‘Youneed advice? That makes a change.’
‘That was Arthur,’ she said.
‘Arthur?’
‘He’s a friend of mine.’
‘A friend as in afriend?’
‘That’s what friend usually means.’
‘Would you like to tell me about Arthur?’
‘I think I would. Arthur is one of the ramblers, and we seem to have hit it off quite well.’
‘Aww, Irene, that’s lovely. But judging by the look on your face, you seem a little worried about it.’
‘It’s Neville,’ she answered, pushing open the wrought-iron gates leading to the churchyard. The last time they’d visited Neville’s grave was on Christmas Eve. The day had been misty and the sudden drop in temperature had given the whole place an eerie feel. Today, however, the cemetery was an array of yellow, daffodils dancing along the path leading to the gravestones.
‘Can we sit on that bench over there for a minute while we talk?’
‘Of course,’ Elle answered.
‘Let me tell you about Arthur. He’s a lovely man, a widower, so we have that in common. He has a grown-up daughter, Jessica, who’s one of those theatrical types.’
‘Theatrical types?’
‘Yes, she’s currently touring the country withMamma Mia!’
‘I love that film – it’s one of my favourites. Is that the production that’s on at Glensheil Theatre at the minute?’
‘Yes, that’s the one. But I feel it’s too difficult.’
‘What’s too difficult?’
Irene glanced towards Neville’s grave. ‘Neville was the love of my life, and I’ve started to get close to Arthur but…’ She tried to put on a brave face but her eyes teemed with tears.
‘But?’
‘I have these pangs in here, like I’m betraying Neville.’ Irene clutched her chest.
Elle placed her hand on her mother’s knee.
‘No one will ever replace Neville,’ she said softly, ‘but I’m also sure he wouldn’t want you to grow old alone – or be lonely for that matter.’
‘I still feel like I’m being disloyal.’
‘Aww, Irene, that’s just not the case. It’s okay to move on. It doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten him – you still have all those wonderful memories.’
‘It’s just very hard.’
Elle’s heart ached for her. ‘Tell me about Arthur. What’s he like?’
Irene glanced at Elle, her eyes twinkling at the mention of his name, and a smile grew on her face. ‘He knew today would be difficult for me, and he popped by this morning with a bunch of flowers.’
‘That’s lovely.’
‘Like I said, we met in the walking group. After his wife died, he joined the group to make new friends and take a little exercise. He’s funny, kind and thoughtful. We have loads of things in common. We both like to eat out and go to the cinema, and we’ve even talked about joining the bowling club. It’s just so easy – there are no awkward silences when we’re together.’
