Ruby took a deep breath and explained about Sarah’s death and what she had discovered. She didn’t name Ernie, who had been such a comfort to her. ‘I just wanted to know where she was resting,’ she said. ‘I had no wish to bother Miss Allinson’s family.’
Mrs Grant took Ruby’s elbow and led her to where George was watching the stonemason at work. ‘My sister was a keen gardener. She took much comfort from sitting in her rose garden during her final illness. It was my wish that she had roses engraved on her marker. Although the stone is now in place, I required several more engraved upon it. That is why Mr Daniels is working in situ,’ she explained.
‘It is a fine memorial,’ Ruby said, noting that Miss Allinson had only been in her forties when she passed.
‘She was never able to enjoy good health,’ her sister said, and bowed her head in silent prayer. Ruby followed, lowering her head and thinking of her daughter, who would never enjoy the sun on her face or the perfume of roses. ‘If you will excuse me for a moment,’ Mrs Grant said, as she left Ruby to go to speak with the stonemason.
Although Ruby could not hear what was being said, she knew that Mrs Grant was giving instructions with a firm hand. The man scratched his head, before nodding and kneeling down close to the stone to continue his work. Mrs Grant returned to her side.
‘Have you travelled far?’
‘We recently moved to the town. Sarah was born a month early on the day we moved in. I was told Sarah was a pretty baby,’ she smiled, thinking fondly of what might have been.
‘You never saw her?’ Mrs Grant took a dainty white linen handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes.
‘No, I had a fever and was poorly for several weeks. By the time I was in a fit state to know what had happened, and to think clearly again, it was as if the world had moved on and I was expected to forget about her – I couldn’t,’ she added, with a tremor in her voice.
‘I admire you for looking for your daughter, and for having such a handsome son,’ Mrs Grant said, as they looked to where George had wandered away from watching the stonemason. He was now reading the words from a nearby marble memorial, his lips moving to form words as a quizzical look crossed his face. Running back to Ruby’s side, he looked shyly at Mrs Grant before speaking to his mother.
‘What does “in God’s care” mean?’ he asked. ‘I have read it in three different places.’
Ruby started to speak but faltered. How did you explain death to a child? she wondered.
‘It means that God is looking after us, and we can rest happy in the knowledge he is looking over us,’ Mrs Grant smiled. ‘You can read words very well. Would you like to read something to me?’
George nodded his head as she held out her hand and took him closer to the headstone. The stonemason stood back from his work as he wiped his hands on a cloth, allowing George to kneel down close to the bottom corner of the headstone. ‘There’s a little flower,’ he said.
‘It is a rosebud,’ Mrs Grant said. ‘When a rosebud grows it opens into a rose,’ she explained, running her fingers over the intricate roses freshly chiselled into the top of the stone. ‘Sometimes a bud never develops into a full-grown rose, but it is just as special. Can you read the words?’
George ran his little fingers over the five letters, copying how Mrs Grant had touched the stone. ‘Sarah, it says Sarah,’ he grinned as he recognized the word. ‘That is my sister’s name.’
‘Clever boy,’ she smiled, patting him on the head.
Ruby couldn’t speak. The kindness of this woman she’d just met astounded her. ‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ she said, fighting hard not to cry as she didn’t wish to alarm George. ‘You must let me contribute to the cost of this work,’ she added, wondering if her meagre savings would cover the work of the skilled tradesman.
‘Nonsense,’ Mrs Grant said, waving away Ruby’s offer. ‘I know my sister would have been delighted to know she shared her eternal resting place with a baby. When she had better health, she would visit the village school and talk to the children about flowers and their names. She never married, but would have made a wonderful mother. What might have been?’ she sighed, and they all stood looking at the grave in silence for a few moments. ‘Now, I wish you to take my card, as I would like to hear about how this young man progresses with his lessons. I take it you attend classes?’
‘He starts school the week after next. We have been fortunate to place him into a school that comes highly recommended by my neighbours. I have worked with him on his numbers and letters and, as you can see, he is able to form words,’ Ruby said proudly.
‘Most commendable.’ Mrs Grant opened a small bag that hung from her arm, and pulled out a white card. ‘Here is my address. My husband is one of the managers at the Vickers works.’ She pointed towards one of the factories close to the river. ‘Now, you may have other plans for the boy, but when he is of an age to be thinking of work, I would like him to meet my husband and consider an apprenticeship. Smart lads are always required, and he would have a bright future with the company.’
Ruby took the card and looked at the address. Avenue Road: she thought she recognized the name. Stella would be able to tell her where it was. ‘I don’t know what to say; we only met a little
