Twenty-two
I
Tina parked her car on the grass by the churchyard wall. She removed thepaper carefully from the flowers she had brought, then she walked inthrough the cemetery¹ gates and along the main path. She did not like thenew cemetery. She wished it had been possible for Mrs. Argyle to havebeen buried in the old churchyard which surrounded the church. Thereseemed an old- world peace there. The yew² tree and the moss- grownstones. In this cemetery, so new, so well arranged, with its main walk andthe paths radiating³ off it, everything seemed as slick and mass-producedas the contents of a supermarket.
Mrs. Argyle’s grave was well kept. It had a square marble surroundfilled with granite⁴ chips, a granite cross rising from the back of it.
Tina, holding her carnations⁵, bent⁶ to read the inscription⁷. “In lovingmemory of Rachel Louise Argyle.” Below it was the text:
“Her children shall rise up and call her blessed.”
There was a footstep behind her and Tina turned her head, startled⁸.
“Micky!”
“I saw your car. I followed you. At least—I was coming here anyway.”
“You were coming here? Why?”
“I don’t know. Just to say good-bye, perhaps.”
“Good-bye to—her?”
He nodded.
“Yes. I’ve taken that job with the oil company I told you about. I’m goingoff in about three weeks.”
“And you came here to say good-bye to Mother first?”
“Yes. Perhaps to thank her and to say I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for, Micky?”
“I’m not sorry that I killed her if that’s what you’re trying to imply. Haveyou been thinking I killed her, Tina?”
“I was not sure.”

分享到：