The cemetery was small and bleak, a place for people whom nobody wanted. Here were no beautiful monuments, only small, ugly slabs that almost seemed to shrink with the cold. At last they found Alec Martin’s, with his name and dates.
‘He was only thirty-three when he died,’ Matteo said. ‘And his whole adult life had been taken up making enough money to claim his family back from me. Now he has nothing.
‘I’ve hated him, but I never before wondered how much he must have hated me.’
He was silent for a moment before looking at the grave and speaking, almost as though there were someone there who could hear.
‘I came here today…’ He hesitated, and for a moment Holly thought he would be unable to go on. But then he lifted his head. ‘I came to say thank you for our daughter, and to promise you that I’ll always look after her.’
His face softened. ‘You have my word on that.’
He drew Holly’s hand through his arm and led her away from the loneliness. The air was cold with frost and dusk was falling, but through the trees they could see lights, beckoning them on to another place, where there was warmth, hope and new life.
Just before they reached the lights he stopped and said, ‘But for you, I could never have understood. I could never even have made a beginning.’
‘The beginning will go on,’ she promised.
‘Only if you’re with me.’
‘I will be-always.’
He kissed her tenderly.
‘Let’s go home,’ he said.
Lucy Gordon
