my eyes closed. The headache was still at fever pitch, and I was afraid it had settled in for the night. I also knew it was far too soon to take more painkillers and at this rate the bottle would be emptied long before the wedding, so I knew I had to start rationing myself.
I tried for fifteen minutes to clear my mind but it refused to empty. The day kept spooling through my tortured head in slow motion. I saw again and again the look in Janet’s eyes as she spoke of her dead son and how much she said I had always meant to him. I heard again my own denial, the same denial I had uselessly echoed to Matt when he had made the same claim. I couldn’t believe they were both right. That everyone had been right.
Was it really possible to have been so blind, to have missed such a vital truth in our relationship? These were impossible questions to answer. And the tragedy of knowing I would never, could never, be sure was crumbling my resolve not to allow my thoughts to reach out for Jimmy. I needed him now, at this moment, more than ever; to hear his voice, to look into the smile that always lived in his eyes for me.
Without pausing to make a conscious decision, I swung my legs off the bed and groped around for my shoes. The lateness of the hour didn’t worry me. I knew there was only one place I could go now to ask these questions, to say what I had to say.
The night had turned even colder when I once more walked past the bemused doorman who had bidden me goodnight on my way in only twenty minutes before. The cold wind numbed my face as I turned and began walking swiftly to my destination. If challenged, I could always claim that I’d taken the walk to find relief from my headache, but in reality I needed an altogether different kind of solace. And the location held no horrors for me. How could it? There was nothing to fear from a ghost when they were someone you loved.
The dark streets were almost deserted; it was too cold and late for an evening stroll. My feet crunched lightly on pavements already beginning to glaze with a light frosting of ice. When the wind bit into my face with icy fangs, I burrowed my chin deeper into my scarf and walked into its vicious jaws with steely determination.
My feet faltered for a second when I rounded the last street corner and the church came into view. It stood alone at the top of a hill, with no shops or houses nearby. Its closest neighbour was the town’s railway station, and that stood almost two miles away. Even on a clear day, the red-bricked station building was completely obscured by the churchyard’s high iron railings. Its isolation was perhaps meant to engender a feeling of peace and tranquillity, but on this dark December night neither of those emotions were foremost in my mind.
As I approached the large arched gate in the railings, I wondered what I would do if it were locked. Climb over? I looked up and surveyed the height of the fence… no, that wasn’t going to happen. Come back in the morning, I supposed. Yet the urgency to make this very real and physical connection with Jimmy was so strong, I didn’t think I could wait until the following day.
The gate swung open on well-oiled hinges. Strange, I’d felt sure it was going to creak and make the cliché complete.
Once inside the churchyard my courage wavered slightly. Was this an act of total madness, to be wandering around a deserted graveyard at this time of night? Wasn’t this just the sort of behaviour I’d always ridiculed heroines for in the movies?
A noise from an approaching car startled me, and instinctively I ducked behind a large oak tree to avoid being picked up in its headlights. I’d forgotten I could be clearly seen by passing cars on the road. Plus, I wasn’t exactly dressed for covert manoeuvres in my long white coat. I wasn’t sure if I was actually committing a criminal office, or an act of trespass, but winding up at a police station, trying to justify my actions, was not how I planned to
I tried for fifteen minutes to clear my mind but it refused to empty. The day kept spooling through my tortured head in slow motion. I saw again and again the look in Janet’s eyes as she spoke of her dead son and how much she said I had always meant to him. I heard again my own denial, the same denial I had uselessly echoed to Matt when he had made the same claim. I couldn’t believe they were both right. That everyone had been right.
Was it really possible to have been so blind, to have missed such a vital truth in our relationship? These were impossible questions to answer. And the tragedy of knowing I would never, could never, be sure was crumbling my resolve not to allow my thoughts to reach out for Jimmy. I needed him now, at this moment, more than ever; to hear his voice, to look into the smile that always lived in his eyes for me.
Without pausing to make a conscious decision, I swung my legs off the bed and groped around for my shoes. The lateness of the hour didn’t worry me. I knew there was only one place I could go now to ask these questions, to say what I had to say.
The night had turned even colder when I once more walked past the bemused doorman who had bidden me goodnight on my way in only twenty minutes before. The cold wind numbed my face as I turned and began walking swiftly to my destination. If challenged, I could always claim that I’d taken the walk to find relief from my headache, but in reality I needed an altogether different kind of solace. And the location held no horrors for me. How could it? There was nothing to fear from a ghost when they were someone you loved.
The dark streets were almost deserted; it was too cold and late for an evening stroll. My feet crunched lightly on pavements already beginning to glaze with a light frosting of ice. When the wind bit into my face with icy fangs, I burrowed my chin deeper into my scarf and walked into its vicious jaws with steely determination.
My feet faltered for a second when I rounded the last street corner and the church came into view. It stood alone at the top of a hill, with no shops or houses nearby. Its closest neighbour was the town’s railway station, and that stood almost two miles away. Even on a clear day, the red-bricked station building was completely obscured by the churchyard’s high iron railings. Its isolation was perhaps meant to engender a feeling of peace and tranquillity, but on this dark December night neither of those emotions were foremost in my mind.
As I approached the large arched gate in the railings, I wondered what I would do if it were locked. Climb over? I looked up and surveyed the height of the fence… no, that wasn’t going to happen. Come back in the morning, I supposed. Yet the urgency to make this very real and physical connection with Jimmy was so strong, I didn’t think I could wait until the following day.
The gate swung open on well-oiled hinges. Strange, I’d felt sure it was going to creak and make the cliché complete.
Once inside the churchyard my courage wavered slightly. Was this an act of total madness, to be wandering around a deserted graveyard at this time of night? Wasn’t this just the sort of behaviour I’d always ridiculed heroines for in the movies?
A noise from an approaching car startled me, and instinctively I ducked behind a large oak tree to avoid being picked up in its headlights. I’d forgotten I could be clearly seen by passing cars on the road. Plus, I wasn’t exactly dressed for covert manoeuvres in my long white coat. I wasn’t sure if I was actually committing a criminal office, or an act of trespass, but winding up at a police station, trying to justify my actions, was not how I planned to
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