a weird angle. Then I pick my way around the graveyard that encircles the little church. I’ve almost walked in a complete circle when, skirting the back wall, I hear voices. People visiting a grave, I imagine.
I stop in my tracks, realising I recognise the voice of the person who’s talking.
It’s Maud.
The thing is, I’m trying. I really am. I wake up in the morning and I think, Right! I’m going to be cheerful today. I’ll smile at people and compliment their outfit. Yes, I know. Ha-ha! Laugh all you like. You always do. You know me so well. You know that deep down, I do care. It’s just I always find it hard to show my feelings.
People think I’m just a bitter old busybody these days, and the thing is, they’re probably right. No, don’t argue with me. It’s true.
There’s a silence and I stand there, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, especially when Maud is pouring her heart out like that to someone.
But I miss those grandkids of mine, even more than…well, I don’t have to say it, do I? Why they had to move to Scotland is beyond me. I mean, I know why they went. It was Terry’s job. But before they left, I had to stop myself begging Connie not to go. I did my usual stiff upper lip thing, because I knew she was feeling wobbly as well, and I told her I’d be fine but that I’d expect regular visits from her and the kids. Even if Terry was working, they could still come down and stay. But I suppose Scotland is such a long way away…
Deciding I can’t stay here all day while the pair of them chat, I walk round the side of the church - and I stop dead in my tracks.
Maud is talking to no-one.
At least, not a real, live person.
Oh, Harold, why did you have to leave me all alone? I kept telling you that craving for cream cakes would be the death of you. I’m just not equipped to carry on alone. People always assumed I was the one wearing the trousers in the relationship and somehow you weren’t as strong as me. But we knew different, didn’t we?
She’s standing in front of a gravestone, her head bowed, and my heart gives an uneasy lurch. I feel terrible having eavesdropped on such a private conversation between her and her lovely Harold…
I put my head down and hurry past, through the wooden gate, hoping Maud’s too involved in her conversation to notice me. Then I head back to the footpath and leave the main road, following the path as it meanders down to the stream. Picking up a well-worn path that tracks the stream, I start walking along it, thinking about Maud.
Hearing her pour out her heart like that to Harold has made me feel more sympathetic towards her. I guess it shows you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover – that people have things going on in their lives that could turn even the most amiable person into a ‘bitter old busy-body’, as Maud herself said.
I arrive at a stile and I sit on the fence, the icy wind reddening my cheeks, eating my chocolate, and staring out over the wintry scene. We’ve already had more snow in a week than we usually have all year. And there’s a lot more on the way, according to the forecast. That’s fine with me. I love the snow.
The light is fading as I turn and head for home, the sun a ball of fire peeping through the tree tops against a cold, clear sky. Rather than walking back by the stream, I find a path that leads eventually onto Silverbells high street.
As I’m walking along, I spot Bella, Jamie’s mum, walking towards me with a woman I don’t recognise.
She waves, recognising me.
‘Hi, there.’ I greet her with a smile. ‘I was so glad to hear that Jamie turned up, none the worse for wear. You must have been so relieved.’
‘Ugh! Kids, eh?’ She shakes her head. ‘I think I aged ten years overnight when he went missing. Have you met my friend, Maggie?’ She does the introductions and we shake hands a little awkwardly.
In contrast to Bella, who’s so friendly, Maggie seems a little distracted.
‘Nice to meet you,’ she mutters, then she breaks off and shouts at someone across the road, making me jump. ‘Becca? Becca! Come and walk back with us!’
The young girl called Becca scowls over