A Debt of Honour – Episode 12
A Debt Of Honour
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She shook her head. The search would be over when she decided it was over.
Squaring her shoulders, she walked to the next house.
Then the next again, on both sides of where the Caldwells had once lived.
Nobody knew when the Caldwells had left, or where they had gone – for the simple reason that nobody remembered them.
Blantyre wasn’t a little village any more, where everybody knew everybody else.
It was now part of a suburban sprawl, where people stayed only until they moved on again.
She had almost given up, but decided to do one last house. She trudged slowly up the path to the front door and rang the bell.
An elderly lady opened the door and peered out.
“Yes?”
“I’m looking for the Caldwells,” Shauna began.
“Which one?”
Taken aback, Shauna blinked.
“Neil. Neil Caldwell.”
The old lady stared.
“Well, you’re looking in the wrong place,” she finally said.
“Try High Blantyre cemetery – he was buried there three, maybe four years ago . . .”
She paused.
“Are you all right? Didn’t you know?”
Numbly, Shauna shook her head.
“I’m so sorry,” the old lady said. “Maybe you should come in and sit down for a bit . . . have a cup of tea?”
“No thanks,” Shauna said. “I’ll be fine in a minute. Honestly.”
When it didn’t matter any more, the sun finally broke through the clouds.
Not even sunshine could make the old cemetery look better, or warm the desolation in Shauna’s heart.
She walked slowly along the paths at the newer end of the cemetery, scanning the headstones, a neatly wrapped bunch of red roses in her hand.
Even the birds had stopped singing, she thought bleakly.
It was all for nothing: the search, her plans, her rehearsed speech.
After over 20 minutes of searching, she came across the grave, a simple polished grey granite headstone with deeply carved black letters.
Her eyes misted over as she read. Neil Caldwell, died October 2015.
Then everything disappeared in a flood of tears.
Angrily, Shauna scrubbed her face with her free hand – she didn’t do tears.
She was bending to lay the roses at the foot of the headstone when she realised that there were other lines carved into it, beneath the name.
Aged 75 years.
Beloved husband of Martha Caldwell, died 2016 aged . . .
Shauna stepped back and the flowers fell on to the gravel in front of the headstone.
Of course! It came to her now – Neil had been named after his father.
There were two Neil Caldwells.
And it wasn’t her Neil who was buried here.
Her Neil could be anywhere. More importantly, he might very well still be alive.
Her heart pounded so fast that her head swam and she thought she might faint for the first time in her life.
Then the world slowed down again, leaving her almost gasping for air.
She read the full inscription for a second time, then slowly bent down to lift the roses and lay them gently at the foot of the stone.
Neil’s dad had always been so kind to her, even when she had destroyed all their family’s plans.
As had his mum, a small, grey-haired and gentle woman.
She was sorry they had died, and now wanted to honour their memory, thanking them for how they had helped her when her own family had effectively thrown her out.
Standing back, Shauna lowered her head and whispered a prayer for the two people whose kindness she remembered.
Stepping away, she bowed towards the grave, then lifted her head to take one last long look round the empty cemetery.
Her shoulders firmed as she turned to stride back towards her parked car.
Today, she had only begun her search. Now she must set out to finish it.