Barton Green.

chapter 9

I sat on the floor looking at the ring in my hand wondering what happened.

Did they marry?

Were they not allowed?

What happened to Jonathan?

Was he still alive?

All these questions and no one to get answers from.

Joe!

He said I could ask him anything!

This was definitely something I wanted answers to.

I looked at my watch twenty to eleven. Far to late to be calling anyone it would have to wait till morning. I put all the things back in there box and slid it back under the bed.

Getting myself ready I fell into the bed and pulled the duvet up round my chin.

That night I dreamed of the man leaving the pub. He kept stopping and turning round and I kept waking up just before I seen his face.

The sun shone through the window early in the morning and I woke feeling as if I hadn't been asleep at all. I looked at the clock 5:32am.

I groaned as a fell back unto the pillow.

The next thing I knew there was a knock at the front door. 8:49am.

'I'm coming' I yelled hoping whoever it was would hear and wait.

I pulled my dressing gown on as I ran from the bedroom. As I neared the front door I seen a tall figure through the glass.

'Morning' old Joe said as I opened the door. 'Think me and thee need to talk'

I pulled the door open further and let him pasted me. Offering him a seat I excused myself to pull on some clothes.

I came back to find Joe looking out the window into the garden. He seemed to be smile at something only he could see. We both jumped a little at the shrill of the kettle boiling.

"I put kettle on." He said. "Thought we could do with a cuppa."

"I'll make a pot. I've always like my tea better from a pot." I babbled. "Aunt Kate said it gave better flavour."

"She always liked her tea from the pot. I remember that."

I turned sharply and stared at him. "I forgot there for a moment that you knew her. It feels so good to hear someone else speak of her." The tears fell silently from my eyes. "I miss her so much"

He stepped across the room and held me in his arms.

"Its good to cry sometimes. Maybe if more people let out their emotions we would have a different ending to Kates story today."

I looked up into his face trying to work out what he meant.

"I'm sorry for crying on you"

"Not at all. Now re-boil that kettle and we'll talk of happier times and the reason I'm here."