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Chapter 6


Langdon 2003


"It was a long time before the world came into focus again. I sat in a kind of fog that, looking back, I can see lasted for years. At first it was black, just like night, then very slowly, starting with your birth Will, there was a tiny speck of light, and I started seeing faces again, and recognising names and places. And hearing what people were saying. You and Liam got me through that, I don't know what I'd have done without you two."

She did, though. She'd always known exactly what she'd have done if she hadn't been pregnant.

And William seemed to know it too. He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him.

"Yes, I did resent being pregnant, I did resent that you stopped me from following him, but when I first saw you William, well, you're a father, you know, don't you?"

"You wouldn't have done it, would you?"

"If I hadn't been pregnant? Yes, I would have."

"Mum…"

"No, Will. There's not a lot left to say. Apart from this, I've always made sure I said it all, that's one thing the war taught us. I've always told you how much I loved you. I got that right, didn't I?"

"Mum, it's alright, really it is, you couldn't have loved me more. You must have known how much of a shock this would all be, though. Think I've coped quite well, considering."

"You have, Will, but that's just you, isn't it. . ."

He was right, she couldn't have loved him more. He wasn't just her son, he was her link to Spike, a constant reminder of what Spike looked like, a small glimpse of how Spike would have changed if he'd had the chance to age alongside her. William was both her anchor to this world, and her window to the other one.

"It was over there." She pointed to the far edge of the field. "There was a damaged plane trying to land, clipped Spike's wing as he was coming in. They both went down. I was on my way home from the hospital, might have even heard it. I used to spend hours just lying still and trying to remember every detail of that journey home. You just got used to it after a while, all the noise, the explosions. I might have heard it, I'll never know. Xander never forgave himself."

"Finish the story mum."

"I will, son. I need to say something about Liam, because he was a hero in his own way too. There were lots of quiet heroes in that war, working away in the background, largely unsung. And I wasn't the only one to lose someone. Everyone you met had a story to tell, a son, a father, someone who'd died. Courage isn't just about facing the enemy head on without flinching. It doesn't have to be noisy and obvious. All those mothers and wives who gave their loved ones without question, then had to go on without them were every bit as brave as those who did the fighting.

Liam did join up eventually. I think he felt guilty, maybe he thought it would make me love him, I don't know, but he survived it. We lived with his parents at the mansion in Devon. I'd never realised quite how rich they were until I saw that place."

She stopped talking for a moment, her thoughts drifting back. The future called to her, but the past still had such an irresistible pull. Sometimes she didn't even have to think about it, it was just there, surrounding her. The sights, the sounds, sometimes they were so real that she thought she was losing her mind. Liam had got her to the best doctors, but the most they could offer was that she was suffering panic attacks. Maybe they were right. But the past had never left her alone, so much so that she'd never really lived in the present.

"Do you remember the small graveyard they had there? You found your name on one of the graves and you kept telling me it was you. You couldn't understand it was a different William who'd lived a long time ago."

"I know mum. There was just something about that particular grave. Don't know what it was. Maybe it was just the name. Have you decided what you want to do with the place?"

"Since the fire, no. I'll leave that up to you. But Liam did love us both, and we should thank him for that."


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What can I say about you Liam? I never loved you properly, you know that. But I did love you in a way. You deserved a medal for the way you stood by and took everything I threw at you. And all your life you had to stand and be compared to Spike, and know that you'd always be found wanting. People talked, didn't they? About the indecent haste with which I married you after Spike died. They said I married you for your money, and they weren't far wrong. Does that make me very wicked?

You know, I can't even remember our wedding day. All I have of it are pictures of blurred shapes in my mind, moving around me, coming in and out of focus. Scattered conversations, the clink of glasses, the flash of the photographer's camera.

I thought it was all a dream, and that I was going to wake up, my heart racing and find Spike asleep beside me. And I used to dream that Spike had died and that I'd married you, and no matter how much I tried, I couldn't wake up from it. And for a long while I didn't know which one was dream and which was reality.

I need to forgive you, Liam. Forgive you for catching me when I was at my most vulnerable. Forgive you for the way you wouldn't give up, even though you knew I didn't really want to marry you, and forgive you for not being Spike.

And you need to forgive me for never really appreciating what you did for me. I think you already did that, though. You were always more generous than I was.


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"Mother, mum?"

"William?"

"Hey, I think you fell asleep for a moment, it's nearly three o' clock."

"Three o' clock?"

"You wanted to be here for three o'clock, remember?"

William watched his mother blink several times. She really did look tired now, and her voice was fading, almost as if it was too much of an effort to speak. He glanced at his watch again, anxiously wishing three o'clock would come, so he could get her home. She took a deep breath, as if she was gathering up all her reserves and then she hugged him surprisingly tightly for one so small. It made him smile and warmed his heart. She'd always been so strong, a fighter. After Liam's parents had died, she'd taken on the family business at a time when women weren't supposed to do those sorts of thing, and she'd built herself a reputation that was second to none.

"Oh yes, I remember now." She stayed where she was, leaning against him, a reassuring warmth as she'd always been to him.

"I remember it all, Will, and there's only one small part of this story left to tell, then I'm going to say my goodbyes. Is that okay?"

"It's fine, mum, you don't have to ask."

"I know son, I just can't help it. You'll always be that little boy with his socks around his ankles and the skinned knees, running to me for a hug and a kiss. It's a mommy thing. Doesn't matter how old you are, I always worry about you."

"I know that too."


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Fast forward the years. Rewind them. If we could watch a film of our lives, which bits would we skip? And which bits would we watch so much, we'd wear out the tape? Rewind the happy bits, fast forward the tears, pause here and there, remember, forget.

Laugh at the clothes we wore, cry for the people no longer here. Be envious of all that youth and energy, long gone. Marvel at how we made it through. Wonder why we need so much today to make us happy. We were happy then, and we had nothing but each other.

Babies crying, children laughing, awkward youth, wedding bells, proud parents.

Peace, a different world, men on the moon. War, always more war. Did we learn nothing?

Too young to be a grandparent. First grey hair, wrinkles.

Looking in the mirror and seeing your mother.

And here we are, at last. How many years has it been, Spike? Too many. You always said I kept you waiting, and I did didn't I?

But you'll forgive me, won't you?


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As she fell silent against him, William contemplated this amazing woman, who he was more than proud to call mum. So many hopes and dreams. So much love. It had sustained her for a lifetime. That wonderful thing she'd had with Spike.

"You should have told me mum." He whispered it quietly, not really wanting her to hear. He thought he understood now, why she hadn't wanted to share it. It was just too precious a memory to give any of it away, even to him.

"But I wish you had mum. I would have kept it safe for you." He stroked her hair as she slept, realising for the first time how small and fragile she'd become. He knew she was old, but she was his mum. Just as she still saw him as a little boy, when he looked at her, he saw the smiling yellow-haired beauty that he remembered from his childhood. Remembered how happy he'd always felt that she was his mum and no one else's. And now, suddenly, she was little and hardly there, as if giving away her memories had somehow robbed her of the energy that had kept her going all this time.

Giving away? Don't you mean sharing? he corrected himself.

He shifted positions to look at her and that was when he started to realise that she wasn't asleep, and that she had been giving away her memories after all.

She'd passed them on to him because she didn't need them any more.

He kissed the top of his mother's head, feeling his hands start to shake as the realisation sunk in. "So like you, mum. So fiercely protective of the things you love. And thanks, I'm honoured that you gave them to me. I will keep them alive for you, but I'm not going to keep them to myself. Oh no. I'm going to tell them. Joyce and Hank, they deserve to know about their granddad. Don't you think? And the great-grandchildren, are they going to understand all this? It all happened so long ago."

He closed his eyes and let the tears come.

Another time, another world. A single event that changed so many lives. If only we could turn back time. If Spike had known he was going to die that day, would he still have gone. If he'd had the choice? Would he have still got on that plane and flown out in defence of his country?

"Yes I would, son. We all just did what we had to do. Every one of us."

"Dad?"

"Yeah, it's me son. Let me take her."

William kept his eyes closed but he could still see him.

The bleached hair, the blue eyes, the uniform. Just as he was in the photograph.

"Shouldn't I do something, call an ambulance? Maybe she's still..."

"No son. Let her go. It's time." Spike gave a small laugh. "She's kept me waiting long enough. Always liked to keep me waiting. Let me take her."

William hesitated for a moment, his eyes still closed, wondering if he was maybe dreaming this, then he felt for his mother's hand and gently placed it into Spike's outstretched one. She still leaned against him, but it didn't feel like her anymore and he knew then that he wasn't dreaming, and that she'd really gone. Not to a better place. Just a different one.

"Don't worry son. She knew it was her time."

Spike turned to go, raising his hand to his head in a final salute. "Get to take this bloody uniform off at last. Come on love, I've missed you."

William couldn't see who Spike was talking to as his image started to shimmer and fade. He wrapped his arms around his mother, holding her close, and said his private goodbyes to them both.

"Glad I got to meet you at last, dad," he whispered to the retreating figure. "And look after her. She's fussy you know. Like's everything just so."

"Didn't you mum?" He buried his face in the hair that had been as blonde as corn-silk and let it mop up his tears. As she'd always done. And when he looked up again he could have sworn he saw two figures walking into the horizon. A small blonde and a taller one. Two special people who deserved to be together at last.

Wiping at his eyes, he peered into the distance, but there was nothing there. Just an old sheet of newspaper flapping and blowing across the runway that had seen so much drama, so much laughter and so many tears. All so long ago.

He sat for a long while crying and holding her, then he got out his phone and called for the ambulance that she didn't need any more, because he didn't know what else to do.

What do you do at times like these?

You go home and you re-live happy memories. You look at the photos and give thanks. Thanks for all the good times, and maybe for the not so good times too. They all count really. All teach us things that we need to know, and help us on our way. And whether you share them or not, the important thing is that you have them, and that you honour them for what they are. Little footprints in time, all of us together building a pathway to eternity.

Keep your memories in a book or in a box under the bed. Keep them in your head and keep them in your heart. Keep them in all the places you've ever been and in all the people you've ever known.

Don't let them be dimmed by the passing of time

Just keep them.

The End.





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