A Song for Joey (34 page)

The guests began to file away, most pausing to speak to me as they passed. We stayed
until the last had left. Wistfully, I watched them dwindle along the path back to the church
and the car park, small groups, chattering together, arms gesticulating.

The sky had cleared, the dark clouds had vanished, and a warm May sun beamed down.
"Ready to go home, my love?" I heard Oliver ask.
"Can I have a few minutes alone with Joey first?"
"Of course. I'll get onto the contractors to come and remove the decking." He put his

Was I? It had been a long day, and I was exhausted, yet it wasn't tiredness that filled my
senses, but relief. After all the years since his death, I had carried the weight of my
promise to Joey. At last, I had kept my word. Yes, I was ok. I felt good.

"Yes, I am, thanks my darling. It has been a wonderful day." I smiled up at his worried
face and stretched up to kiss him. "I'll catch you up."
They picked their way to the path, where they turned to wave before walking slowly
away. I sat on the edge of the boards, swinging my legs, my feet brushing the flower
tributes below, and studied the rectangle of polished marble that symbolised what this day
had been about. How incongruous that we use cold stone to represent the warmth of love.
I stared into the patterns set by the forces of nature into the rock from which this piece
came - greys and greens, a hint of pink, a streak of purple, whirls of gold.
As I gazed, the hard outline shimmered.
It may have been the tears in my eyes, of course - and the whispering in my ears could
have been the wind as it ruffled the grass - but the warmth that washed over me was not
caused by the sun.
"
Thanks, Bell,
" I heard in my head.
"
It was a pleasure, Joey
." I replied, smiling, wiping a lingering tear from my cheek.
"
Goodbye - I love you
."
A peaceful feeling wrapped itself around me, a kiss from an angel, then he was gone.

Russia is ablaze with revolution, the royal family is under sentence of death, and the
young Lady In Waiting is caught up in violent social upheaval and personal danger. Her
only hope is her guardian angel, who reveals a secret to Natalie, but cannot intervene.

Referring to her diary, Natalie recalls the terrifying events that occupied her daily life,
and chronicles the decline of the royal family as the Bolshevik tide sweeps all before it,
until she is forced to choose one side or the other. As she describes the collapse of the
aristocracy, and her secret weighs ever heavier upon her shoulders, so Natalie also