he should have been married to her, and not to this woman lying here. If he had been, this awful tragedy might never have happened!
Her feelings were all mixed up: envy, regret, love and hate; they were all there, etched in her aching heart for all time. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Whenever she came here, she always felt the need to apologise. ‘I know you were a friend to me, and I was always grateful for that, but it isn’t my fault if I love him, you need to understand that.’
Undoing the wrapping, she took out the flowers: twelve beautiful yellow roses. With tender loving care she set them in the pot at the foot of the headstone, her heart leaping with fear when a voice at her shoulder said, ‘I’m glad to see you’re putting them in the vase and not throwing them all over the place!’
The caretaker was an old fellow with a bent back and a sour face, and he was fed up with forever clearing up behind other people.
‘Go away!’ Lilian had no time for him. ‘Clear off. Leave me alone.’
‘Huh! No need to be so downright bloody rude! All I’m saying is, I’m not paid to sweep up after you lot, so just make sure you leave the place tidy when you go.’
He ambled off, mumbling to himself. ‘Got no respect, that’s the trouble. Damned visitors … no thought for nobody but theirselves.’
Lilian watched him for a minute before getting back to the task in hand.
When she was satisfied the flowers were arranged to her liking, she went to the tap, found the small jug which was there for the purpose and, filling it with water, returned to the headstone, where she topped up the vase.
That done, she looked down on the headstone, her voice trembling with emotion as she whispered, ‘I love him, you know that, don’t you? I’ve always loved him. You were my friend, though. When you came to the office and we talked, and you bought me presents for my birthday … and that Christmas, when I was on my own and you asked me to your house … I loved you, too, in a way …’
Emotions overwhelmed her. ‘It was so awful … the accident and everything. I’m so sorry. It was my fault, you see. You don’t know how often I’d dreamed of getting you and the children out of the way, so me and Tom could be together. While you and the children were there, I didn’t stand a chance, don’t you see that? I wanted him, and I know he wanted me … but you got in the way!’
She gave a nervous little giggle. ‘We’ve got a chance now, though … with you gone. I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but it seems to me it was meant to happen this way.’ She outlined her plans. ‘He’s gone away for a while, you see. He said he wanted to be on his own, to think about everything – which is understandable in the circumstances.’
She stood up tall and proud as she declared, ‘I’ve decided to go and see him tomorrow. I know he’s ready to talk about us. He won’t turn me away, not now. Not with you out of the way for good. You see, he’s been feeling guilty about wanting me, that’s what it is. But it’ll be all right now, you’ll see.’
Suddenly she heard a sound behind her. Swinging round, she saw a young woman approaching from the bushes. ‘What are you doing hiding there?’ A kind of madness took hold of her. ‘What are you up to?’ Lilian was afraid the stranger might have heard what she’d been saying.
‘I’m not “up to” anything!’ Gloria laughed with embarrassment. ‘I was just delivering flowers,’ she said. ‘I took the wrong turn and had to cut through the bushes.’ Feeling threatened by the striking woman with her long auburn curls, she told Lilian, ‘I’m sorry to interrupt.’
Spying the pretty bouquet of flowers in her arms, Lilian asked, ‘Are they for here?’
‘Yes.’
‘But there’s no room in the vase now.’
‘Oh, it’s all right. Look!’ Shifting the flowers, she revealed how they were contained in a vase of their own. ‘The boss decided this was the best way of going on. You’re right. That vase is far too small. We’ve got a regular order, you see, and sometimes, if there’s flowers in the vase, I have to take mine back … it’s such a shame.’
Lilian wondered what was the matter with the young woman. Her voice was quaking, and she seemed in a hurry to get away. ‘You’d best do what you came for then.’ Lilian stepped aside. ‘I’m just going, anyway,’ she said. ‘I’ll leave you to get on with it.’
Gloria nodded her appreciation. ‘Like I say … I’m sorry to have interrupted.’
‘It’s all right.’ Lilian glanced at the headstone. ‘She was a friend of mine. It was a terrible thing that happened.’
‘Yes, I know … Mr Arnold told us. Terrible business!’
Lilian had a question. ‘Are the flowers from him?’
‘Yes.’
‘They’re lovely.’
She ran her gaze over the mix of dahlias, carnations and roses, all bright and dazzling. ‘I should think they were expensive.’
‘Yes. Very.’
‘I’d better go.’ It hurt her to realise that Tom was still sending flowers to his late wife. ‘Be careful not to hide mine.’ Another lingering glance, before she hurried away.
Behind her, Gloria shivered. ‘God. She may be a looker, but she’s a strange one!’ Setting the flowers beside the ones Lilian had brought, she tweaked them until they were to her satisfaction, then she stood up. She glanced around her nervously. Delivering flowers to the churchyard was not her favourite pastime, especially when they were meant for this particular place, and she thought she’d heard a noise.
It was probably nothing, she reasoned, turning and heading back to the car park, and her waiting van. She had another few deliveries to make in the churchyard, and then she’d be on her way.
She had finished the last of the jobs here, when she heard hurried steps behind her. ‘Oi, you!’ The old caretaker was out of breath as he waddled to catch up with her. ‘Where the devil d’you think you’re going?’
‘What do you mean?’ She recognised him straight off. He was the one who had alerted her last time, when the flowers had been destroyed.
‘What do I mean?’ Grabbing her by the arm, he urged her to get out of the van. ‘I’ll show you what I mean!’
Leading her back to the far side of the big churchyard, he pointed to where she had recently set the flowers beside Lilian’s. ‘I suppose you were going off without clearing that little lot up, were you?’
‘Oh, my God!’ She could hardly believe her eyes. The vase, the flowers she had brought, were all smashed and strewn about the churchyard. It seemed whoever did it must have been driven by a terrible hatred, for not only was every head removed from each flower, but the stems were torn to tiny pieces.
‘See what I have to put up with?’ The old caretaker was beside himself. ‘It’s bad enough clearing up the usual rubbish, without being made to clear up deliberate vandalism!’
‘They were all right when I left – what – quarter of an hour ago,’ she muttered. ‘There was this woman … she was talking to …’ A thought occurred to her. ‘Oh, my God!’
The old man’s voice pierced her thoughts. ‘You’d best clean it all up, ’cause I’m not going to!’
Before she could protest he had stomped off, and Gloria had no choice but to clear up the mess, retrieving the widely strewn pieces and carrying them to the nearest bin.
When she returned to the shop, it was to an icy reception. ‘Where on earth have you been?’ Mrs Taylor was hopping mad. ‘I’ve had to manage all on my own this past hour.’
‘I’ve been at the churchyard.’
‘What