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Finally, Blake calls to say he is on his way home. His voice trembles with emotion.
‘Are you happy, Lana?’
‘Yes, I’m happy.’
‘Good,’ he says softly.
‘Is everything all right, Blake?’
‘Yes, everything is just fine.’
And I laugh, a shaky, nervous, overjoyed sound. I feel as if we are just starting again. We’ve been given a second chance.
‘Say hello to Sorab,’ I say and hold the phone to his ear. I don’t know what he says, but Sorab listens intently and suddenly grins.
I am still holding Sorab pressed against my body when our housekeeper comes in with a slim black box.
‘Someone dropped this off at the front gate,’ she tells me.
I take the box from her curiously, snap it open and frown.
Inside, nestled on velvet, is Blake’s watch.
Epilogue
‘Time and the ocean and some guiding star and High Cabal have made us what we are.’
—Sir Winston Churchill,
Prime Minister, UK, 1940–1945 & 1951–1955
The woman awakens to the sound of a child’s laughter floating in through the open windows. She smiles and stretches, then strokes her belly. It is just beginning to show. A very small bump. She sits up and, hooking her feet into slippers, goes to the window. She can see her husband and son at the bottom of the garden. The boy is perched on his father’s shoulders and trying to peer into a bird’s nest.
She has the urge to run to them, but she doesn’t. Instead she savors that scene, a moment of beauty and joy. We have survived something so profound that it has bound us together like a tightly woven rope, she thinks. We aren’t the same fun-loving innocent people we once were but we are finally free.
Suddenly overwhelmed by emotion she finds herself running out of the bedroom and down the stairs like a child. Hurtling towards them.
At the double doors that lead to the garden she takes off her slippers and steps lightly on the tiles. They are already sun warmed. It is a beautiful day and there is not a cloud in the sky. The grass is cool under her feet. Before the man or the child have realized, she is already there. She throws her arms tightly around his waist and lays her cheek against his warm shirt. He stumbles forwards slightly with surprise and her son squeals. ‘Oh, Mummy,’ he scolds, ‘you’re going to make Daddy and I fall down.’
‘Daddy and me,’ she corrects automatically.
Her husband doesn’t say anything, just looks down indulgently at her.
‘What are the two of you doing?’
‘We’re looking at bird’s eggs, but we’re not allowed to touch them.’
‘That’s it,’ her husband says and puts the boy on the ground. Then he turns around fully to look at her. ‘Hey, gorgeous,’ he says to her.
‘You have no idea how often I dreamed of this day,’ she says.
‘Look, Daddy. I found a beetle,’ the boy cries and holds out his cupped palms.
‘Be careful, Sorab,’ his father warns. ‘You don’t want to kill it. Even the lowly beetle’s life is precious to it.’
The woman raises her eyebrow. ‘Don’t you think it's a bit early for philosophy lessons?’
‘No,’ says the man. ‘It’s never too early for him to learn wrong from right.’
‘But Mummy kills ants all the time,’ the boy says.
‘Well,’ sighs the man. ‘Mummy only kills them when they come into the house and make a nuisance of themselves.’
The boy opens his hand and the beetle flies out of it. He begins to run after it and the man turns to his woman.
‘Do you ever miss that other life, Blake?’
‘Never,’ he states emphatically.
‘Nothing at all?’
He lays his hand on his wife’s belly and spreads his fingers out. ‘You are more beautiful to me today than ever.’
‘Answer the question,’ she teases.
He looks into her eyes and makes a mental note of their color, how it has deepened with her pregnancy. ‘Oh Lana, Lana, Lana,’ he sighs softly. ‘When I met you, my heart was a blank canvas. Now, it is a kaleidoscope of color, rich and eternal.’
She smiles and lets his words warm her insides.
This is just the beginning…
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