He couldn't breathe. He staggered back and then steadied himself.
'Edith ... That's her name. That is it.' he thought. And then he realised.
'Oh my God, Edith ... I've found you.' He bent down and touched the stone with the back of his hand, the way he used to touch her face.
'My beloved ... Edith ... I've been looking for you for a long, long time. How did you no help me find you?' He rested his cheek on the cold marble and started to weep. It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. All those years without her had come to an end. He could finally grieve again for the woman he had lost so long ago. He looked at the plot again. It was covered in weeds, and moss had started growing inside the inscription.
'What have you done to yourself?' he said 'You need a good spruce up.' Ignoring the pain in his joints, he got down on one knee and started pulling at the weeds.
'You've got yourself in a right old mess. You need me to look after you don't you?' He put the weeds in his pocket and tried to rub the mould off the decorative stones that had been placed around the border. He picked at the moss with his nails and muttered under his breath. Suddenly, he stopped. He remembered about the man. Using the gravestone for support, he slowly pushed himself up again.
'I've got to go, my love. But I'll be back tomorrow. I'll bring you flowers. I'll see if I can get you some fuchsias. I know how much you like them.' He ran his fingers across her name.
'See you tomorrow, my Edith.' He blew her a silent kiss and made his way back through the rows of crosses and carved angels to the entrance. When he reached the gate, he steadied himself against the railings.
'What was the date again?' He thought '1947.' Little threads of doubt started fluttering around his head.
'I'm not sure that's right ... When was it ... just after the war ... and we'd moved to Denistoun. Tom would have been four. Was it 47? Or 48?' He tried to work it out with his fingers. Just then the man reappeared.
'Awe right Arthur. Any luck today?'
'I thought so ... but now I'm no sure ... I'll need to check something when I get home.'
'Oh well there's always tomorrow if she's no the right one.'
'Aye.'
Arthur stepped out of the cemetery. The man closed the gate behind him, wrapped the chain around the metal frame and snapped the padlock shut.
'I'll see you tomorrow Arthur.' but Arthur didn't reply. He was deep in thought.
'His time will come' the man muttered to himself and he went back into the gatehouse.