It had been because of Seb. He’d gone for a stroll up to the church early on Sunday morning, wanting to wander around the churchyard, look at the inscriptions on the gravestones – and make another attempt to decipher most of them – and sit on the bench and gather his thoughts. He liked to go out early, and as soon as he’d fed the animals and seen to their needs he’d left Watersmeet and headed out.
He hadn’t expected to meet anyone. The road was always so quiet anyway, but at this time of the morning it was rare to see people out and about. But to his surprise, as he turned into the gateway of St Helen’s, he saw someone coming out of it.
The two men had paused, staring at each other for a moment.
‘Seb?’ Mac’s uncertainty gave way to delight, and he reached out a hand to his former schoolfriend. ‘Itisyou! How are you?’
Stupid question. He only had to look at Seb to see that he wasn’t good. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and he looked pale and gaunt, like he wasn’t eating properly and hadn’t seen daylight for a while.
Seb shook his hand limply. ‘Ian. I heard you were back.’
‘Mac,’ he said immediately. It was almost a reflex now. ‘I’m called Mac now, not Ian.’
Seb just shrugged. ‘Well, nice to see you.’ He held the gate open for Mac. ‘You going in there?’
‘Yes. It’s a good place to think in peace, isn’t it?’
Seb turned to look back at the church. ‘Aye. It is.’
Mac frowned. ‘Your wife’s not…’ Stupid question. There’d been no burials in this churchyard for decades.
Seb shook his head. ‘No. She was cremated. What she wanted.’
They stood in awkward silence until Mac said gently, ‘I’m sorry to hear about her, Seb. It’s a crying shame.’
‘Aye,’ his old friend agreed.
Mac couldn’t believe this was the same young lad who’d been so full of fun and mischief. Seb had never bullied him, had never mocked him for doing all his homework on time, studying hard for exams and refusing to join some of the other boys in the toilets for a crafty smoke each break. Although Seb had messed around in class and hadn’t been above a crafty smoke himself, he’d just accepted Mac for who he was, and Mac would be forever grateful to him. It was heartbreaking to see the haunted look on his old friend’s face now.
‘You know I’m back at Watersmeet permanently,’ he said, hearing the words as he said them and marvelling at how he’d got to this position. ‘I’m just across the road from you. You’d be very welcome any time you fancy popping round for a drink and a chat. I did tell Sam.’
‘Aye, he mentioned.’ Seb nodded. ‘Thanks.’
‘Okay…’
‘I don’t go out much,’ Seb muttered. ‘I’m not good around people these days.’
‘You don’t have to entertain me, Seb,’ Mac told him. ‘You can sit there and say nothing at all if you like. It’s just good to get out of the house sometimes, isn’t it? I know I could do with some company.’
‘Aye, well.’ Seb dug his hands in his coat pocket. ‘I’ll think about it. See you, Ian—Mac.’
He’d walked away before Mac could say anything else, and as he’d stared after the clearly broken man, Mac had realised Seb had sunk so low that it was going to take a hell of a lot of time and patience to bring him back – and only then if Sebwantedto be brought back, which was by no means certain.
It had got Mac thinking about what Evan had said.‘You mustn’t be alone, Mac. Someone in your position – you need people to talk to. If you need a listening ear, I’m here. You understand?’
He was right. Whatever happened, he couldn’t allow himself to wallow alone at Watersmeet. He’d made a start, inviting Alison and Rosie round, but they were busy people and had lives of their own. He needed more than just the two of them. And Evan had made it very clear that he would be there for him if he needed him.
So Mac had rung the vet up and had been relieved when Evan sounded delighted to hear from him.
‘Come for your tea,’ he’d told him. ‘We’re free on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday this week. Whichever suits best.’
‘Tuesday would be best,’ Mac said. ‘I need to go shopping in Millensea anyway, so I could pop to the supermarket after I’ve been to yours. I’m running out of everything.’
‘Tuesday then, after surgery. Come and meet the wife. She loves having someone to cook for. She’s always telling me I don’t appreciate her efforts and she’s probably right. I’m just as happy with egg and chips.’
Mac laughed. ‘Thank you. I’ll see you on Tuesday. About six?’
Now, as he rang the doorbell, he could feel his legs shaking with nerves, which was ridiculous. Trouble was, he was so out of practice at living a normal life, doing normal things. It had been a week and a half since Alison and Rosie had visited him, and he was only just recovering from that!
