The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(42)

I quickly realise I won’t be laying my flowers. These graves are centuries old and are fenced to stop what I imagine is the likes of me from getting too close to them. It makes me wonder who is buried beneath my feet.

I walk towards the building that stands proud beyond the tombstones—a chapel. It’s not a huge building, but the impressive tower gives it enough of a neck to contend with the buildings it’s surrounded by.

It’s the brickwork and pretty grounds that are so unlike the other buildings that draw your eye.

When I spotted the chapel with Maxwell, I was caught up in the excitement of the Zara I spotted opposite. I didn’t take enough notice, but I knew I wanted to come back.

I round the walkways, looking at the different stones and the wording on each. Some are weathered and broken, the words barely readable.

I come to a stop in front of a giant bell. It sits on a stand at the top of the pathways, and I lean in to read the inscription.

“The bell of hope.”

I spin to find a man sitting on a bench.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter awkwardly.

It’s obvious he’s been watching me by the way his wrinkled face smiles at me. It’s an easy smile.

“What for?”

“I don’t know. I… I don’t know.” I smile, feeling stupid.

“The bell of hope was a gift. Sent from London,” he informs me.

“Really?” I smile and turn to look at the bell again.

“Forged in adversity—11.September.2001.”

Recognition clicks, and I find myself looking up and across the graveyard to where the World Trade Center once stood beyond.

I place the flowers at my feet and trace the words on the bell.

“THE ENDURING LINKS BETWEEN THE CITY OF LONDON AND NEW YORK CITY.”

“It’s so….”

“Grand.”

I peer over my shoulder at the elderly gentleman, then step back and towards the bench he’s sitting on. “I’m from London.”

“I thought as much.”

I smile and look down at my feet. “Do you mind?” I ask, pointing to the bench.

“Of course.”

“It’s surprisingly peaceful in here. Away from the hustle and bustle on the streets.”

He hums in reply, and I wonder if he would prefer peace. Maybe he was only being polite, and I should leave him be.

“What’s with the flowers?” he asks.

“Well,” I start, laughing under my breath as I look down at the arrangements. “It was my first day at my new job today, and I had a delivery of a million flowers sent to my hotel room whilst I was out.”

“A million.” He eyes me sceptically, but his top lip curls with the wisps of his grey moustache.

“Fine. A lot of flowers.”

“An admirer?” He pops an inquisitive brow.

“A friend.”

He leans into me like elderly people do. As if they’re about to tell you a secret. “You know, you lost all credibility when you came at me with a million flowers.”

I laugh, not expecting his reply, and he sits back, rearranging his stick on the chair beside him. I can tell my reaction to his smartness has tickled him.

“My name is Lucy,” I tell him.

“Ralph.” He nods back.

“Do you come out here often? The building is beautiful.”

“Every day.”

“Every day?” I repeat, surprised. “To the chapel?”

“I do. My late wife is here.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I frown, looking around at the stones. I’m certain they’re centuries old.

“Not in here,” Ralph answers my wandering thoughts, lifting his stick and pointing through the trees. “I wasn’t one of the lucky ones. They never found my Elsie.”

I lock my jaw and frown harder, blinking away the burning in the backs of my eyes. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know. I sometimes wonder if it was her way of saying fuck you, Ralph.”

My eyes forgo all politeness. They shoot wide in shock. “Uh… you…”

“We were sweethearts and very much in love. Doesn’t mean we didn’t have our moments. In fact, they were my favourite moments. Elsie was my wild girl. She never wanted to settle here in New York. She dreamed of everything beyond.” He looks back at me, a warm look in his stare. “Made sure I knew of it too.”

“You didn’t want to leave New York?”

He shook his head. “I grew up here. Ended up working in film. All my plans were for later in life.”

My heart hurts for the stranger by my side. How life can be so cruel. “What did you dream of?”

“I don’t know. You could say it always changed. I guess finding stability was important to me for a long time. Children. Happiness. Just a life fulfilled.” He dips his head, a sadness washing over him that I feel semiresponsible for. “I got one out of the four, and I choose to believe that Elsie is living out hers in another life.”

My throat aches, and I wonder which of the four he found.

I hope for children, but I don’t ask, and the sheer class the man carries tells me he possesses the stability of a wealthy man.

How devastating.