by Max Gilbert
"Chris?"
They had reached the crossroads.
"Yes, I know what happened, Tony." Chris smiled. "And I know things are going to happen to David in the future-wonderful things. But that's in the future. For now, I've made up my mind not to think about it too closely."
Tony smiled back, understanding. "You're right. Enjoy your lovely family, Chris. You're a lucky man." Tony straightened his tie. "Presentable?"
"Presentable, old son."
"Right ... Wish me luck. Cheerio."
Tony walked quickly away along the street.
At the crossroads, Chris paused for a moment, looking around at the village he called home, the handful of cottages, Mark Faust's store, the pea-green village hall, the tip of the church tower almost hidden by autumn trees. He nodded with a quiet satisfaction-then he followed his family down to the sea.