“You’ve got me confused with someone else.”
“OK, sorry.” Stewart walked away. I could tell he wasn’t convinced. Thirty-four years is a long time. I left as a boy. I returned as a man. How did he recognise me?
I had to come. I had to say goodbye. I loved her. Going to the funeral was too big a risk. So I watched from a hill overlooking the cemetery.
Stewart stopped walking. I prayed that he wouldn’t turn around. He did.
“Are you sure you’re not Joe Grimes?”
Coming back was my first mistake. Coming back would be Stewart’s last.