“Billie, ye all right?” Erskine’s voice attempted to shake her from her stillness, but she did not reply.
Oh good lord…what do I do now? No! She cannot be gone! I never had a chance to say goodbye.
“How did she pass?” Erskine turned his attention from her to the old man.
“Sickness of the lungs,” the man said softly. “Aye, took many in this street. Fast it was, they havenae filled the houses with new tenants yet.”
“Was it…erm….” Laura struggled for words, momentarily forgetting to make her voice deeper. “Was it peaceful?”
Miss Ava Buchanan, how could you be gone from this world, and yet I did not know it?
She felt like screaming that question at the heavens. She loved Miss Buchanan dearly. To discover she had been gone so long and to have the news never reach her…the world was just too unfair to be bearable.
“Aye,” the elderly man nodded. “She had friends around her if that brings ye some comfort.”
Laura nodded. It gave a little comfort, but not much.
“Did she leave behind any family?” Laura’s voice was strained now, desperate to know why the message had not reached her in London. She was aware of Erskine’s head flicking toward her. It reminded her that she should be more careful about her voice.
“Nay, I am afraid, nae.” The man shook his head.
Laura stepped away from the door, acknowledging his words. That was why she had not heard. No one had been left behind who knew of the letters she and Miss Buchanan sent to one another.
“Is there a gravestone?” she asked, this time being more careful to deepen her voice.
“Aye, at St Cuthbert’s church, just on the other side of the market. Ye will find it on the edge of town just before ye reach the woodland on the far side.”
“Thank you,” Laura said quickly and backed away again.
“Billie, Billie!” Erskine tried to call her attention, but she ignored him. She had to see that grave.
She set off at a run, barely aware of the sound of his heavy footsteps behind her. She reached the market quickly but struggled to push through. Halfway through, she glanced back. Seeing Erskine was being held up more than her by the crowd, she pushed on again. By the time she reached the other side, she was far ahead of him.
Feeling numb, she raced ahead. Within less than a minute, she found the church the neighbor had mentioned and jumped the gate, hurrying through the churchyard as she sought Miss Buchanan’s name.
On the far side of the churchyard, she found it. The sight made Laura freeze again, and that numbness morphed into despair. Tears threatened to prick her eyes when she saw Miss Buchanan’s name carved out in the granite stone.
This cannot be happening.
She held a hand to her mouth, hoping it would somehow abate her tears. She had never had the chance to say goodbye to her old friend. Even though her plan had vanished, and the new life she had been dreaming of had gone, at this moment, what mattered more was the despair of never having seen Ava again, the one who could have been her second mother.
Slow footsteps disturbed her peace, and she dropped her hand from her mouth. She was aware of Erskine moving to her side, though he said nothing. She blinked madly, determined not to let the tears fall as she kept her gaze down on the gravestone, away from him. She reminded herself she was holding onto the illusion of being a man. She feared giving away to the tears that threatened to consume her could jeopardize that illusion.
“I am so sorry, Billie,” Erskine’s voice came eventually. Laura looked up from the graveside, now the tears had faded. “Ye all right?”
“I will be,” she nodded.
“Ye keep sayin’ that when I ask that question.”
“You tend to ask it at the worst times,” despite the gravity, she saw it bring the smallest of smiles to his handsome face.
“Aye, I am sorry for it.” He, too, looked down at the grave. “Is there any other family ye have here? Someone else ye can stay with?”
“No,” she shook her head. “She was the only family I had left. I’ll have to think of something else to do now.” She walked past the gravestone and let her hand slide across the top, feeling the grains of the stone beneath her fingertips.
Goodbye, Miss Ava Buchanan. I will miss you.
She sighed and looked up again, then began to walk out of the graveyard. Erskine said nothing, but he followed behind her. Laura had no real direction to her steps, but she suddenly felt a dire thirst, perhaps for more of that ale she was growing so accustomed to. Something that could help her dispel this pain.
