was home? she wondered unhappily, aware that Elizabeth Reed was watching them, and no doubt deploring Ben’s lack of discretion. Certainly not in Brazil, where Harry had died, and definitely not at Perry Edmunds, where her in-laws had always lived.
Tears came, unbidden, to Sara’s eyes and she tried to blink them away. She’d tried not show her grief too openly for Ben’s sake, but now and then the realisation overwhelmed her.
How could the urban guerillas whom Harry had so often negotiated with and trusted have mistaken him for a political opponent? The ambush, on a remote and mountainous section of the highway, had put Harry in the wrong place at the wrong time. The attempted assassination of the diplomat whom Harry had been accompanying had gone tragically wrong, and her husband had not expected to die at the hands of people he had previously befriended.
A bullet from one of the guerillas’ illegally obtained rifles had hit Harry in the neck, and although he had been rushed to a hospital in São Joaquim it had been too late. His life had proved to be just another trophy in the increasing war that was raging between affluence and poverty, power and subjugation in the world today. Ironically, Harry had been working to break down the very divides in the country’s class system he had died for. When they had brought the news to Sara in Rio she had felt his frustration above all else…
‘Will we be going home in that long black car?’
Ben’s question relieved the sense of anguish she was feeling, and she realised that she owed it to Harry’s memory to give her son all the love he deserved. It wasn’t his fault that his father was dead, nor hers—only Harry’s mother found that hard to accept. But she had to acknowledge that that part of her life was over, and she and Ben were on their own now against the world.
‘I expect so,’ she answered him gently, and as she returned her eyes to the coffin it was lowered majestically into the ground. It was left to her to make one final gesture, and, plucking a peach-coloured rose from a wreath, she tossed it swiftly into the grave.
The vicar gave his final blessing and gradually the mourners began to drift away. Some of them—the Reverend Mr Bowden amongst them—approached Sara, and, clasping her hand, offered their sincere condolences. Others, she knew, she would see back at the house—not least the staff at Perry Edmunds, who had loved Harry as their own.
She wondered if any of them found it as difficult to equate the humorous man she had known and loved with the gloomy service in the churchyard. It was hard to imagine leaving Harry here, and she had to remind herself that it was only his body, not his spirit, in the grave. In spirit Harry would always inhabit the warmer places of the world—the villa they had lived in in Kuwait, perhaps, or the sprawling bungalow in Rio.
‘Sara.’
She stiffened.
She’d been expecting to hear that voice ever since she and Ben had arrived in England. She’d actually been half-afraid that he might come to meet her at the airport. After all, she’d reasoned, he was bound to have flown home for his brother’s funeral. Harry had been the only sibling he had.
But only Harry’s father had been waiting in the arrivals hall. And when they’d arrived at the house only Elizabeth Reed had been there. She hadn’t learned until the following morning that Alex was on a filming assignment in Kashmir, and that so far they had not been able to reach him.
‘I’m sorry.’ Alex spoke again, but whether he was apologising for being late or offering his condolences for Harry’s death she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t particularly care, she thought rather bitterly. It would have been so much easier for her if he’d stayed away.
‘I know you must be thinking the worst, but I did get here as fast as I could. Unfortunately I didn’t get into London until after midnight, and I couldn’t get a connecting flight until this morning.’
His explanation was legitimate enough, and Sara had no doubt that he had come as quickly as he’d been able. Bearing in mind his busy schedule, she amended uncharitably. Alex always had lived life to the full.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she replied now, her expression revealing nothing of the turmoil she felt inside. He’d be gone again in a couple of days, she reassured herself tensely. Until then, surely she could be polite.
‘We’ll talk at the house,’ Alex added, and she was forced to meet his piercing eyes. ‘Just remember—I’m here if you need me. It’s what Harry would have wanted, I know.’
Do you? she thought.
For a moment Sara felt a wave of almost crippling fury sweep over her, and her anger demanded some kind of outlet for its force. But Harry’s parents had joined them, Elizabeth taking Ben’s hand and leading him away, turning them into a family unit which she had no right to break—well, not at this moment anyway, Sara thought grimly. Later they would see. She didn’t need anyone’s help, particularly not Alex Reed’s.
To her relief he seemed to sense that this was not the time to put pressure on her, and although she resented it he accompanied his mother to the car. Watching him talking to Ben in that charming way he had, introducing himself to her son and making him smile, irritated her beyond belief. He had no right to do that, she thought indignantly. Harry’s son meant nothing to him.
‘Come along.’
Harry’s father touched her arm, and she turned to look at Robert Reed with some remorse. This wasn’t easy for any of them, and she had to keep her head until it was over.
‘Don’t think too badly of him,’ murmured her fatherin-law as they walked to where the limousines were waiting, and Sara had no difficulty in interpreting whom he meant. ‘If Newcastle hadn’t been fogbound, he’d have landed here before nine o’clock. As it was, the flight was diverted to Tees-side and he had to hire a car from there.’
‘Well, it is a raw day,’ Sara offered, realising that she couldn’t expect his father to understand how she felt about her brother-in-law. And fortunately Robert didn’t notice anything amiss.
‘I imagine it’s quite a change from the kind of climate you’re used to,’ he commented. And then, as if regretting his implication, he went on, ‘You must think of Perry Edmunds as your home now.’
‘Thank you.’
Sara managed the words of gratitude, but she knew that she couldn’t stay here. Apart from anything else she had to get a job. She had no intention of living on the Reeds’ charity, and she doubted if Harry’s pension would support her. She had been working in London when she’d met Harry, and that was where she expected to make her home.
All the same, as she climbed into the back of the limousine beside Elizabeth and her son she couldn’t help thinking how swiftly things could change. Two weeks ago the most important decision she’d had to make was which wine to serve at dinner. Now her husband was dead, her son was without a father, and the pleasant life they’d had in Rio was just a bitter-sweet memory.
‘Are you all right?’
Her mother-in-law was eyeing her intently now, and Sara wondered what Elizabeth thought she’d seen in her face—regret, perhaps, grief, sorrow certainly, but was she looking for remorse, for a self-reproach that Sara couldn’t feel?
She knew that her mother-in-law blamed her for Harry’s taking his family to Brazil in the first place. Working for the Foreign Office, he could no doubt have requested a posting in London after Kuwait, but
