A Mother's Love(23)

Then Robert asked the question his wife was too afraid to ask. “Is he here now?”

Bruno stood up. He turned to face the pine tree which stood between the graveyard and the sun. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, he is.” Celeste and Robert followed Bruno’s line of vision. Celeste’s heart was so full of hope she thought it might burst. Robert’s eyes were so misty he wasn’t sure he’d see anything at all, physical or metaphysical. But then they both saw it. Only for a moment. A bright beam of sunlight shone through the branches, and there, in the golden light, was the silhouette of a little boy. They couldn’t see him clearly but they sensed he was smiling; and they felt a love stronger and deeper than anything they had yet experienced.

Celeste moved her hand and slipped it into Robert’s. He closed his fingers around hers and held her tightly.





Epilogue

“Make sure you haven’t forgotten anything,” Georgia shouted to Bruno as he ran back into the house to check his bedroom one last time. “You’ve got Brodie, haven’t you?” She smiled at Celeste. “That would be disastrous if he were to leave his bear behind.”

“I’ve packed everything,” Celeste reassured her. “If he’s left anything behind, Robert can drive it over. You’re not so far away now.”

“I know. Isn’t it lovely?” Georgia sighed, enjoying the sun on the terrace and the lemonade her son and Celeste had made that morning. “I’m so happy to be back in the UK. You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed it.” She put her hand on Celeste’s arm. “You’ve been amazing. I can’t thank you enough for having him.”

“I’ve loved it. He’s a very special boy, you should be very proud of him. He couldn’t have been more polite and well mannered.”

“I worried it might be the wrong thing to ask you . . .” Her voice trailed off awkwardly.

“Because of Jack?” Celeste asked. “No, it was absolutely the right thing to do. Bruno has made me realize how empty my life is without children. Perhaps we’ll be blessed with more.”

Georgia looked surprised and relieved. “Gosh! Well, that would be nice.”

“I’ve put his suitcase in your car,” said Robert, appearing round the corner.

“Thank you, Robert. Ah, Mother!” Georgia exclaimed as her parents wandered up through the garden.

Huxley took off his panama and gave his daughter a big hug. “How’s the house?”

“Perfect!” she gushed. “Just perfect.”

“Bruno’s been a delight,” said Marigold. “I’m afraid we’re going to miss him dreadfully.”

“You can have him back anytime.” Georgia laughed. “But you’ll have to have the girls, too, or they’ll be jealous.”

“I’d love to have them all,” Marigold exclaimed. “We’ll all be fighting over Bruno, though.”

“You’ll ruin the boy with all your clucking,” said Huxley. “How on earth is the poor chap going to grow into a man with all you women mollycoddling him?”

“He’ll make a fine man,” said Celeste with a smile. “No doubt about that.”

Bruno ran out onto the terrace again. He put his arms around Tarquin and pressed his face into his fur. Then he said good-bye to his grandparents and uncle.

“You’ll come back soon, I hope,” said Robert. “I could do with your help in the shop.”

Bruno laughed. “Yes, please,” he said.

“And I have something special for you,” said Celeste, lifting a large shopping bag off the floor.

“Wow! What is it?” he asked.

“It’s the quilt. I finished it last night and I would like you to have it.”

“Thank you, Aunt Celeste.”

“It’s a pleasure,” she said, and winked at him.

They waved the car off until it had disappeared down the track and all that remained was settling dust. “I’m going to start working again,” said Celeste to Robert as they walked back into the garden.

“I think that’s a very good idea,” he replied, pleased.

“Me, too. I really enjoyed sewing the last square. I’d forgotten how much pleasure sewing gave me.”

“So, what did you embroider on it?”

She smiled. “The sun,” she replied.

He smiled back. “The sun. I think that’s very appropriate.”

“So do I. For more than one reason. The sun is happy. The sun is light.” She slipped her hand into his. “Light is eternal and so is Jack.”





Turn the page to read an extended excerpt from Santa Montefiore’s