by G I Tulloch
"I finished what you started, like I said I would." Then his voice took on a tone of mild admonishment. "You could have told me about Bel you know. It could have made things so much easier."
He took the flowers he had been holding, and put them into a vase by the headstone.
"But then you didn't expect it to turn out like it did, so I let you off. I'll take care of her, like you asked me to." He paused and raised an eyebrow, a sudden thought occurring to him. "Did you ask her to look after me? I wouldn't put it passed you."
He stood and put his hands in his pockets before he continued in the slow pace of relaxed conversation with an old friend.
"I don't suppose you recognised the driver did you? Or maybe you did. You know it had nothing to do with anything important, don't you? You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. She's gone now, the victim of her own destruction."
He bent to arrange the flowers in the vase before standing up.
"It's all over now. Gone. Time to move on. For all of us."
He turned, the warm sun in his face, and strolled slowly back along the tidy borders and neat paths to the cemetery gates, where Bel was waiting.
--The End--