shook as she picked out the dead blooms from the arrangement.
‘I love you, Jason and I know you loved me. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry.’
April went to cover her face with her hands, but the movement unbalanced her and she fell forward. She grabbed hold of the marble border and stared downwards past the lilies, as though she could see through the earth to the small oak box containing ash and broken dreams.
‘I miss you so much,’ she cried over and over as her tears trickled down her nose and splashed onto the thinned-out spray of bruised petals. Still sobbing, she pushed the arrangement out of the way and sank her hands into the misshapen pieces of smooth glass mixed with dead leaves and the detritus of a summer Jason had never seen. She grabbed handfuls of the pebbles and watched helplessly as they slipped through her fingers.
As one particular stone dropped, she noticed it was whiter than the rest, and when she picked it up again, it didn’t feel as cold. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she realised the pebble wasn’t glass at all. White and smooth, it appeared to be a flattened oval, but as April explored its circumference with her fingers, she noticed a dip in the centre of one of its longer edges. Turning it on its side, there was no mistaking the shape of a heart.
Squinting, April examined every millimetre of the stone. She rubbed her thumb over one side and felt a roughness that wasn’t on the other. There was a scratched engraving so faint it was difficult, but not impossible to read with the naked eye: April stared at it long enough for her tears to dry.
Her nose was blocked and her throat hurt each time she attempted to swallow back the lump of dread. This token of love had not been dropped casually, or placed gently on her husband’s grave. It had been buried out of sight. It was a gesture to be shared privately between the giver and the man whose remains lay beneath the dirt. April wasn’t meant to see it.
After months of torturing herself with guilty thoughts of betrayal, April had visited the cemetery to bury her doubts, but instead she had unearthed a secret. The warm stone burned her palm and she was tempted to hurl it across the rows of headstones and into oblivion where it belonged, but instead she dropped it into her pocket.
Her breath came out in short, shallow gasps as she fought to contain the anger and the pain. She brushed off the mud clinging to her jeans and glared at Jason’s headstone, too angry to speak. She was about to walk away when she caught sight of the bottle of beer she had left. She picked it up and in a move Jason had taught her, used the corner of the headstone and the side of her hand to knock off the bottle top. The beer tasted as bitter as her thoughts.
The fluffy dog sprinting across Pickering’s Pasture towards Tara looked like a Steiff teddy brought to life, with its tongue lolling and ears flapping. At the end of a rapidly extending leash was April, one arm stretched forward and the other trailing behind. Tara made the mistake of bending forward to greet the dog and he ploughed straight into her.
‘Oh Tara, I’m so sorry,’ April panted as she caught sight of the muddy paw marks smeared over her caped coat. ‘Dexter, will you sit still for one minute. I said sit!’
Dexter emitted an excited whine but otherwise ignored his mistress and continued to add streaks of ochre to the velvety blue of Tara’s coat. ‘It’s fine, it’s only second-hand,’ Tara said, choosing not to use the word vintage.
April’s cheeks burned as she pulled a bag of dog treats from her pocket. The cold breeze carried the scent, and with the next command, Dexter sat down and wriggled his bottom into the earth as he waited for his reward.
‘He doesn’t deserve this,’ April muttered as she threw a treat into the air for Dexter to catch. ‘He’s good most of the time but he only really listens to Mum.’
‘He’s unbelievably cute. Molly would be beside herself.’
‘I thought you might bring her with you.’
‘It’s half-term so she’s spending a few days at Mum’s while Lily’s visiting her grandparents in Newcastle. They’ll both be back for Halloween, but for now I’m enjoying some child-free time. And besides,’ Tara added, ‘I got the impression from your messages that you might prefer to talk without the interruptions of a squealing ten-year-old. So how are you?’
April yanked the lead to stop Dexter launching himself at Tara again and said, ‘Maybe we should start walking.’
‘OK, but let’s stay within sight of the car park for now. Faith shouldn’t be long.’
As they made their way down a sloping hill to the footpath that followed the banks of the Mersey, Tara expected April to explain what was behind her invitation to take a Sunday stroll, but instead she asked, ‘How’s the house move going?’
‘We’re on target to complete contracts by early December,’ Tara replied, rubbing her jaw. It had been aching for days and she suspected she was grinding her teeth in her sleep. ‘Six weeks and counting.’
‘I’m so happy for you,’ April said, but her voice cracked. Recovering quickly, she added, ‘Are the girls excited yet?’
‘We’re making progress of sorts. Molly made me an offer the other night that I couldn’t refuse.’
As April turned to Tara, she held up a hand to shield her face from the low sun. Dark shadows bruised her eyes. ‘Why do you make it sound like that’s a bad thing?’
‘We had a bit of a conundrum with the new house,’ Tara began. ‘Of the two bedrooms for the girls, one is a double and the other a tiny box room. Iain suggested they draw straws and when Molly won, Lily said she didn’t care, she would go and live with Joanna’s parents. The whole thing was about to degenerate into a family meltdown when Molly quietly suggested that she didn’t mind taking the smaller room if it meant Lily would stay … and if I agreed to get her a dog for Christmas.’
‘Wow, she’s some negotiator.’
‘I’ve told her I’ll only consider getting some sort of pet when we’re settled, and she seems happy with that for now.’
‘And Lily?’ asked April.
‘We’ll see what happens.’
‘It’s the unknown that scares her.’
‘It scares us all,’ Tara replied as they reached the river’s edge. ‘What’s wrong, April?’
Her friend looked across the water towards Ince Marshes where the brutal industrial landscape cut into the horizon. ‘Maybe we should wait for Faith.’
‘Did someone mention my name?’
Dexter had been digging up sods of earth on the embankment, but stopped at the sound of a new voice. His hindquarters tensed as he prepared to launch himself at Faith, who was wearing a full-length woollen coat in a beautiful shade of olive green.
Faith peered at the dog over the rim of her sunglasses. ‘Down!’ she said in a low growl.
Dexter pressed his body to the ground while April’s jaw dropped. ‘Here, you take him,’ she said, offering the
