My father had habitually given far more advice than my mother: given much more of a steer. He believed, for instance, that resilience had to be cultivated, and would tell me so. When he'd died, one of the things that had shaken me most was the realization that he was no longer saying things like that, no longer telling me to step up to the plate, be brave — courage was a word he used a lot — that he was no longer attentive. Mum was there, of course, but she was more laissez-faire, relaxed. My life was going by now, unobserved. These days any form of vigilance goes by the unfashionable, derogatory word of judgment, usually by those who want to avoid its eye. But at its best, it's about love and care. And the very best sort is so ingrained, it becomes invisible. In my heart I knew that had Dad lived, I wouldn't have wasted so many years of my life. That he wouldn't have let me get away with it. Not in any stern, draconian way; he might not even have said anything, but knowing his eye was upon me, I couldn't have let it happen. Couldn't have taken the path of least resistance.

I knew, too, that if I'd taken that difficult route, forced myself to have more of a life, found someone else, married even, when I was still young, had more children instead of indulging my emotions, wallowing in my misery, sooner or later, everything would have been fine. He'd taught me that, as well. Taught me that if you go through the motions, force yourself, eventually the motions become real life. Without him standing by, I hadn't done it. I'd cheated.

I took the deepest of breaths. There were gulls circling overhead, but they weren't calling to each other as usual and the sea was millpond still. All was strangely silent. The quiet little churchyard sounded very loud to my ears, though. I'd lost my father long ago. What I shouldn't have lost was the courage to believe that one day someone else might love me in a similarly concerned and careful manner.

I kissed the tips of my fingers and touched the top of his headstone, my eyes full. Then I turned and made my way back through the churchyard to the cliff path, and embarked on the long walk home.

Chapter 19