The autumn sun was
warm, but the air felt like champagne, sparkling and full of light. Luigi, Cody and Jason sat in the garden
chairs on the back verandah and chatted with Lucasta and Eleanor. It was peaceful in the sun. In the distance, there was the grumble of
lorries on the main road, the clang and ping of trams. From neighbouring gardens there came the
indistinct mumble of people chatting, of washing machines going, of some energetic
soul mowing. The world felt right.
Even Cody felt
some peace. His life was in ruins;
worse, he had ruined Phillippa’s life.
Well, there was nothing he could do now.
He had to start again. From
scratch. And his grief and humiliation
and terror still howled deep inside him.
And yet, on this autumn morning, with people who didn’t judge him or who
at least had suspended judgment, he had hope.
He could start again. He wasn’t
dead, murdered by a demented pervert. His life was in front of him. And into his head came the renewed vow, that
he would make his life worthwhile, and do something to pay back Fate or God or
Life for his good luck.
And he wasn’t
alone. He had friends. Luigi and maybe Jason. And Eleanor and Lucasta. Perhaps he could get a room here. So he wouldn’t be a burden on Lou and piss
him off. If he still had a job. If.
Gawd, you make me weep with hope N
ReplyDeleteP