What became of us

a thousand pieces. Suddenly he was crying in great gasping sobs, unable to do anything about it, even though the last person in the world he wanted to see him cry was Geraldine.
    ‘Poor boy,’ she said, putting a hand on his shaking shoulders, ‘poor Roy.’
    ‘When did Penny say that?’ he asked finally. Geraldine sat down again opposite him.
    ‘Near the end. When she knew I wouldn’t argue with her because she was so ill,’ Geraldine let out a small rueful laugh. ‘And Manon was coming up from London every day, and it was obvious how good she was with the children. I think that Penny thought that Manon would be able to tell them how she was better than we could. She told me that Manon knew her better than anyone else. That made me sad, but it doesn’t now, not so much. I can now see some of the qualities in Manon that Penny could see...’
    ‘Manon’s had an odd life,’ Roy said.
    ‘Yes. She frightened me when she was younger. She seemed so sophisticated. She cast a spell on people. I was afraid she would spirit my daughter away too. But I think that that was more to do with me not wanting to lose Penny.’ Geraldine wiped away a solitary tear. ‘Ah, Roy! I loved her so much, I feared from the day she was born that I would lose her. Sometimes, I think I made it happen because I prayed so much that it would not...’
    He felt strangely as if she had not told anyone that before.
    How brave she was and how relentlessly honest. Just like Penny, he thought, surprised that he should now be able to see in Geraldine virtues he thought Penny possessed in spite of her mother, rather than because of her.
    He reached out across the table and held her hand.
    They looked at each other for a moment. Then she withdrew her hand, pretending to search for a handkerchief up her sleeve.
    ‘Would you mind if I went for a walk?’ he heard himself asking.
    ‘Of course not.’
    ‘The girls are both asleep. If they ask for me, tell them I’ll be back soon.’
    ‘They’ll be fine.’
    She smiled again, relieved, he thought, at the change of subject.
    ‘I just need to collect myself.’
    ‘Of course you do.’
    ‘I won’t be very long.’
    ‘Be as long as you need,’ she told him.
    ‘Thank you,’ he said, stooping to give her a kiss. Her skin smelt slightly of dried roses, ‘Thank you for everything you do.’
    ‘It’s nice to have family around,’ she told him, blushing slightly, embarrassed by the softness of their exchange: ‘it’s good to be useful when you’re older.’

    The days were beginning to draw in. If he had been out at this time only a few evenings before, it would still have been dusk, but it was quite dark, and the sky above was brilliant with stars. He walked along the lane past the meadow towards the village pub.
    There were people in the garden sitting at wooden tables and as he drew closer he could smell the yeasty vapour of beer and hear the murmur of summer evening conversation. The windows of the pub were like pumpkin lanterns of warm orange light. He stood for a few moments unseen in the shadows, tempted to venture into the warm smoky embrace of the bar.
    There was a young couple at the table nearest to where he was standing. The girl had long hair and was holding a bottle of lager in her right hand, the boy was drinking a pint of beer. Underneath the table, their hands were stroking each other’s wrists. He stared at them, then the girl turned and saw him. He looked away, and began walking quickly back towards the rectory.
    It was getting slightly chilly. He thought about going in for a jumper, but decided not to. The key to the car jingled in the pocket of his shorts. He slid it into the door of the car and climbed in. It wouldn’t take much more than an hour to drive to London at this time of night, he thought, turning on the ignition.
    In the rearview mirror as he pulled away, he thought he saw Geraldine’s silhouette at the staircase window, on her way upstairs to check the children, or perhaps watching him. But maybe it was just a trick of the light, he thought, switching his headlights to full beam, or a friendly ghost.

Chapter 48

    ‘I can’t believe I’m the only one of us that didn’t get laid,’ Annie said.
    There was a sharp intake of breath.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Sometimes one of the boys picks up the phone upstairs,’ Ursula said.
    ‘Oh, sorry,’ Annie said. Surely Ursula’s children were too young to know what getting laid meant, or did she think of Barry as