But for now I press my lips to Theresa’s head. I touch her cheek, and I hold her very close.
By the time we get down to the stables, the riders are mounted, the horses milling now, ready for the off. My father notices us standing with the followers, Theresa holding my arm. He smiles and touches his crop to his cap. I pluck Annie from the ground and set her on the stone wall, my arm encircling her waist. She points to the horses.
‘Granda,’ she says.
The horses’ bits jangle, they toss their heads, snorting steam into the cold morning air. And then the huntsman lifts his horn and blows: he blows long and hard, and the pure sound of an English winter goes pealing out across the valley. Theresa’s grip on my arm tightens, the hunt moves off. As the horses canter by, I look at Annie. Her mouth is open, she is spellbound by the world opening before her. And she laughs. It will never be the same, I know that. It will never be as it was. Sometimes, I suppose, I’ll forget, and for a few fleeting moments she’ll be mine again, utterly. But not always. For the rest of the time I imagine it will be just like this: though I’ll love her with all my heart, she’ll remain both mine and his. And yet somehow that no longer seems an insufferable burden. Life is strange. My daughter, my beautiful daughter, she turns and looks up at me now, her eyes shining, lit with wonder and delight. Who could deny her? I will never deny her. All too late for Daniel, I forgive.
Afterword
Other works by Grant Sutherland
can be found at grantsutherland.net
Due Diligence Page 68