It was the smell of toast and coffee that woke Sarah on Sunday morning.  Al’s absence was explained as he entered the bedroom with a breakfast tray, and placed it very carefully on the foot of the bed.

“Shall I turn on the television, Madam? I’ve heard that you like to watch the news while you sip your coffee and nibble on your toast.”

Al climbed back into bed, used the remote, and very carefully pulled the tray towards them, putting the coffee mugs on each bedside cabinet.  Sarah sat up in bed and smiled at the fully laden toast rack, butter dish and a choice of Marmite or strawberry jam. She rested her head on Al’s shoulder and gave a happy sigh.

“You looked so peaceful, and it’s nice to have breakfast in bed on the weekend, especially now we have the TV.  It doesn’t always have to be news though does it, Sarah?”

“No.  Once Andy had gone to work, I used to flip over to something more diverting.  He didn’t really like the news but he found it more palatable than the usual daytime stuff.  I dread to think what he would have made of Oliver’s show!  Strawberry jam this morning, I think. There was rather a lot of savoury stuff at Millie’s last night. I’m so glad it went well though.  Thank you for helping Tom out with some money.”

“I suppose that’s another guilty secret that I have to own up to.  I’d often give him the odd tenner while he was still living with Millie.  Not that she kept him short of money; he just seemed to get through it rather quickly.  I send money to my two as well.  Do you want to meet them?”

“This scar isn’t going to heal up overnight, is it? I would love to meet your boys Al, and I don’t want the war wound to get in the way.”

“You do seem to have an affinity with children…”

“…don’t say it Al.  I have reconciled myself to not having children of my own. Just because I get on with other people’s children, doesn’t mean that I would be much use as a mother myself.  Maybe if life hadn’t gone into suspension with Andy for so long, I might have had a family with someone else, but I didn’t, and there’s no point agonising about it. I am very happy now, and you make splendid toast, and even better coffee. I’d love a bath after breakfast; will you wash my hair again for me?”

“Of course. I told Maggie we’d be over about midday, Sunday lunch will be served at two o’clock, and if I haven’t finished putting up the cameras by then, I’ll finish it off after lunch.”

“If you can still move.”

“I’ve had many of Maggie’s Sunday roasts; I’ve learned to pace myself.”

“I’d like to send Simon an email before we go, that way he’ll get it first thing tomorrow, and once I get his answer, I can send the card off to Shane.”

“Plenty of time. I need to unpack your unworldly goods from my gym, and put them back anyway. I’ll start running your bath and take this stuff downstairs if you’ve finished?”

“Did you ever wash Sonia’s hair?”

“No.”

Al sat back down on the bed.

“I wasn’t even allowed in the bathroom when she was in there.  Once the boys came along, our lives consisted of me being at work, and us arguing when I was home.  I don’t blame the boys for getting angry about it.  I really wasn’t a good husband or father, Sarah.  I tried to make up for it with Sam and Matt once I’d moved out but other things seemed to be more important to me, and to them.  My childcare skills have become more developed since I’ve been helping Maggie.  Apparently, I am a good hair washer, and I know how to do ponytails and plaits.  My namesake is far less demanding in terms of personal care.”

Sarah crawled across the bed and threw her arms around Al’s neck.

“We moved on from our mistakes; I was never as comfortable with Andy as I am with you.  Who knew that I could become so liberated in my late-forties? Perhaps we should install a bigger bath? Then you could get in with me?”

“We can shower together once your cut has healed up.  We have a wet room with a shower downstairs, and there’s plenty of room for two.”

“I haven’t even looked in there yet.  I’ll explore further after I’ve written to Simon.”

“I’ll get on and run you a bath, and I’ll try not to get too distracted while I wash your hair.”

“Can I have a plait?  Millie and I used to plait each other’s hair when we were at Uni. I’m not sure that it would suit me now.”

“It would.  Not pigtails though.”

“Never.  Especially now we’ve found out what happened to poor Amy Loomis and her pigtails.”

That was a sobering thought, and Sarah carried it with her when she went into the bathroom.  Sitting in a bath full of beautifully scented bubbles, keeping the water away from her dressing, and waiting for Al to return, Sarah found it hard not to count her blessings.  The only thing she wished was that Andy hadn’t died; that he’d gone on to have a happy life climbing mountains with his friend Shane.  It was the image of Andy sitting outside in the sunshine with a glass of healthy fruit juice that brought the lump back to her throat, and the tears to her closed eyes. She didn’t hear Al come in; he had that policeman’s knack of moving very quietly when he needed to. Kneeling down beside her, he took her face in his hands, and kissed the tears away.

“We can’t change what has happened to Andy; he found what he was looking for in the end.  Think about the future and working with Simon on arranging Andy’s funeral.  One good thing, if it takes place in Thailand, Abigail definitely won’t be there.  Would you want to go?”

She shook her head.

“No.  I never shared Andy’s interests, so it would seem hypocritical to go to his funeral in a foreign land.  I’m happy to use some of his inheritance to finance it though. I wish I was a fly on the wall in Abigail’s house.  She will be in fits.”

Al washed and conditioned Sarah’s hair; happy that her sadness seemed to have ebbed away with the bathwater.  He wrapped her up in the bath sheet and followed her back into the bedroom where he produced a handful of hair scrunchies from one of his pockets

“The girls have left me a range of colours so you can coordinate your plait with today’s outfit. No need to wear a dress though, you might end up a bit dusty when we start unloading the stuff from the storage unit.”

Suitably plaited, and clad in a pair of jeans and a favourite tee-shirt, Sarah went downstairs and set up her laptop and the printer.  She took a quick peek in the downstairs bathroom on the way, and was very impressed.  The thought of sharing a shower with Al made her smile, and as she set about writing to Simon, she had his letter and Shane’s postcard propped up in front of her.

Dear Simon

I received your letter and a card from Andy’s friend Shane in the same post. I cried.  Not for me, but for Andy, having had such a short time of happiness after our lifetime of being very ordinary.  From what Shane says, Andy died doing something he loved, in a place where he wanted to spend the rest of his life.  What happens about the funeral?  If it was up to me, I would want it to take place in Thailand.  I know that Abigail will be set against this. She will want a huge funeral with a wake, so that she can weep and wail, and garner sympathy from everyone.  Does Andy’s will stipulate anything about this?  If Abigail kicks off, I am happy to pay for the funeral out of Andy’s bequest to me.  I never expected him to leave me anything anyway.

My life has changed dramatically since I moved out of Andy’s house.  Millie took me under her wing in many ways; she helped me to get my confidence back, installed me in her spare room, and I am enjoying my job working with her as an aftercare social worker on the Oliver Standish show. I have found myself in the middle of a fascinating but sometimes very difficult world, but I also met Al, a man who couldn’t be more different than Andy, a man who loves me for myself, and has asked me to marry him.  I said yes!

Apart from more information about Andy’s will, I need to pick your brains about a couple of other things please? Al’s sister Maggie has four children, and an ex-husband who keeps turning up on the doorstep and demanding access.  She’s never been able to afford anything legal, and on the last occasion he was drunk and slapped her when she refused to let him take the children out in his car.  Is this something you could help with, or do you know someone who can?  Al and I are happy to pay for any work; we both want Maggie and the children to be safe.

My friend Millie asks to be remembered to you, and I am enclosing her contact details. This is another situation where you or one of your colleagues might be able to help?  Millie has an eighteen-year-old son Tom, from a relationship she had in India. She went back six weeks ago to look for Tom’s father but unfortunately, he had died.  She returned with Jiara, Tom’s half-sister, who will be twenty-one in a few weeks.  Her married sisters want her to return to Delhi so that they can marry her off and get hold of her dowry.  Tom and Jiara were both left a respectable amount of money in their father’s will, but Jiara’s is dependent upon her being single and needing financial support.  She wants to stay in England with Millie, and get to know her new brother (she’s already thrashing him on the X-Box).  Could you put Millie in touch with someone who can help with Jiara and her legal status please?

Millie and I may soon become unemployed as there’s a possibility of Oliver’s show being cancelled.  One of the guests on the show committed suicide, and there may be reasonable cause to link his death with the way he was treated.  Millie was away taking Tom to an interview in Cambridge, and I was still living with Andy at the time. My last piece of news is also linked to the show and you may have seen something about it in the paper.  I was attacked with a knife by a guest who didn’t feel she had been given a fair hearing. I managed to get out of a bad situation with Al’s help, but I do have a rather impressive cut on my cheek.  Thank heavens for the self-defence course I took some years ago!

Thank you for your kindness and support at a very difficult time.  I’ve attached my new address and contact details as well as Millie’s.  Please don’t let Abigail know!

Once I hear back from you, I will be contacting Shane to thank him.

Kind regards

Sarah aka Scar-face

After reading through the letter several times, Sarah asked Al to look at it too. He crouched down beside her chair and took both her hands in his.

“It’s a very ‘Sarah’ letter; kind and loving about everyone in your new life, and confirmation that what happened between you and Andy is in the past.  I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone, but you’re right.  I love you for yourself and I don’t want you to change – ever.”

“I should email it then?”

“Yes.  Do it now and hopefully he’ll see it in the morning when he gets in to work. I’ve got the car loaded up and it’s almost twelve.  Before we go, there’s something we forgot about.”

He handed Sarah the little package that Jiara had given them.  It was beautifully wrapped and Sarah did her best to open it carefully, and reserve the paper.  Inside the wrapping was a little box covered in mirrors and coloured mosaics.  That would have been a wonderful present on its own, but the box contained a red, gold and white enamelled fish on a delicate silver chain. Al took it out and put it round Sarah’s neck.

Sarah finally took a look in the mirror, and brought up her left hand to her neck.

“It has the same colours as my engagement ring Al.  They look as if they belong together.”

“Bit like you and me then?”