Pastures New. Julia Williams

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      Ben was walking Meg through the graveyard, as he normally did, when he stopped short. Sitting with her back to him, on the bench, below the tall yew tree that dwarfed the graveyard, was Amy. Ben paused. She might not want to see him. He should turn round and go before she noticed he was there. Then she turned to look at him, and the look pierced him so completely that it no longer mattered whether she wanted to see him. He wanted to make things right between them more badly than he had wanted anything in a long time.

      ‘Sorry, I’m disturbing you,’ he said.

      ‘It’s okay,’ Amy replied. ‘I was just thinking I owed you an apology.’

      ‘What for?’

      ‘The other day,’ said Amy. ‘I’m really sorry I overreacted.’

      ‘I suppose you did a little,’ said Ben.

      ‘A little is very kind,’ said Amy. ‘But I think I owe you an explanation.’

      ‘Explain away,’ said Ben, hovering awkwardly, before Amy motioned for him to sit down.

      ‘I never told you how Jamie died, did I?’ Amy said.

      ‘No, you didn’t.’

      ‘Jamie was always keen on bikes, you see,’ said Amy, dreamily remembering her first meeting with him, when he’d roared up to the pub she was sitting outside, astride a Suzuki, a vision of unrepentant bad-boy glory. She was pretty much smitten from that moment, and when the bad-boy bit turned out to be an act, it made her like him all the more. ‘He’d always ridden them. The bigger the better. I used to get a buzz out of it when I was younger, but I don’t know, as time went on I got more nervous about the bike, and kept hoping he would grow out of it – especially when Josh came along.’

      ‘But he didn’t?’ prompted Ben.

      ‘No, he didn’t,’ said Amy. ‘More’s the pity. If he had, he’d still be here …’ She trailed off. Was it ever going to be easy to tell this story?

      ‘… Anyway, to cut to the chase. He came off it one day. They said he died instantly, which was something of a comfort. I haven’t gone near a motorbike since. And I certainly won’t let Josh near one.’

      ‘So when I let him climb on my bike …’ began Ben.

      ‘… I went off at the deep end,’ finished Amy. ‘Oh God, I feel such a fool. You weren’t to know.’

      ‘Don’t even think about it for a second,’ said Ben. ‘I was cross because I thought you didn’t trust me with Josh.’

      ‘Oh God, no,’ said Amy. ‘Of course I do. Despite being the most neurotic mother in the universe, I do recognise it’s good for him to have male role models.’

      ‘I think you’re more entitled than most to be a neurotic mum,’ said Ben. ‘And you’re not that bad. You should see some of my patients. I’ve got one woman who comes in every week with her baby. So far it’s had asthma, peanut allergies and a haematoma. I keep telling her the baby is fine. And still she comes.’

      ‘That makes me feels so much better,’ laughed Amy. ‘I didn’t want you thinking I was the madwoman on the allotments.’

      ‘Far from it,’ Ben assured her. ‘You’ve had a rough time. I don’t want to intrude, but have you ever had counselling or anything? It can help sometimes.’

      Amy pulled a face.

      ‘I did go and see someone for a while, but, well, I don’t know … It helped to talk about Jamie. And you get to the point when you think you’re boring people, so it was nice to offload on a total stranger. But then it seemed a bit pointless, after a while. No amount of talking will ever bring him back.’

      She looked so sad as she said this that Ben had to resist an overwhelming urge to take her in his arms. But he knew that resist he must. It was clear Amy was a long way from getting over Jamie.

      ‘Sorry,’ Amy said. ‘I shouldn’t go on about it so much. Really, it’s fine. And things are much better since I’ve been here.’

      ‘I don’t think you should be sorry about anything,’ said Ben. ‘Grieving isn’t a finite process. And however hard you bury it, it has a habit of resurfacing. I should know.’

      He paused, as if he were about to say something else, and Amy looked at him expectantly.

      ‘Oh?’ she said.

      ‘Oh, I’ve seen it happen to many of my patients,’ said Ben. He had been on the verge of confiding in her about Sarah, but thought better of it. Amy had enough troubles of her own. She didn’t need to be burdened with his problems. ‘All the clichés are true, you know: time is a great healer, things do get better. But any time you want to talk, you know where I am.’

      ‘That’s really kind of you,’ said Amy. ‘You don’t know how much better that makes me feel.’

      ‘My pleasure,’ said Ben, smiling. ‘I’d best be off now. I’ve got surgery in a minute.’

      ‘Go on,’ said Amy. ‘We don’t want to keep the good folk of Nevermorewell waiting.’

      Ben laughed and, whistling to Meg, who had wandered off and was rooting about in the bushes, he left Amy sitting there. He cast a look back as he made his way out of the graveyard. She seemed so lonely and fragile. He just wished there was a way of making her happy once and for all.