47
Sunday, 3 July 1966
Her mum and dad were in bed, but she could not be sure they were asleep so was extra specially careful. She had her clothes on over her pyjamas and her anorak over her jumper. This made it hard to walk, but she would be warm.
After tea, when her mum was in bed and her dad was in Michael’s room (even though it was empty), Mary had packed provisions for her expedition. Torch, her dad’s trowel, some Fruit Salad chews and a ball of string. The last had no direct use, but she had read somewhere that it always came in handy. She was disappointed Michael wasn’t there to see, but if he were he would only give her away.
Don’t forget the key.
She snatched the key off the hook in the hall.
I’m scared.
Shut up. She cycled down British Grove, head down. The duffel bag was heavier than she had expected. She knew the way without a map. The task was not for scaredy cats, she informed Michael. She had a stitch in her side and despite the biting night air she was hot. She leant her bike against the wall and squeezed through the break in the cemetery railings.
Mary Thornton had not known that in the city it was never dark and found she could see without her torch. The path was a pale line between the graves. She didn’t like being so close to dead people; she had made her plan in the sunshine.
The Angel was taller than ever. Mary felt afraid. She would not let Michael see. If he was watching over her like the vicar said, he knew anyway.
She battled through a bush of ground elder, her duffel bag an impediment, and then did a lopsided crawl to a clearing in the middle. She laid down the bag and scrabbled furiously at the earth with her trowel. She dug a hole a foot deep and about eighteen inches in circumference and lowered the bag down.
‘Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return.’
She clawed at the soil until the bag was covered and then made good the disturbance with a scattering of dried pine needles and leaves. She shoved her way out, splintering and snapping branches, careless of discovery.
The Angel watched the little girl tear up and down maze-like paths until she found the gap in the railings.