Second Chance by Sian James

refer to it again, but she was very tender towards me for the rest of the run.
    I never told Paul about it; it was my decision and I didn’t want him to feel guilty about it. All the same, it came between us.
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    I suddenly realise that I’ve never loved anyone unreservedly. I’ve never been able to love anyone body and soul. The words sent shivers through me. Body and soul. With my body I thee worship. And soul. Which was surely something more than mind, something deeper, almost spiritual. I’d been pleased to think that my love for Paul had been mature and comforting; cerebral, in fact. Oh, but that wasn’t enough. Body and soul, I repeated mournfully. Why had I always been satisfied with one or the other?
    There’s nothing like death to bring you face to face with life. My life wasn’t fulfilled.
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    Grace phoned at nine o’clock. ‘I’m putting the children in the car and coming over to fetch you,’ she said. ‘There’s no point in you being over there on your own with nothing to do but be miserable.’
    â€˜That’s kind of you, Grace. But I think I need to be here at the moment. You know how people like to drop in. I don’t want to be discourteous to anyone.’
    â€˜Iestyn got Rhydian’s letter this morning and he’s just been on the phone. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to get a day off for the funeral, but he said to give you his love. I bet it’s that stuck-up wife of his who’s against it. That Madeleine. She’s probably got some cocktail party to go to on Friday. Well, we’ll be over again tonight. Yes, of course we will. What’s family for? My mother will be here to baby-sit and I’m bringing over a steak and kidney pie so don’t you bother to cook.’
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    â€˜What about this George Williams?’ I asked Lorna Davies when she called with the post – a catalogue from J.D. Williams and a phone bill.
    â€˜Did your mother tell you about George?’
    â€˜No, but your mother-in-law mentioned him.’
    â€˜Well, there you are, my mother-in-law enjoys spreading a bit of gossip. But I suppose he was courting your mother in his own way. You know, cutting her hedge at the back, bringing her beans and cabbage from his place, doing her shopping sometimes. I used to tease her about him, ask her when they were going to get married and so on, but she was never willing to talk about him. He’s a nice enough man, mind, very respectable, used to work in Caffrey’s the ironmonger in town. He’ll be at the funeral on Friday for sure. I’ll tell him to come over and have a word with you.’
    â€˜Arthur managed to escape last night and I haven’t seen him this morning though I’ve called and called.’
    â€˜He’ll be back when he’s hungry. He knows now that there’s someone here.’
    â€˜Won’t you come in and have a cup of tea?’
    â€˜If you’re sure you’ve got the time.’
    â€˜Of course I have. I’ve been waiting for you. The kettle’s boiling.’
    â€˜You seem better than yesterday, anyway. You’re beginning to come to terms with it, I think.’
    â€˜People are being very kind.’
    â€˜You saw the new minister, I hear. What did you think of him? Some people think he’s a bit strange and abrupt.’
    â€˜I liked him. He hasn’t got the outward show, but I think he’s all the better for that. He put me very firmly in my place.’
    â€˜I like him, too, but it’s a pity he doesn’t look a bit more respectable.’
    â€˜He can’t help his red hair.’
    â€˜No. Well, I’ll tell people you liked him.’
    â€˜Is that important?’
    â€˜Oh yes. You’re very important round here. On the television and so on... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’
    â€˜I know you didn’t. It’s just that I’m feeling very