A Mother Forever Elaine Everest (best beach reads of all time .txt) 📖
- Author: Elaine Everest
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‘Perhaps we should ask the man with the big stick,’ he suggested, pointing to where Ernie stood, having just exited the small chapel. From inside, mourners could be heard singing ‘Abide with Me’ as the service began.
Ruby smiled at her son’s suggestion. ‘That is a walking cane,’ she explained, pointing to the ornate silver-tipped cane. ‘He uses it to guide the mourners from his place at the head of the possession. However, that is a good idea. I recognize the gentleman as someone I spoke to yesterday. Shall we go and speak to him, and perhaps you could look more closely at the horses?’
Ernie, dressed in the formal attire of an undertaker, nodded formally to Ruby before removing his shiny black top hat. ‘Fancy seeing you here,’ he said politely. ‘You are a little late for the service, but I’m sure we can seat you at the back of the chapel if we are quiet.’
Ruby shook her head, looking worried. The last thing she wanted was to have to sit through the funeral service of somebody she didn’t even know; she wasn’t sure George would like it either, never having attended such a ceremony before. She knew he was already unsettled by being in the cemetery. ‘No, thank you, I’m here to pay my respects to my daughter. You may recall you gave me some information yesterday?’ While she spoke, George was happily being lifted up by one of Ernie’s colleagues so that he could stroke the head of one of the magnificent black horses. ‘The problem is, I have no idea where to find the grave. Do you know if there’s someone who can help me?’
Ernie scratched his head thoughtfully. ‘I have a feeling the stonemason is laying the headstone today, so if you walk down that footpath you will see someone at work. That’ll be where you’ll find your baby’s resting place.’
Ruby thanked the man and took George by the hand, urging him to go with her when he wanted nothing more than to stay and stroke the horses. ‘Look, George, there’s the river,’ she said, bending down beside him, pointing to where the Thames glistened in the sunshine.
‘Is that where our house is?’ he asked.
‘I would think it’s further over to the right, behind those big factory buildings. I didn’t realize we were so high up here. It’s a magnificent view.’ And a lovely place to lay loved ones to rest, she thought, as they resumed their slow walk along the narrow pathway that wound between the graves. Around the cemetery there was an expanse of grass that would no doubt one day be filled with line upon line of similar gravestones to the ones they walked past. Occasionally a larger monument was seen. There must be important people interred there, she thought, not wishing to voice her words aloud in case it worried George. Perhaps it had not been very wise to bring him with her, but then, he had asked about the baby, and it was only right for him to understand the truth. She was not a believer in keeping things from a child. ‘That looks like the stonemason,’ she said, pointing to where a man in a brown apron was instructing two young helpers. A woman stood watching.
Ruby ran a hand across her hot brow. The weather had warmed up a little after the wet days earlier in the month. She hadn’t expected to have to walk as far as they had, and her legs felt wobbly and just about able to hold her upright. She leant against a nearby gravestone and took a deep breath.
‘I say, are you unwell?’ A woman wearing a smart black velvet hat and matching coat, with a fox fur draped elegantly around her shoulders, stopped and took Ruby’s arm. ‘Are you here for a funeral?’ she asked, looking back to where the carriages stood in front of the chapel.
‘I just need to catch my breath for a few minutes,’ Ruby said as George gave her a worried look.
‘We’ve come to see my baby sister Sarah’s grave,’ he said solemnly.
The woman looked genuinely sorrowful. ‘Oh, my poor dears. Come, let me help you. Where is the grave?’
Ruby took a deep gulp of air. ‘George, why not run on ahead?’ she said, not wishing him to hear too much of what she was about to say. As he did as he was told, she turned to the woman. ‘Thank you for your concern. I’m not sure I should be saying this, but my daughter doesn’t have her own grave. I came here to look for her.’
‘I don’t understand . . .’
‘When Sarah was born, she never took a breath. It meant she was taken away from me while I was ill with a fever. Through the kindness of friends . . . I discovered she was buried with another recently deceased person . . .’ Her voice faltered.
‘My dear, there is no need to say any more. I do understand the situation. I have heard of this happening. You say you have been advised of where she has been interred?’
‘Yes, I was told the stonemason is at the grave and about to lay the headstone for a Miss Allinson. I was heading in that direction when I felt a little weak.’
‘The deceased Miss Allinson was my younger sister; I am Mrs Grant . . .’
If Ruby had the strength in her legs to turn and run at that point she would have done so. Would she get anyone into trouble by saying what she knew?
‘I
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