When All Is Said

by Anne Griffin

I sat there on the floor, old negatives and pictures around me, staring at my favourite one: the one where we were sat in front of the butter churn outside the upper-room window of the old house. A creamy haze of a photo, curled in so much by then that I had to hold the edges back to see him properly. His left hand was raised to block out the sun. I concentrated on his face, trying to embed it in my brain. But the more I tried the more I failed. I had myself in such a state that Sadie had Lemsips, paracetamol and Vicks VapoRub all lined up. In the end I gave in, took the lot and went to sleep. I dreamed of the picture that night – Tony sitting on our old kitchen chair and me standing to his rear. My lower half hidden by the churn, my chest puffed out, smirking proudly. My hand lay protectively on Tony’s shoulder, holding on for dear life, refusing to let him rise, although he tried. In the end I remember his words like he was actually beside me. ‘Alright, Big Man, let me be. I’m not going anywhere.’

Love this. And next paragraph too. Which reveals both depth of love for Tony—and shallowness/lack of intimacy/honesty with Sadie?