It took Smith half an hour to find the simple grey gravestone. He cleared away the weeds and rank grass with his knife and cleared a path six feet by three from the stone before kneeling at the head.
“Well, mother,” he said. “You had a hard life and a lonely death, but at least somebody had the decency to erect a stone for you.”
Only the wind in the trees whispered a reply. Smith knelt beside the stone for a full fifteen minutes, reliving old memories and stifling half-forgotten regrets before he stood again. He was in the furthest corner of the graveyard, with the square tower of the ancient church visible above the yew trees.
“I couldn’t care for you in life,” Smith said, “but I’ll look after you in death.”
There was no reply from the quiet grave.
Smith stood a few moments longer, u
