Postscript

Ben

At supper we drank the burgundy Elin had bought in Ludlow and celebrated our new commitment. We were both a little drunk, not on wine but on the surprise of it all, and the euphoria of the moment. I think we were both relieved too, Elin to have given up her long-held resistance to attachments, and I that my – as it seemed to me – precipitate proposal had gained the hoped-for response.

Afterwards we relaxed in the sitting room and she told me about her day. Not everything, I was aware of that, but all she could manage to speak of for the moment. She was concerned that I should understand about Steve, that she hadn’t wanted to let him go, and that, if possible, she would like to find him again.

I had been expecting something like this and offered no objection. ‘If it’ll make you happy,’ I said, ‘then I’ll be happy too. You know what I think about families. A young man to side with me against all these women might be an asset.’

‘You’ve got two perfectly good sons-in-law,’ Elin pointed out, but I could see she was pleased. ‘There are photographs of him,’ she said, ‘in my case. One day I’ll show you. When I’ve plucked up the courage to look at them myself.’ Her voice trembled and I knew not to push her. She would let me see them in her own time.

There was something different about her. Despite her bereavement, she was more relaxed, less driven – the result of letting go after all these years, I assumed.

‘What you haven’t explained,’ I said, my arm resting comfortably round her shoulder, ‘is why you had to go all the way to the Forest of Dean before you decided to turn round and come back here. You’re usually so direct with your navigation, anxious not to waste time.’

She smiled and stretched like a contented cat. ‘It was a journey into the past, I suppose. A pilgrimage I had to make.’ Abruptly she sat up straight and searched my face with those amazing eyes. ‘There’s a lot about me you don’t know, Ben. Even now, when I’ve told you so much of it. A lot I didn’t know or had forgotten. Do you still want to take me on with my background?’

‘Haven’t I been taking you on for years?’ I joked, ‘I think I can cope.’

‘Silly.’ She relaxed again and rested her head on my shoulder. ‘I could fall asleep if I let myself,’ she yawned. ‘I’ve come a long way.’