to say, other than apologising for the lack of resources and the many years that stood between them.
‘It hasn’t changed much here,’ Nancy said, making small talk.
Of course. She had lived here. Only not ever in the way it should have been, the way he would have liked. The version where they’d continued to take dance classes together through the years. The way his recent delirium had made him believe it had been.
‘It had changed a bit. I’ve collected hundreds of trinkets over the years, but George and Keisha kindly boxed them up for me because I was thinking of moving. You’ll be glad you’re getting to see the less cluttered version.’
‘I would have liked to have seen your things. Are you still planning on moving?’
Clive glanced round the kitchen diner where they’d positioned themselves once the kids had gone. After everything, this room didn’t hold the fears he’d thought would be here, that he’d thought would haunt him. ‘I think I should move back here. I think I was wrong to be so rash about moving. I’ve been wrong about a lot of things.’
‘None of that was your fault, though.’
Clive nodded agreement. It was cruel that his mind had wronged him. That his past memories didn’t hold a full representation of the truth. But perhaps that was a blessing. He would take a bet that young Keisha would pay to forget what had happened to her.
‘I guess all we can do now is enjoy the present. I can’t change what happened or the hurt it caused, but I can start doing whatever I can to make it right. What I thought was a dream, I have the chance to make reality.’
Clive wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. There were many ways it might go and many other people would err on the side of caution. But if life had taught him nothing else, it had taught him to be bold and brave and unapologetic.
By the time he got down onto his knee, he really had to hope Nancy didn’t run away, as there was a strong possibility he was never getting up again.
‘The sun may have risen more times than I care to count since we could last class ourselves as a couple. I know what happened was more than a storm cloud. But you are the reason I know what love is. And even though this is fifty years too late, Nancy, will you marry me?’
There was the possibility he should have waited for this moment and built up to it. Taken her to a dinner, a dance, or a walk in the countryside. But life seemed suddenly very short. It was an easy decision not to wait.
Nancy moved her hand towards her neck, a move so in keeping with how Keisha would take her pulse, that for a moment, Clive thought Nancy was going to do the same. Was his proposal enough to break her heart?
But rather than take her pulse, Nancy hooked her thumb around her necklace, pulling it out from under her top.
‘There’s just one problem.’
‘What is it? Other than the fact I can’t get up.’
On the necklace was a ring. It was beautiful and had a patchwork of small stones – emerald, ruby, sapphire, diamond – in the shape of a flower. It was exactly the kind of thing he’d choose. In fact, it was exactly the ring he’d chosen.
‘I said yes the first time, so technically we’re still engaged.’
Epilogue
Keisha
Three Months Later
It seems that life is proving to me that it’s never too late. Even with probability completely against them, here I am at Clive and Nancy’s wedding. Not only that, it appears that at thirty-one, it’s not too late for me to become a bridesmaid for the first time.
I’m not even upset that it’s a burgundy patchwork dress. Not when I’m matching Tess and Lucy and two of Clive’s great nieces, who are over all the way from Australia. They go nicely with the burgundy velvet outfits that Clive and Nancy are wearing from their date that saw this reunion happen. They also match well with the flowers inside St Saviour’s Church where they’ve decided to hold the wedding: a local church they’ve both visited over the years, but never knowingly crossed paths.
The past few months have provided Clive’s life with a massive amount of repair. It’s been the same for me. It’s funny how sometimes we can see the scar, but not know the cause. How a process,