Words of Mischief by Stella Turner

 

Every day she scanned the death announcements in her local newspaper for a suitable man, right age, and nice name. Until today no one had been vaguely suitable.

Robert Quinney, aged 62 beloved husband and father. Here he was, Mr Right!

She bought a beautiful sympathy card and chose her words carefully.

Bob, thank you for all the special times we had together. The stolen moments, the weekends away, the furtive glances of love. I was privileged to be your bit on the side. She laughed. The last sentence was completely wrong. She changed it to privileged to be the love of your life. – Sophia xx. Perfect!

Hours after the funeral Sarah, widow of Robert, was opening the sympathy cards given to her by the kind funeral director. They were so comforting. She’d even managed to smile at the one from Sophia, the love of his life.

She was pleased Bob had found some happiness in his final months. She presumed Sophia was a member of staff or a patient at the Early Onset Dementia Unit.