Then and Always (31 page)

“Ahem,” came from behind us. We broke apart, not guiltily, but with obvious reluctance. “I hope you two can behave yourself for an hour or so in church,” my father warned.

“We’ll do our best, Tony,” promised Jimmy.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” I assured him, tucking my arm under his as we walked down the path to Jimmy’s car. “I’m not going to embarrass you in front of the vicar!”

The pathway leading up to the church was lined with flickering tea lights in glass jars. The church doors were open, and inside, the choir was singing a familiar carol to greet the large congregation. I paused for a moment on the path, taking it all in: the church spire covered in snow, the glowing candles, the music, and, of course, the man at my side.

“So incredibly beautiful,” I breathed in wonderment.

His eyes ignored our surroundings and everyone else; they were only upon me.

“Incredibly beautiful,” he echoed.

The service seemed unbelievably touching. I even cried at the reading delivered by children from the local primary school. And when I went to reach into my bag for a tissue, Jimmy already had one out and ready for me. I dabbed at my eyes, not ashamed by the emotion. Tears of happiness were nothing to be embarrassed about.

As we filed back out into the night, Jimmy drew me to one side of the path, out of the way of the emerging congregation, who were hurrying back to their cars to escape the falling snow. My father had been waylaid by an old friend inside the church, and neither of us had realized he wasn’t behind us until we were already outside.

The temperature had dropped several degrees during the service, and despite my warm coat and scarf, I shivered violently. Jimmy drew me into the circle of his arms, pulling me against his body, whispering teasingly, “I think we’re all right with this, as long as we claim it was only to keep you warm.”

I don’t know if it was my lack of response or the stiffening of my body that alerted him that something was wrong. From my position in his embrace, I was now facing away from the church and was looking directly at the graveyard. Unbidden, the awful memories of standing beside Jimmy’s grave suddenly assailed me, so horribly vivid and real that I forgot for a moment that Jimmy was actually still very much alive.

He carefully held me away from him, saw the pain in my face, and in puzzlement turned to make out what had distressed me.

He was intuitive enough to realize exactly what I was thinking as I stared in fixed anguish at the cemetery.

“Is that where …?”

I nodded dumbly.

He threw a glance at the church doors and saw that my father had still not appeared. He took my hand and gave me a gentle tug. “Come on then.”

My feet remained rooted on the path, causing him to stop. “Are you serious?”

There was love and understanding in his eyes. “You need to see it.”

I shuddered. “I’ve already visited your gravesite. It’s not something I ever went to see again.”

But, as ever, his patient persistence was hard to resist. “There is nothing there, Rachel. Come and see.”

It wasn’t a long walk to the cemetery, but it was long enough for me to conjure up all manner of horrible outcomes. The one that fought for supremacy and won by a mile was, what if I got to the plot and found his grave there? Would I then turn to look at the man beside me and find him gone? A chill ran through me that had nothing to do with the weather. Wouldn’t that just be the perfect Christmas ghost story?

The idea that each step over the crunchy turf of the cemetery was leading me into peril was impossible to ignore.

“Where was it?” Jimmy asked softly, possibly the only person in the world to ask someone for directions to his own grave.

“Over there,” I indicated, pointing with a finger. “Beyond that group of headstones.”

He led me gently but determinedly in the direction I had identified. I read familiar inscriptions from the surrounding
tombstones as we passed. I shouldn’t know what they said, but I remembered each one vividly:
DEAREST HUSBAND, BELOVED GRANDMOTHER, MUCH LOVED FATHER
.

My feet were leaden as I walked to the spot where the man I loved had been laid to rest, after giving up his life to save mine.

Jimmy’s hand firmly gripped mine as I looked up. For a moment I could see it, I really could: the sparkling white marble tombstone was for an instant so real I felt I could almost reach out and touch it. I blinked my eyes and then saw nothing but an empty area of undisturbed grass.

“So it was here,” Jimmy said, his voice strangely humbled.

I nodded, closer to tears than I had realized, as suddenly the pain of that night threatened to overcome me.

“The inscription was so sad,” I whispered. “ ‘Lost too soon at eighteen years. Cherished son and loyal friend. Our love for you will live on forever.’ ”

I hadn’t realized the words had etched themselves into my mind.

“It was awful, I felt like my heart was breaking, standing there, missing you, loving you … I just sort of dropped to the ground beside you.”

He moved close to me, and for a bizarre moment I thought he was reenacting my memories by falling to his knees, just as I had done. And then I realized it wasn’t
both
knees he was on … but
one
.

He still had hold of my hand.

Snow fell around us in magical swirls. There was a look on his face that I knew would remain with me until the end of time.

“Rachel,” he began, his voice not entirely steady.

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

“Will you marry me?”

The remembered horror of the location disintegrated under the power of his love. The force of his feelings pulled me back from the dangerous memories, saving me all over again.

“I can’t believe,” I began, my voice a mixture of laughter and tears, “that someday I’ll be telling our grandchildren that their grandfather proposed to me in a cemetery!”

If there had been even the tiniest glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes, my words removed it in an instant.

“Is that a yes?”

I got down on the frozen ground with him, and whispered softly against his lips.

“Oh yes.”

I descended the stairs slowly and carefully, holding up the hem of my long ivory dress.

My father was waiting at the bottom tread, trying very hard to hold on to his smile.

As his hand reached out to take mine, a single tear escaped his eye and trickled like a lost diamond down his cheek.

“I wish your mum were here to see this. She would be so proud of you.”

I reached up to kiss him, breathing in the familiar clean smell of his aftershave.

“Hush now, Dad, you’ll make me cry and undo all of Sarah’s hard work.”

I looked around the hall and living room; from upstairs it had sounded as though there had to be at least a hundred people here.

“Has everyone left already?”

His glance swept the empty house.

“They have, my love. It’s just you and me. The car is waiting outside.”

I drew in a steadying sigh. It was time.

“Nervous?” questioned my father, handing me my bouquet of deep red roses.

I shook my head with a smile. “Just excited.”

He took my hand and led me toward the front door.

“Time to go, Rachel.”

THE SIX-WEEK ENGAGEMENT
had been swallowed up by wedding preparations. I guessed there would be some curious glances at my waistline to explain our haste. They would be wrong, of course, but if challenged it was an easier explanation to give than the truth. How would they have reacted if they had heard the conversation between Jimmy and myself on this matter?

“I don’t want to wait,” he had confessed, only a few days after Christmas. “I’ve already waited far too long for you.”

His words had filled me with a warm glow, but I still had a major concern.

“I know you think I’m talking nonsense here,” I began, “but let me just say this once and then I promise never to speak of it again.”

He gave a small nod. I suppose he guessed what I was going to say.

“This thing that happened to me … whatever it was … I think it started when I hurt my head in that car accident, and then got totally crazy after I was mugged and got injured again …”

“Go on,” he urged as I frowned, struggling to formulate what I was trying to say.

“What if something happens to me again? What if I somehow
go back
? What if something happens and everything changes again?”

He pulled me to him then, kissing me slowly as though to chase the ridiculous notion away.

“Nothing like that is going to happen,” he promised. “You’re not going anywhere, not without me. I won’t let you.” It was a beautiful declaration but he could see I was still worried.

“There are no guarantees about anything in life, Rachel. Accidents and illnesses happen, we can’t do anything about that. My job can be dangerous sometimes, and God knows you can get into serious trouble just getting out of bed! But we can’t let it rule our lives.”

He was right. Hadn’t the last two months taught me how important it was to grasp onto any chance at happiness and hang on to it for dear life?

“Although to be on the safe side, I may just get you a hard hat for a wedding present.”

“That’ll look nice with a veil!”

“What
I’m
more worried about,” he said in a different tone, “is what might happen if your memory
does
suddenly come back and you wake up and find yourself married to the wrong man. What if you realize it was Matt you really wanted to be with?”

There was a vulnerability in his eyes I don’t think I had ever seen before.

“So the amnesia is cured but for some reason I’m going to go completely stupid?”

He tried a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I guess we’re both worrying about something so ludicrous it’s never going to happen.”

THE LONG SILVER
car, decorated with white ribbons, was waiting by the curb. Some neighbors were watching from their front doors and gardens as my father and I emerged from the house. From somewhere nearby a small child cried out in delight, and someone started to clap, which rippled around the street.

In the back seat of the car, my father reached up to brush away a long strand of hair that had blown across my face.

“My beautiful daughter,” he said with a smile as the car pulled away from the house and began the short journey to the church.

THE CAR SWEPT
up to the entrance of the church. Waiting by the lych-gate was Sarah, resplendent in her deep red maid-of-honor dress. My dad offered me his hand as I climbed from the car. Sarah immediately swooped in and began to busy herself straightening out nonexistent creases from my dress. I looked down at my old friend, busy at my feet, a question in my eyes.

She reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Of course he’s here.”

I gave a small smile of relief.

“He’s waited his whole life for this moment, Rachel. Where else would he be?”