Ellie’s grave was at the end of a row. As they got closer, Joe saw the fresh white roses in the flower holder – Ellie’s favourite flower.
Joe stood over her grave and took a deep breath. Black granite, like most of the rest, but it was the words in gold that hit him.
Eleanor Parker. Much loved daughter and sister. Died 19 May 1998
. That was all it said, but what else could it say?
Flashes came back to him, of Ellie walking towards a woodland path, her college bag on her shoulder, her headphones on her head, the wires from her Walkman trailing out of her bag. And then he saw the man further along, loitering, his hands thrust into the pockets of a grey hooded sweatshirt, the hood tight around his face, even though it had been a hot day. He should have shouted, because he had sensed the danger, but he hadn’t. He had stalled, scared, and watched as Ellie disappeared into the trees. She had looked up briefly as she went past him, and then as she carried on, he had followed her.
Tears welled up in his eyes. He reached out to touch the stone.
‘I’m sorry, Ellie,’ he said. It was what he always said.
He let the sun dry his tears. Sam didn’t say anything to him as Joe tried to stop them, but when he wiped them away more tears replaced them, along with memories of Ellie, her golden hair flying in the breeze on those summer walks they had taken, the family complete, he and Sam wrestling on the grass, Ellie all laughs and shouts.
He stayed like that for a few minutes. He looked to the ground. She was down there, a few feet under, and he had to force himself not to think like that. That would not be how he thought of her.
It was getting harder to remember Ellie though, because her face was being replaced by Ruby’s. When he remembered Ellie, he started to see Ruby.
He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes.
He felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder. ‘When you told me about Ellie’s murderer, that you look for him every day – is that true?’
Joe nodded.
‘And you are going to kill him?’
Joe nodded again.
‘Then we’ll lose you too, because you’ll end up in prison, with people like Ben Grant. Why not channel your efforts into it the right way? Become a prosecutor?’
Joe shook his head. ‘I do what I do. This is the way it’s always going to be.’
‘And us? Me and you? Having a detective for a brother?’
‘You’re not thinking of leaving the force, are you?’
‘Of course not.’
‘So we’ll be fine,’ Joe said, and he smiled. ‘We’re brothers. It should mean something.’
Sam returned the smile and started the walk back to the huddled group at Monica’s grave.
Before Joe turned to join him, he touched Ellie’s gravestone. ‘I won’t forget,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll make it right.’
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