Fractured(93)

I nodded, closer to tears than I had realised, as suddenly all the pain of that night threatened to overcome me.

‘The inscription was so sad,’ I whispered. ‘“Lost too soon at 18 years. Cherished son and loyal friend. Our love for you will live on for ever.”’

I hadn’t realised the words had etched themselves into my mind every bit as much as they had been engraved in the marble.

‘It was awful, I felt like my heart was breaking, standing there, missing you, loving you… I just sort of dropped to the ground beside you.’

He moved swiftly then close to me, and for a bizarre moment I thought he was re-enacting my memories by falling to his knees, just as I had done. And then I realised it wasn’t both knees he was on… but one.

He still had hold of my hand.

Snow fell around us in magical swirls. There was a look on his face that I knew would remain with me until the end of time.

‘Rachel,’ he began, his voice not entirely steady.

‘Oh my God,’ I breathed.

‘Will you marry me?’

The remembered horror of the location disintegrated under the power of his love. The force of his feelings pulling me back from the dangerous memories. Saving me all over again.

‘I can’t believe,’ I began, my voice a mixture of laughter and tears, ‘that someday I’ll be telling our grandchildren that their grandfather actually proposed to me in a cemetery!’

If there had been even the tiniest glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes, my words removed it in an instant.

‘Is that a yes?’

I got down on the frozen ground before him, and whispered softly against his lips.

‘Oh yes.’





13


Six Weeks Later

I descended the stairs slowly and carefully, holding up the hem of my long ivory-coloured dress.

My father was waiting at the bottom tread, trying very hard to hold on to his smile.

As his hand reached out to take mine, a single tear escaped his eye and trickled like a lost diamond down his cheek.

‘Your mum should be here to see this. She would be so proud of you.’

I reached up to kiss him, breathing in the familiar clean smell of his aftershave.

‘Hush now, Dad, you’ll make me cry and undo all of Sarah’s hard work.’

I looked around the hall and living room; from upstairs it had sounded as though there had to be at least a hundred people here.

‘Has everyone left already?’

His glance swept the empty house.

‘They have, my love. It’s just you and me. The car is waiting outside.’

I drew in a steadying sigh. It was time.

‘Nervous?’ questioned my father, handing me my bouquet of deep red roses that the florist had delivered.

I shook my head with a smile. ‘Just excited.’

He took my hand again and led me towards the front door.

‘Time to go, Rachel.’


The six-week engagement had been swallowed up by wedding preparations. I guess there would be some curious glances at my waistline today to see if that would explain our unseemly haste. They would be wrong, of course, but if challenged it was an easier explanation to give than the truth. How would they react if they had heard the conversation between Jimmy and myself on this matter?

‘I don’t want to wait,’ he had confessed, only a few days after Christmas. ‘I’ve already waited far too long for you.’

His words had filled me with a warm glow, but I still had a major concern.

‘I know you think I’m talking nonsense here,’ I began, ‘but let me just say this once and then I promise never to speak of it again.’

He gave a small nod. I suppose he guessed what I was going to say.

‘This thing that happened to me… whatever it was… I think it started when I hurt my head in that car accident, and then got totally crazy after I was mugged and got injured again…’

‘Go on,’ he urged, as I frowned, struggling to formulate what I was trying to say.

‘What if something happens to me again? What if I somehow go back? What if something happens and everything changes again?’

He pulled me to him then, kissing me slowly and thoroughly as though to chase the ridiculous notion away.

‘Nothing like that is going to happen,’ he promised. ‘You’re not going anywhere, not without me. I won’t let you.’ It was a beautiful declaration but he could see I was still troubled.

‘There are no guarantees about anything in life, Rachel. Accidents and illnesses happen, we can’t do anything about that. My job can be dangerous sometimes, and God knows you can get into serious trouble just getting out of bed! But we can’t let it rule our lives.’

He was right. Hadn’t the last two months taught me how important it was to grasp onto any chance at happiness and hang on to it for dear life?