The boy, her child, sat at his feet and watched with him as the cluster of flowers grew the vicar brought fresh-picked daffodils. The voice had said that what had never happened was over.
Early in the morning, after Blake had gone, he would ring for a van, and after he had fixed for it to take away their possessions he would make the arrangements for the funeral, and after the funeral he would drive away from the village with her child. He would drive to a place where he and her d~ild could remember her and give her love, a place where they were safe together from guns and friends.
He sat in the chair, his fingers gripping the boy's shoulders, and watched the stream of shadowy figures come in silence from the darkness, pause by the gate, before hurrying back to the safety of their homes. Together they listened to the distant sound of waves breaking relentlessly against the shore and stared out, beyond the floral penance, into the emptiness of the black night.
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A Line in the Sand Page 43
