It felt like home, and relief washed over me.
An orange envelope sat on the unmade bed and I dropped my bag onto the woven rug and sat next to it. I wanted to toss it in the bin and forget it existed. But something kept drawing my gaze back, like it was a flame I couldn’t ignore.
What harm could it do? He already knew I was crazy now, anyway.
I peeled the top flap open and pulled out the thin contents. On the back of a photo, Dax had scribbled a note in pencil:
Thought this might come in handy in case you have any more problems.
I turned the photo over and my hand flew to my mouth.
It was Miss Lissy and a man. Inside her car. Their hands caught mid-exchange.
He didn’t look like someone she’d normally associate with. This one reminded me of Josh. An addict.
Surely she wasn’t buying drugs?
I crossed the room to the small desk by the window, pulled open the drawer and grabbed an eraser. I rubbed out Dax’s note quickly.
Could never be too careful.
Was this unprofessional of him? Absolutely. But was it also something a friend would do as a solid? Yes. Would I continue to deconstruct all the reasons he could have left this for me after what happened earlier this evening until my mind melted into a vat of shame?
Also yes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
St Peter’sChurch was a small stone-built structure on the outskirts of Glades Bay that looked like it might fit thirty people on a Sunday—if no one sneezed. From what I understood, it existed before the town was officially founded, so I imagined there was less need for space back then. Fields of sheep and beef stock surrounded it, and the grassy area behind the church sloped down a hill where a cemetery sat at the bottom.
“Can I help you, young ladies?” asked the elderly man standing at the arched wooden door, a corsage pinned to his paisley blue shirt. I beamed at him. I loved when people referred to me asyoung.
Breeze had insisted on coming with me, using the excuse that it was her day off. I had a sneaking suspicion it was more because she didn’t trust me not to skip town again. She linked her arm through mine and gave the man a warm smile.
“We’re here for Olivia’s memorial. Are we in the right place?” She asked, glancing around the empty car park.
The service was scheduled to start at 10.30 a.m., but we were the only car parked to the side of the gravel driveway, and we'd been pushing it for timing. The crinkles around the man’s eyesgrew deeper as he felt behind him for the cane that was leaning against the closed half of the door.
“You sure are.” His eyes twinkled. “It fills my heart that someone’s come to see her off. I’m Jim.” He extended his hand to shake ours, one after the other.
“Are we the only ones here?” I asked, trying to hide the strain in my voice.
Jim nodded slowly. “Not unusual in these situations... when an individual hasn’t been otherwise claimed,” he added with a grimace at his own honesty.
I nodded, and sadness pooled in my chest. Breeze squeezed my arm and pulled me closer to her side.
It had been the right thing to come back. I already knew it, but now I was certain.
Jim shuffled his way inside, holding the heavy door open with his back while leaning on his cane with both hands. Breeze took the weight of the door as she walked in last, gently closing it behind us.
“Thank-you,” he exhaled a held breath. “Sharp as a tack up here,” he tapped a finger to the side of his head. “Afraid my body's been going on strike for a while though.”
The walls of the church were a light sea foam green, and sunlight filtered through the arched windows that ran along the sides of the room. Heavy wooden pews stretched down the middle of the space, and a carved cross hung beneath a brightly coloured stained-glass window depicting a contorted-faced individual. The air smelt dusty, the way the children’s home did, although no jarring memories emerged here.
“Would you like to take a seat?” Jim asked, nodding toward the front pew.
My gut nearly fell through the floor as I followed his gaze. A simple casket made of thick plywood, with two rope handles on each side, sat on top of the altar to the left of the pulpit.
“I didn’t realise she’d actually be here,” I hissed at Breeze, whose cheeks flushed pink. Her rounded eyes threw me a shut up, look as she dragged my concrete feet to the front of the room. Perhaps it was good that she’d insisted on coming.
