Authors: Amanda Jennings
Sworn Secret (42 page)
Lizzie smiled at Jon, who smiled back and nodded.
‘My grandmother touched many lives and was an inspiration to many people. I know she was to me. News of her illness came as a massive shock to all of us. Our family were just recovering from a traumatic year following Anna’s death, and to be hit with more devastating news was unbearable. I felt as if my world was collapsing.’
Lizzie paused and took a couple of deep breaths as she felt the threat of imminent tears. She didn’t want to cry. Her grandmother wouldn’t have cried. She would have stood straight and read clearly. Lizzie squared her shoulders and ran her eyes over the congregation.
‘Just days before she finally lost her arduous battle with cancer, a battle she fought with the stoic bravery that typified her, she gave me the tortoiseshell comb that I’m wearing today.’
Lizzie stopped speaking and turned her back towards the congregation to show them the comb with a quick bobbed curtsey. A quiet rumble of laughter rang around the church.
‘She wore this comb in her beautiful hair every day that I knew her. And that day, she took my hand in hers and told me she was giving me this comb as a reminder that life is for living, that it was a magnificent collection of fleeting moments and that each of these moments is as precious as the next and should be embraced. We spoke about Anna, my beloved sister, and she said that though I would always miss her, I must never let her memory, or indeed the memory of any of our deceased loved ones, interfere with these moments. She took both my hands and told me to grab every opportunity that showed itself; she told me to keep learning, to keep reading and improving my mind, and never assume that I knew anything wholly. She said that intelligence is a gift. My grandmother was a strong woman, opinionated and bright. She didn’t like asking for help, but at the same time she was a selfless and compassionate human being, demonstrated so clearly by the unrelenting way she cared for and loved my grandpa. She was loyal, principled and determined, and I pray these are qualities I have inherited. She also had the capacity to give and receive great love, and this is something we must all strive to achieve. I am thankful, as I hope you are, for the privilege of knowing someone as special as my grandmother.’
Lizzie looked at the sea of faces in the church, then settled on her mum and dad. She watched her mum holding her grandpa’s hand, his knees covered by a new tartan blanket.
‘Well done,’ her mum mouthed.
Lizzie smiled.
Then she turned and stepped down from the lectern. She paused briefly in front of the glorious portrait of her grandmother. It was still wet. Her mum had only finished it in the early hours of that morning. She had worked on the painting day and night for six days. It was a triumph and, at that very precious moment in time, Lizzie was the proudest daughter in the world.
Table of Contents
The Tortoiseshell Comb: Part One
The Girl in the Cage: Part One
