No amount of prayer will ever make up for what you did, she screamed with the seagulls.
That when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it finished, bringeth forth death.
“Oh, go away, Mother,” Phyllis muttered, gripping Craddock’s lead. “My lust wasn’t a sin. I was a young girl who made a mistake because I knew no better. And you stole my son from me.Thatwas the sin.”
My son.
Michael.
At the thought of that name, Phyllis turned to look at the man standing in front of a grave a few meters behind her. Michael hadcalled her this morning after he’d been to the police station to give them his side of events. They hadn’t arrested him on the spot, thank goodness, but he had been told to go back on Monday morning for further questioning. Cynthia had been rather less forgiving of his reappearance and had apparently spent much of the night screaming at Michael. As a result, he’d been in no rush to go home, so when Phyllis had mentioned what she was doing today, he’d asked if he could join her. Phyllis’s heart had soared so high she thought it might burst out of her chest.
“Are you all right?” she asked now, walking back to join Michael.
“I still can’t believe she’s really gone.” His eyes were fixed on the grave in front of them, its earth still fresh from Tuesday’s funeral. “I didn’t get to say good-bye; to carry her coffin or tell the congregation what a wonderful woman she was.”
Phyllis faltered. There’d been something playing on her mind since yesterday; something she wasn’t sure if she should confess. “I was at your mum’s funeral.”
Michael looked at her in surprise. “You were?”
“At the time, I thought you might have been behind the theft and murder, and I had this theory you might come to the funeral and then…” She trailed off, feeling embarrassed at the confession, but Michael smiled at her.
“I’m glad you came. Although you never got to meet Mum, I think the two of you would have got on. She had a great imagination too.”
“There was a good turnout. She was obviously a popular woman.”
“Yes, she had lots of friends. She was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.” Michael stopped and looked back at the grave, his brow creased. “Ever since I found out I was adopted, I’ve been so angry at her. Mum and I were always close—much closer than me andDad—but I began to question everything. Because if she could have lied to me about something as massive as the fact I was adopted, had she lied about everything else too? Did she even love me?”
He kicked a lose piece of turf under his feet, sending it skidding across the graveyard.
“I was desperate to tell her what I knew and ask why she’d kept it a secret all these years, but even in the heat of our last fight, I didn’t. I think I was scared of what she might admit once the truth was out in the open. So instead I let the rage fester inside me like a cancer, eating me from the inside out.”
“That’s understandable, given everything you’ve been through recently.”
“Maybe. But this past week, while I’ve been down at Chy Pysk, I’ve come to realize that the reason Mum didn’t tell me the truth was because she was scared too. Scared that I’d love her less if I knew she wasn’t my biological mother. Scared that I might be so angry I’d push her away. And so I made a promise to myself that as soon as I got home, I’d tell Mum what I knew, and also that it didn’t change anything. She might not have given birth to me, but she raised me and loved me with all her heart, and I was so lucky to have her as my mother.”
As he said these last words, Michael glanced at Phyllis, as if suddenly realizing the implication of what he’d just said.
“It’s all right,” she said quickly. “Youwerelucky, and I was lucky too. I’ve spent the past sixty years hoping that you were raised by a loving family.”
Tears had appeared in Michael’s eyes, and he blinked them away as he looked back at his mother’s grave. “Our last words were cruel, angry ones, said in the heat of a fight. I really hope she knew how much I loved her.”
“She did, Michael, for exactly the same reason you knew she loved you. However misguided it might have been, your mum kept the adoption a secret because she loved you and wanted to protect you from hurt. Just like you kept your dad’s debts a secret because you wanted to protecther. So, while you might have fought, actions speak louder than words, and your actions showed nothing but love.”
Michael gave a small smile and wiped his eyes on his suit sleeve. “I hope you’re right, I really do.”
“Michael Watkins, how dare you show your face here, you scoundrel!”
Phyllis jumped at the sound of another voice behind them. She spun around to see Eve’s silver-haired neighbor, a bunch of tulips in his hand, his face twisted in shock and anger at the sight of Michael. Craddock started barking as the man strode purposefully toward them.
“There’s no point trying to run away; I might be old, but I can physically restrain you if I have to,” Richard said as he approached them.
Phyllis swallowed a smile; she had to give it to Richard, the man was brave. Reckless, but brave.
“I didn’t kill my mother,” Michael said, taking a step backward. “I’ve already been to see the police and they know I’m innocent.”
“What?” Richard ground to a halt. “But your argument? I heard you and Eve fighting and then you sped off.”
“She was alive when I left.”
