He looked cautiously round her sleeping bag. It was empty and Alan froze. Then, gradually, he relaxed. It was just after eight and she had probably gone to find a place to go to the loo. He waited, calmly, gloomily, and then anxiously as she did not appear. Hurriedly Alan struggled out of his sleeping bag and began to search the grounds of the monastery¹. But there was no sign of her at all.

Panic set in as Alan scoured² the grounds again and drew a blank for the second time. It was becoming increasingly obvious that she had walked out on him and was probably climbing down to Tom. But rather than feeling anger, Alan simply felt desolate³. She hadn’t even left him a note. He went over and touched the inside of her sleeping bag. It felt cold.

Surely she wouldn’t find her way back alone. Alan began to search again, this time through the tangled⁴ thickets⁵ of what might have been a herb garden. Something caught his eye. Lying on the ground was a small, shiny object. It was Alice’s bracelet⁶.

Suddenly real fear clutched at him. Someone had come and abducted⁷ her. Or had Tom come to find her? But the bracelet?

“Please God,” Alan muttered. “Let her be safe.” “Why hadn’t he looked after her? Why hadn’t he been able to reassure⁸ her? Alan now realized how he had locked himself into his own shell of rejection⁹ and jealousy¹⁰. Tom no longer seemed a threat. All Alan wanted was Alice, and if only he could find her they would talk and talk and talk.”

For the fourth time he began to search the grounds, the bracelet in his hands. Then , in a crevice¹¹ on the broken stones of the terrace, he saw something bright and beady. Alice’s ring. And he knew how tight on her finger it was. Sweat ran down Alan’s face.

“Alice,” he cried out. “Alice?!” No response. Alan began to run.

It was only when he was back at the front door of the monastery that he realized there was one place he had not been to. His heart thumping¹² and his throat dry, he went down the steps.

Now he ran eagerly forward, pushing his way through the foliage¹³. He gave a gasp¹⁴ of relief. She was there, lying on the pine needles.

“Alice.”

She woke slowly, sleepily, stretching in the sun. “Sorry—I fell asleep.”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“I went for a walk.”

He held up the bracelet and the ring.“I found these.”He was angry, positive. She looked away.“Come on .Why did you do it?”I’ve been searching for you. I thought—I thought you’d been kidnapped or something. Been hurt?

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s not enough.”

“I laid a trail.”

“You did what?” He was outraged¹⁵.

“I wanted you to find me.”

“I was terrified — I thought —”

“I’m sorry.” She stood up. “I suppose I wanted to frighten you.”

“Why?” he barked at her.

She looked away again. “I didn’t think you wanted me any more.”

“Wanted you?”

“You haven’t spoken to me. You seemed so cold. Indifferent somehow.”

“But it’s you who were indifferent.”

She looked genuinely amazed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I thought you wanted Tom. Didn’t want to be with me.”His voice broke.

“I thought you found him—more fun.”

“Him? Oh, he’s a baby. I was lonely, I suppose. You seemed so fed up with me. I didn’t realized it would — oh , Alan.” She got up and drew him to her , kissing him so hard on the lips.“You are such a bloody¹⁶ fool.” I love you — don’t you know?

“Why did you come here?” he asked.

“I was wandering about. I couldn’t sleep. Look —” She knelt down and stared at the Latin inscription¹⁷ on the two solitary¹⁸ graves. “Who are they?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve often wondered. Dom Carols Fuenta — he’s definitely a monk¹⁹. But the odd thing is that he’s buried alongside a woman.” He paused and then went on. “Maria Degardes. He was buried in 1892. She was in 1894.”

“Were they lovers?”

“I used to make up stories that they were.”

“I was just thinking. A silly thought. I expect you’ll laugh.”

“Try me.”

“Suppose we lived here for the rest of our lives and when we died we were buried here. But in one grave. Together.”

Alan took Alice’s face in his hands and kissed her on the lips.