with the catering arrangements, plating up and tabling the buffet that Alex was preparing.

"You think you’ll be recognised?”
"It’s a possibility,” I replied.
"Well I sincerely doubt it.”
"But what if they do?” I persisted.

She stopped wrapping cutlery for a moment and took a long look at me.

"Well all I can see is my niece Daisy Miller who has a familial resemblance to my son Johnny but if it worries you so much, well we’ll just have to make sure there’s no doubt.”
"How do we do that?”
"We make you into Daisy Miller version two.”
"How?”
"We make you look more like your mother.”
"But isn’t that the problem?”
"Not me kiddo, Daisy’s mother.”
"And how do we manage that?”
"Oh there’s a couple of tricks I know, lets get this finished then we’ll go get ready okay?”
"I guess.”

Well I must admit, I know it was only makeup but Daisy mark two did look even less like Johnny by the time Aunt Claire was finished. The basics were, of course, still the same, the hair, the lips, the nails, the piercings but one of Mum’s bras suitably stuffed gave me a definite chest and careful shading made my nose look thinner, my cheekbones higher and jawline softer. Anyone who knows Daisy won’t be fooled of course but anyone who doesn’t, well I couldn’t see me any more so how will they?

In my almost sixteen years, I’ve never been involved with death so intimately before. That doesn’t mean I haven’t known people who have died but they’ve not been friends or family. The result of that is I’ve never been to a funeral, I don’t really know how it all works beyond what I’ve seen on the telly.

When the Baker family arrived at the church, there were already quite a few folk stood about, a few clearly hadn’t got the note about dress code, the menfolk mostly still wearing shirts and ties just lacking jackets. Conversation was muted, the atmosphere, I thought, suitably sombre. The rents exchanged a few greetings, I on the other hand found myself holding my brothers hand.

I spotted Mrs Porter and a couple of other Dukeries staff arrive shortly before a girl in a wheelchair, Gemma Sjkorkowich I realised, with I guess her parents. There were a few more of my ex classmates, easily identified by their school uniforms, I guess they’ll be returning to their classes afterwards. And then the small funeral courtege arrived, the flower laden hearse pulling up ahead of two limousines containing family members.

I got a bit distracted by the arrival of my younger cousins who had clearly been crying, a state I was doing my best to control myself. It was only the general shifting of the crowd, and the lack of conversation which alerted me to the coffin being born through the church yard. As it passed, people fell in behind following the family and casket into the church.

You neither need nor I think, want me to go through the service or internment, at one point it seemed like most of those attending were dabbing at tears. I suppose you could say it went well, if that can be said about a funeral. She was buried towards the edge of the church yard, and then it was over.

Well not quite, with the wake being at my home there was no quick escape from the sadness of the day. Apart from Gem, the other Academy attendees had left without coming into the pub, having come in one of the school minibuses. It was after three before the last mourners departed, I’d held it all in pretty well but now, well I fled to my room and let my emotions free.

Nothing had been said about Manda’s imminent coronation during the service, but lets face it, I, that is Daisy wouldn’t be here without it. As I lay on my bed gently sobbing, I vowed to be the best May Queen ever in her memory.