We remember it differently john said. You began to cry. I couldn’t think what to do at first but I gave you a candle. Here I said. Light a candle for your horse.

You took it and walked up to the candleholder next to the altarpiece. But when you looked for matches to light the candle there weren’t any. I helped you out with my zippo. I had to try a couple of times before it lit. Then we placed the candle in the holder. You prayed for your horse. Its name was fingal.

No limerick I said. His name was limerick. 172

Ok. So it was limerick john said. I put my arm round your shoulders to comfort you. Then I hugged you close to me with both my arms.

If one bright day is your lot be glad at what you’ve got the glimpse of light you forgot.

The curious smell from eskilbrännström’s kitchen came back.

I could see it in the picture now. The fuel fumes from the zippo lighter blended with the smell of his skin and the byre odours that had oozed into the overalls and jackets hanging on hooks in the coldporch.

We stood together at the altar. His hands were on my back. His hands were on my hair. My hands warmed themselves against his chest. How they suddenly slipped inside his shirt. Palms against chest hair. Palms for the first time feeling a man’s skin that was not father’s.

Then you ran I said. You let go of me and hurried down the aisle and out through the church door and when I came outside the yard in front of the chapel was empty.

While the ship still sails before the heartbeat fails while the sunlight still glitters on waves in the wake.

No he said. I didn’t run away. I wish I had. But I didn’t run. I stayed holding you tighter still. Pleasured by the girl’s hands as they explored my body. Inhaled your innocent soapy smell.

In the end you were the one who ran.

Who gave just you sight and hearing made just you hear waves breaking and singing their song

I put the picture back in its brown covers. Switched the record player off.

John was lying back on the sofa. His eyes were closed. I pulled a lock of hair back from his forehead. You’re not to blame for 173what happened it was my fault just as much I said. I must have been longing for someone and you happened to be there.