Devil's Choice
Page 17
It took a second for Catherine to realise this man was William. The manacles were gone, he was neatly shaved and dressed and deep anger which seemed to have scarred his previous demeanour was gone. He looked up at them both and Catherine took a seat opposite and turned to lift Amelie up beside her.
But Amelie had instead walked to the other side of the table and was now holding out her arms, saying, “Lift me up Grandpa William.”
He lifted her up to place her on his lap. Instead she hugged herself to his neck, drew back and planted a kiss on his cheek.”
Then she earnestly opened the paper she was holding and spread it on the table before him. It was a picture of a big stick figure and two small stick figures, each holding a hand of the big person. There were some wavy lines underneath and some other wavy squiggles behind the people
This is a picture of Sophie and me; she is the one with the hair she said, pointing to some spiky things growing out of one small head. I am the one with no hair, she said pointing to the other person. We are on the beach walking along with you one day when you get out of prison. I am looking forward to that day. This picture is to say thank you from Sophie and me for saving my life.
The big man was silent, he just looked at the little girl with glistening eyes, then he gently stroked her cheek and put a bit arm around his shoulder. She lay her head against his cheek.
At last he spoke, “Thank you granddaughter, Thank you Amelie. Please say thank you to Sophie too.”
Ten Years Later
It is a perfect summer’s day at Little Bay, the beach under the rocky cliffs lapped by wavelets. A picnic rug I spread on the sand, spread with picnic food. Five people sit in the sand, looking fondly into the water.
As one looks closer one recognises them; all a few years older. The two men are sharing a joke from a recent fishing trip; they have a similarity in body shape and features, though one looks about ten years older than the other.
The three women sit together, not talking but watching the beach with comfortable familiarity. It is clear they are all family, three generations, grandmother, mother and adult daughter.
In the water an older and powerfully built man plays with three children. One of them looks to be about eleven or twelve though her figure is thin and waif like. She has funny spiky hair which pokes up from her head at odd angles, it won’t submit to be flattened by the water. Her face is thin but striking with big wide eyes and an ethereal beauty. In the water tugging at his hands are a boy of about ten and a girl a couple years younger, both bodies a picture of robust and healthy childhood.
The boy calls out, “Grandpa William, it is not fair, Amelie has been sitting on your shoulders for too long and now it’s my turn.”