Not even the large candles on the altar sent out enough light to be reflected in his eyes.

I wondered why death had decided it wasn’t my turn to die. I had lost the will to live when I drove away. I had never felt this before. Living has something to do with hope. 305

John and I stepped into the aisle at the same time because a woman next to me had been struggling to get into a tricky coat.

I must talk to you he said. It’s important. He took hold of my hand in a grip that couldn’t be waved away.

Come home with me he said when we were outside the church and he had lit the flame on his torch for the christmas night procession.

I don’t want to I said. He pretended not to have heard or maybe he hadn’t heard.

Let’s go he said. Put your hand on my arm. If you don’t want to come home with me we can at least talk as far as the crossroads.

Did the exhibition work out well I asked.

Yes it did he said. I sold almost everything but then I regretted it and decided to keep most of them.

Which ones I asked.

All the paintings about us he said. You ought to have sold them I said. Just memories.

No he said. They are not only about memories.

It started to snow. Large silent flakes fell densely. We were like a couple in a glass dome that someone had given a shake to make the snow whirl about.

Tell me about maria I said. How she died. I won’t go on seeing you unless you tell me.

Vapour clouds swirled around our mouths. He pulled my arm closer still. This blizzard was different from the one when we met last time. We were coming close to a crossroads where honesty would decide what directions we would take.

I helped her to die he said. She asked to die in the clearing near the birch and it happened as she wanted it.

Why did she want to die there I asked. 306

I don’t know he said. But she was ill with cancer. It had grown inoperable. They gave her chemotherapy but when the cancer spread all the same she made up her mind to die. She didn’t want anyone to know that she was ill.

His eyes were fixed on the ground as he spoke. As if he needed to see his feet move in order to find the words.

Maria was vain. She was aware that half the village would have given up an arm or a leg to be with her. It would not be her style to walk about transformed into an emaciated cancer patient. She wanted to die while her illness could remain hidden.

He looked up and smiled his harelipped smile.

And then I asked. What happened.