But with Winnie’s whisper clearly audible to all, Tubby’s owner swung around.
‘What did you say, Winifred Adams?’
Deciding that the time had come to draw the service to a close before either the animals or humans got carried away with their snapping, the vicar called everybody to order, and invited them to take drinks and nibbles, strictly of the food variety,on the lawned area outside. Everybody welcomed the chance to stop restraining their now beyond-restless pets and headed for the door.
After being outside for a while and getting some rich fruit cake inside them, everybody calmed down. Even Winnie managed to offer Maureen an apology of sorts for insulting Tubby, who graciously accepted before adding that a ‘boisterous’ dog like Jack neededcareful watching.
Feeling the sudden urge to put Maureen in her place – Jack was playful and sometimes a little cheeky, but he certainly wasn’t ‘boisterous’ – Lisa decided it was time for a change of subject and a move away from Maureen, her precious pooch and unwelcome opinions. ‘Now, how about I get those flowers for Stan?’ she offered, stepping between Winnie and Maureen.
Winniesucked in a breath through her teeth. ‘That would be lovely.’
Lisa told Jack to stay, ran to the car and fetched the bunch of lilac asters Winnie had picked from her garden in readiness to visit Stan’s grave. As she returned to Winnie, Lisa swapped the flowers for Jack’s lead. Silently, Lisa held Winnie’s arm and the three of them made their way into the small churchyard adjacent. It wasnoticeably calmer than the chaotic lawn they had left just a few feet away, though the shadow cast across it by the church made it seem colder. Lisa looked at the headstones; some were so ancient they had sunk into the ground – their weather-worn lettering no longer visible and visiting family members long gone. Winding their way down the narrow, uneven path Lisa noticed the headstone of ‘StanleyNicholas Adams’ before they reached it. It was a white marble open book, embellished with an ornate tassel carved into the centre between the pages. He had been eighty-four when he had died. Lisa didn’t know how old Winnie was, but she guessed Stan had been several years older. The words ‘Greatly missed husband, beloved father and grandfather’ made Lisa think of her Granny Blake. She hadn’t beento visit the crematorium since the day of her funeral. She hadn’t seen the plaque her parents had chosen to display for her in the garden of remembrance. She made a mental note to visit it soon. It was one of the many things that had been neglected while she lived away.
While Winnie stood looking down with a sigh, Jack lay on the grave, his head resting between his paws, all signs of thenormally playful glint gone from his eyes. As he let out a whine, Winnie bent to pat him reassuringly and bit her own trembling lip. It was such a sad scene – the two of them, united in their grief for the man who once meant so much to both of them. Lisa felt tears well in her eyes. Still holding Jack’s lead she stood to one side to give them their moment.
But as she moved, her attentionwas drawn once more to the headstone. At first she had been looking at Stan’s name and the loving epitaph written for him, but now all she could see was the other side, the blank page; an untouched page of highly polished, white marble. Clearly it was left, waiting for Winnie to join her husband. Lisa felt goosebumps prick uneasily at her skin, and wondered how it made Winnie feel to see that emptypage each time she visited. Was it a comfort to know that one day she and Stan would be reunited? Or did she fear the day her name would be etched into the marble? Lisa wasn’t religious, but events of the past year had made her question life and death more than she ever had before. She placed her arm round Winnie’s shoulder.
‘Ah, he was a good ’un, my Stan.’ Winnie sighed.
Theystood silently for a few moments, their feet sinking into the grass that was still sodden underfoot from the rain that had fallen over previous days. Lisa could feel the first hint of the bright, autumn sun touching her back as it began to rise high enough into the sky to appear above the church. Though it wasn’t warm enough to remove the early-October chill from the air, she welcomed the sensation.
‘A good ’un indeed,’ Winnie finally continued.
‘Yes, I’m sure—’ about to add that she would have liked to have met him, Lisa was interrupted by Winnie.
‘And a passionate one too.’
Lisa closed her mouth, unsure what to say to that.
‘My Stan, you know, by God he knew how to treat a lady! The things we got up to when we took our bikes out of a Sunday afternoon.You should’ve seen us. Going alfresco, Stan would call it.’
A giggle burst past the lump that had been forming in Lisa’s throat. ‘Winnie!’ Lisa was shocked and somewhat pleased she hadn’t seen them.
‘The daft beggar! Ah, I miss him. I miss every bit of that man, I can tell you—’
‘No, honestly, no need,’ Lisa interjected.
Realising how positively pink Lisa’s cheekshad turned Winnie chuckled with a wheeze. ‘Oh you youngsters! You’re a funny lot. Well, I can tell you this, it’s a bloody shame he’s gone. You give your whole life to another person – you know, your heart, mind, body and soul – but before you know it they’ve gone, just like that. When you thought you had forever, that they’d never leave you, suddenly it’s over and your whole world shifts. Everythingyou knew is different; he was my north star, you see. What I wouldn’t give for another day in the arms of that man.’
‘Oh, Winnie, I’m so sorry!’ was all Lisa could manage, she knew she’d cry if she attempted to say more.
‘Ah, we’re learning, aren’t we, Jack.’ Winnie stroked Jack’s head. ‘Learning to live without him. But it’s a wound – a wound so deep that it’ll never completelyheal, my lovely. There’ll always be a scar. A part of me marked by the fact he’s gone.’
Lisa stroked Winnie’s arm, not really knowing what to say.
Winnie took a breath and lowered her voice. ‘I was selfish, you know. Even though I knew it was coming. I’d been there, seen the results – I knew nothing could be done – but I just wasn’t ready to let him go.’ Winnie bit her lip as ittrembled once more.
Lisa felt that this was something Winnie had, perhaps, not shared before. It was a very intimate moment, just the three of them stood at Stan’s grave. ‘I think that’s understandable, Winnie. How could you be ready for that?’
‘He was. He needed to go – the pain was too much. But I wanted him to stay, I needed him to still be there. But you can’t stop time; itmarches on if you’re ready or not.’
Lisa knew that all too well.
