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‘I wonder when the new people will move in?’ says Zoe. ‘Have you heard anything?’
‘Not yet.’
Ruth is going to rent the cottage unfurnished. It seems less final than selling. Ruth hopes that Zoe will have congenial neighbours.
The sisters move into the sitting room and sit on two of the packing cases.
‘I can hardly believe I’m leaving,’ says Ruth. ‘I’ve been here twenty-three years.’
‘But I’m still here,’ says Zoe. ‘You can always visit.’
It won’t be the same, Ruth wants to say, but isn’t that the point of all this? She hadn’t wanted her life to stay the same but now she feels as if she’s taking a dizzying leap into the unknown. But what is unknown about it really? She and Nelson have known each other for fourteen years, she is moving less than ten miles away, she’ll be working at the same university. Only this will be different, she thinks, looking out at the flat landscape, water shimmering through the long grasses, but she will still see the sea, the same sea, from her new windows.
‘I’ll still be here,’ says Zoe again. ‘You know, you have a home wherever you have family.’
Ruth thinks of her father in Eltham, her brother in Shooter’s Hill, even of Michelle in King’s Lynn. It’s true, she thinks, it’s the people who matter.
‘Everything changes,’ she says, ‘but nothing is destroyed. I read that on an archway once.’
‘I know you’re feeling all right when you say things I don’t understand,’ says Zoe.
They sit in companionable silence as the swallows swoop low over the marshes, getting ready to fly south for the winter.
Epilogue
17 August 2021
‘May your marriage always bring glory to God, joy to one another and blessings to your family for many generations to come. May love and laughter fill your hearts and your home for all of the days of your lives. . .’
As Father Hennessy pronounces these words, a flock of seagulls flies overhead, cawing loudly, and the guests collapse into laughter. Miranda, thoroughly overexcited, throws her flower petals into the air and they are caught by the breeze and whirl, with the gulls, over the sea.
The bride, who is barefoot on the sand, wearing a long white dress, leans forward to kiss her husband as the priest raises his hands in a final blessing. The groom, also in white, but with a purple cloak over his shoulders, gathers his wife into his arms. Ruth blames the sand for the sudden grittiness in her eyes.
‘So, she finally did it,’ says Nelson. ‘Never thought I’d see my best detective marry a mad druid.’
‘Well, you were the best man,’ says Ruth. ‘So you must have had some idea.’
The legal part of Cathbad and Judy’s wedding took place that morning at King’s Lynn register office, celebrated by a charming registrar called Shirley. Michael was the ring bearer and Maddie and Miranda were bridesmaids, accompanied by Kate and Clough’s daughter Amélie. But Father Hennessy, who knows the couple well, agreed to perform a Catholic blessing in the decidedly pre-Christian environment of the Saltmarsh.
‘We’ve already had a pagan hand-fasting ceremony,’ Cathbad explained to Ruth. ‘We wanted all spiritual bases covered.’
‘What did Father Hennessey say?’ asked Ruth. She knows that Judy is divorced and so, presumably, any future marriage cannot be sanctioned by the Catholic Church.
Cathbad laughed. He is having experimental oxygen therapy and seems to be back to his old, pre-Covid, self. ‘He said, “It’s not exactly according to canon law but I’m sure God will have no objections.”’
Father Hennessey, Ruth remembers, has always taken a rather relaxed approach to the Church’s rules and regulations.
The wedding guests are now walking towards the ceremonial bonfire. Michael, Miranda and Kate run across the beach scattering petals. Thing, who is wearing a bow tie, chases after them, barking joyfully. Judy hitches up her skirt and walks in the shallow water. Cathbad joins her, not seeming to worry about his cloak becoming waterlogged. Some of the guests follow suit, including Shona and Phil. Seeing Shona in this setting, burnished hair flying around her face, reminds Ruth of the henge dig, twenty-five years ago now, when they first became friends.
‘I wish I hadn’t worn heels,’ says Tanya, who is close behind them. Ruth hopes she didn’t hear Nelson call Judy his best detective.
‘Take them off then,’ says Tanya’s wife, Petra, who is in trainers.
‘I will,’ says Tanya. And she takes Petra’s hand as the two of them run towards the sea. They’re so fit they overtake most of the other guests. Ruth and Nelson are left walking with Super Jo, who is having no trouble with her vertiginous sandals.
‘What a lovely service,’ she says. ‘Makes me want to tie the knot one day.’
Does Jo have a boyfriend or a girlfriend? Nobody knows. But she seems in a mellow mood.
