They now turned the other way, Alex pausing briefly to collect some white, double jonquils from the trunk of his car, and they came to the church. He swung the gate open for her. She played tourist; he showed her the thirteenth-century features of the building, the oldest stained glass, the fine wooden roof. They emerged from the unlit space into the garden, where some sunlight now softly illuminated the sparse snowfall; and in silence they walked to the newest part of the graveyard. Lucy knew what would follow, but she doubted whether she could be of any help. Alex was upright and pensive, though, and didn’t ask for words or consolations. He crouched over the pair of graves, one much too fresh to venture to discuss the pain and the other hardly less so. He soundlessly placed the flowers, and whatever words he offered were unspoken. Soon he stood again, hooked her arm, and they left. All possible words had frozen on Lucy’s lips: she literally couldn’t speak. Perhaps she’d let him down or missed a moment, but she was reassured by the calm strength in his body as their feet marked the path back and crossed the road to the pub.

RETURNING FROM A DREAM, THEY ORDERED LUNCH—AND THEIR MOOD changed. Everyone who came to drink or eat said something to Alex, and over their unhurried courses he asked questions of those occupying and vacating the bar stools and tables—about holidays, relatives, building work. He knew their stories. It was a community he was a part of, and she liked it. It rescued her from a lack of faith in others, a belief that everyone was caught up in their isolated pockets of interest, and she was chirping and light-humored.

“So man can still be a social animal?”

“Oh, I hope so. I’d want to give up if I thought we couldn’t appreciate others’ diversity.” He looked at her more seriously than his tone might have suggested. “Now, if you have the strength for it,” he asked when the decaffeinated coffee and shared pudding was cleared, “I’d like to show you my home. Just for you to see it, really.”

He was surprisingly tentative. Was he concerned the suggestion might be unwelcome? She couldn’t tell. Did he want time alone with her there? Or was he worried about what would be expected if he created that space? Lucy sensed a pivotal moment in their relationship and was racked with uncertainty.