The Swallow and the Hummingbird(167)

‘You seem better today, George.’ She sighed. ‘I know it must be frustrating not being able to talk, but you will in time because your spirit is so strong, you’ll overcome this. I know you will.’ She turned and looked into his eyes, now shadowed and forlorn. Her heart buckled at his helplessness. ‘We love you so much,’ she said, appalled that her voice had been reduced to a mere whisper. He blinked back at her and a single tear caught in his long eyelashes. With a tender hand she gently wiped it away. Bending forwards she kissed him. He gazed into her face for a long while, then scribbled on his pad, ‘I don’t deserve you.’

‘But you do,’ she protested, pressing her cheek to his. ‘You deserve all the love I have to give.’

George stared out across the wide expanse of ocean. The sky was bluer than he had ever seen it and the sea glittered and sparkled. He felt drawn to it, as if a strong force were pulling at him, beckoning him towards it, to bathe his broken body in the healing waters. He wanted to leap out of his wheelchair and run down the path to the beach, but he was paralyzed and imprisoned within the bondage of useless flesh and bones. Then he saw a figure running with her arms outstretched, her tangled seaweed hair flying out behind her, her laughter like the chuckle of gulls as she let the wind carry her up the sand. She wore a thin summer dress and cardigan and her freckled face was alive with exhilaration. He tried to cry out. ‘Rita! Rita!’ but his voice was lost deep in his chest, where his heart now began to burst with longing. He managed to lift a hand. Perhaps she would see that small gesture and know that he was calling to her. Then she turned and began waving at him, encouraging him to follow. Didn’t she know that he couldn’t? Her hands moved in slow motion, her smile large and inviting. He tried to shake his head, to tell her that he was a cripple. That he couldn’t move, however much he wanted to. But then his will grew greater than the physical resistance of his flesh. He floated out of his wheelchair, leaving his decrepit body limp and crumpled behind him. He felt a surge of relief as he drifted up across the lawn, over the beach where Rita was waving at him joyously and out across the sea. He felt the easy movement of his limbs as if they were made of sunbeams. His spirit was filled with bliss as he passed wheeling gulls towards a greater light. Then he saw them, their faces bright with youth and contentment. Jamie Cordell, Rat Bridges, Lorrie Hampton and his father, Trees and many more, in the distance, welcoming him home.

Rita had never read Reverend Hammond’s bible. It had sat on the side table, ignored, for years. Until now. She picked it up and ran her fingers over the leather cover. He had only been trying to help. They all had, but she hadn’t understood then. She had been too afraid to move on in case of more disappointment. The disappointment of the past was familiar – she had grown accustomed to living there – but now Rebecca had rewritten Max’s past, everything had changed. She wanted to be part of that change.

She got into her car and drove over to Elvestree. Max was in his study working. When she stood in the doorway, smiling and radiant, he cocked his head to one side and frowned at her.

‘Will you join me for lunch?’ she asked.

‘What’s up?’ He was baffled by the sudden change in her expression. She looked younger somehow, as if she had shed an old skin like a snake. He felt his stomach turn over. After all these years she still had the power to turn his insides to jelly.

‘I need to talk to you.’

‘Where do you want to go?’

‘I want to go and give this bible back to Reverend Hammond. He’s in the Yew Tree Nursing Home. It’s not far. We can find a pub and eat outside. I haven’t done that in years.’

Max was too curious not to accept her offer. ‘I’ll just go and tell Rebecca.’

With Max at the wheel they drove down the coast. ‘So why are you giving it back now?’ he asked.

‘He lent it to me a long time ago. It’s a rather beautiful old book. I thought it would be right to give it back.’

‘Why did he give it to you in the first place?’

‘He thought I was one of God’s lost sheep because I stopped going to church.’

‘Did it work?’

‘You mean, did I start going to church again? Yes, I did. But I never read it.’

‘I’m surprised he didn’t come and try to convert me and Ruth.’

‘No, you were far too lost for him. He didn’t like to fail. Only liked semi-lost sheep like me, then he could feel he’d done God’s work when we returned to the flock. He didn’t try to convert Megagran either. Knew it was a losing battle.’