Its now been forty days since Elizabeth laid her husband, John, to rest.
On the forty-first day, there was a knock at the cottage door. I was standing on Elizabeths old stone path when she answered.
Elizabeth, I need to have a word, I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
What sort of word? she shot back, giving me a rather frosty look.
If Im honest, Elizabeth never much cared for mesaid my temper wasnt suited for village peace. Her late husband, John, for whatever reason, always welcomed me. Without him, I doubt shed have let me set foot near her garden gate. John was a good-hearted sort, too generous for his own good, and on friendly terms with everyone in our hamletno matter how quarrelsome their ways.
I didnt bring it up yesterday, not in front of everyone at the memorial, I went on, a bit hesitant. Didnt want gossip or anything nasty being said.
Didnt bring what up? Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.
Ill get to itjust well, John will need a headstone. Someone should put one up.
Im aware, she snapped, her chin held high. Weve talked about all that with the children. And frankly, its none of your business. Mind your own affairs and stay out of ours!
Dont be so quick to fly off the handle, Elizabeth. I tried to keep my voice steady. A proper monument costs a lot nowadays. A fair bit more, actually. I visited the churchyard and asked about it just yesterday.
Were not hurting. The boys are earning well in London. Well have the headstone, and a new iron fence put up around the grave, too. All as it should be. No need for your reminders.
For goodness sake, hear me out! My own temper was starting to rise. Just once, let me finish. Your children probably dont have cash to throw around. You need it too. But I wanted to pay for Johns headstone. Myself. Completely.
What? she looked at me like I was pulling her leg. Since when did you become so generous?
Thats just how I feel. I respected your John. Thats all there is to it.
What you feel has got nothing to do with me! She all but shouted. Dont you need money yourself? Or are you some secret tycoon? No one in the village has ever thought that. Dont be ridiculous, Nicholas! Youve got your own wife. If she hears youre spending on my Johns grave, shell have my neck.
She wont, I replied, almost stamping my foot in frustration. She already knows and shes all right with it.
She may be, but Im not! John was my husband, so I should sort out his headstone. And I will. Thats that! You can see yourself out now.
Whats got into you, Elizabeth? I said, bewildered. I just want to help. Free of charge. How can you turn that down?
I dont need your charity, she answered proudly. Im not some pauper needing handouts!
You can be downright difficult! I couldnt help but growl. How John put up with you all his life, Ill never know! If you were my wife, Id have shaken some sense into you long ago!
Oh, and now youre going to insult me? She stepped closer to the range, a warning look on her face. Youd better leave, before I fetch the fire poker and make sure you regret it!
All right, devil take it! I shouted back, rummaging in my coat. I slapped an envelope of notes onto her kitchen table. But firstthere! Do what you like with it. Burn it, for all I care!
Have you lost it, Nicholas? Elizabeth stared at the wad of fifty-pound notes, at a complete loss. What are you doing, flinging cash about? Has all this grief gone to your head? Ill just take this over to your wife and she can have a word with you herself.
She wont touch that money. Understand?
And why not? Did you two steal it, or are you just looking to get rid of it?
Oh, for heavens sake, Elizabeth Id just about had enough. Right, youve forced the truth out of meeven though I promised John Id never tell. You see, Im only here to settle a debt. You follow?
What debt?
A straightforward one. Ten years back, John lent me this money helped me out when I was desperate.
John? To you? Money? Elizabeth looked as if an owl had landed in her kitchen.
Yes, and Ive wanted to give it back ever since, but hed never take it. Always told me: I dont need it now, Nicholas. When Im gone help my wife, if she needs it. In cash, or by lending a handThat was John for you. Im not getting any younger myself, and yesterday I thoughtwhat if you need the money, and Im not here to help? Debt like that cant be carried to the grave. So, I wanted to use it for Johns headstone. I thought, let me lend a hand while I still can. Dyou see now?
Youre having me on, Elizabeth said, but her voice was quieter. If John had lent someone that sort of money, wouldnt he have told me?
Not likely. If hed told you, youd have given him an earful for the rest of his days! Theres forty thousand pounds there, you know.
How much? She stared at the notes in disbelief. But how didnt I notice that much gone from the house?
Because John was the hardest working man I ever knew. He built this cottage for you, set the children up in life. Solid gold, he was solid gold.
I just I cant believe I wouldnt have noticed Elizabeth mumbled. Forty thousand pounds, back then? Thats mad And he just gave it to you
Not just me, I admitted, John helped half the folk round herealways made us swear never to mention it.
Why? Elizabeth looked more shaken than before. Why keep it a secret from me? I was his wifepractically his other half
You know why, I shrugged. Wives never like it when their husbands lend money out. Mines just the same. Says its easy to lend, impossible to get it backshes right too. But John well, he was cut from different cloth. He always told usjust return what you owe to my wife, when Im gone.
She slumped down onto her kitchen chair, quiet at last. And there was me thinking all the neighbours had gone soft. One brought firewood round for my bathhouse, another ploughed the veg patch and refused payment. Even old Tom promised me ten sacks of chicken feedjust like that.
Thats the sort of man he was, Elizabeth. Take the moneyuse it as you wish. Might as well get a headstone, but well, thats your decision. Ill go now.
I turned and drew a breath, heading for the door.
Nicholas, wait she called after. Forgive me, for being so harsh. And thank you.
Dont thank methank your John. God rest him. I managed a wry smile and stepped out into the lane.
Elizabeth sat for a long time at her table, running her fingers over the notes, sighing heavily.
Now, writing this in my diarywell, I realise lifes like this: you never truly know someones kindness. It may only be revealed in little gestures, long after theyre gone. I wont forget itnor the lesson to repay such generosity, however quietly, whenever I can.
