He kisses my cheek, holds my hand, turns me down the steps.
‘Don’t worry,’ he says. ‘You know, whatever happens …’
He can’t make those three words. My feet are dizzy as I move away from him. They leave a trail in the dew. I look back. The sun is brighter and he squints. Then he raises a hand and smiles and just for a moment he’s the photograph that Nanda’s got of him all those years ago. At Thwaite Cottages – his shirt blowing in the wind, a ragged trilby, a guitar wrapped in an old piece of eiderdown. My eyes seal that image. I turn away, moving unsteadily down the garden. When I look back, he’s gone. The sky above me is untethered. I know nothing. Nothing. Except the reason why I lied for him.
First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster, 2003
This edition first published by Pocket Books, 2003
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Copyright © Alice Jolly, 2003
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents
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