Morning Lily awoke feeling poorly. The day before shed been at the local cemetery. Her husband, Stan, asked her to tidy up his grandmothers grave. While he was hunting for the exact plot, Vera spotted a gaggle of crows perched on a rusted fence. As if the birds were giving her the onceover, Lily glanced at the metal headstone. On a blackandwhite photo was an old lady wrapped in a headscarf. Suddenly a stern male voice boomed: What are you staring at? Get on with it!
Vera, baffled, started sweeping the strangers grave. The oddities didnt stop there. When Stan finally located his grandmothers plot, the ancient stone had been swapped for a gleaming marble slab and the picture had changed too. Instead of the elderly matriarch, a young woman beamed at the camera.
I dont understand a word of this! Stan stammered. Who could have done it? No relatives left. Everyones buried here.
I have no idea how this could happen, Lily groaned.
***
Veras hands throbbed mercilessly. More than anything she fretted about who had replaced the monument at Stans beloved grannys grave.
Could it be a hallucination or some sort of witchcraft? she asked her husband.
See a doctor, Stan advised. And as for the headstone, Im as clueless as you are.
At the clinic Lilys ordeal turned into a fullblown saga. The surgeon suggested joint injections, which she refused. The Xray showed nothing, and the doctor sent her off with a prescription for ointments and painkillers. On top of the hand pain she developed fatigue and low blood pressure. Lily felt as if every organ in her body had turned traitor. This went on for days. The medics found nothing, and the young woman began to brace herself for the worst. Her flatshare neighbour, popping in for salt, didnt recognise Lily:
Love, whats happened to you? asked Mrs. Vera. You look dreadful.
Lily recounted the tale of the disembodied male voice ordering her to clean a strangers grave and the sudden transformation of the headstone at Stans grannys plot.
A voice, you say? The stone and the portrait changed? the old lady mused. Sounds like the keeper of the cemetery took a fancy to you. Maybe he felt sorry, maybe he was paid off.
How? Lily sniffed.
Black magic! the neighbour huffed. You need to see a vicar.
The vicars help did nothing. Lily suffered from the mysterious ailment for a whole year. She had to quit her job. Moving around her flat became a chore. After Easter, on the day of remembrance, Stan suggested she pay a visit to the departed relatives:
Think you can manage?
Ill try, she replied.
Youre the keeper of the cemetery! Lily sobbed, Take my gift! I dont want to die! I have kids, a husband! Take other peoples sicknesses back!
Lily wailed loudly. It felt as if every ghost was staring at the frail, miserable woman. In the mens eyes on the photograph a flicker of sympathy appeared.
Take the £500! a whisper rustled in Lilys ear. Go with God! The one who summoned you will get a comeback blow.
Why are you crying at someone elses grave? Stans excited voice called out. Come on!
The grandmothers headstone was back to its original form. The photograph once again showed the sadlooking old lady.
No way! Stan shrieked in horror.
I want to live! Vera cried again. Keeper, protect me!
***
The next morning Lily awoke completely healthy. Thoughts of yesterday swirled in her head. She guessed which relative had caused the mischief. Her husbands sister, whod never liked her from the first meeting, soon fell ill and passed away. It was hard to believe any of it, but she couldnt deny the feeling that something had finally settled.
