Author's note: Thank you in advance for any reviews or criticisms (they are greatly appreciated), and, as always and above anything else, I hope you enjoy!


The Funeral

The funeral was a large one. Sam Jones may not have had much family, but his had been a face beloved by many. He had been a gentle and kind man, an understanding and sympathetic ear to the troubled. Even most of the regulars to his discotheque came, sobered and only a few able to hold back tears that they shed for the man who was the exception to the rule that no one over thirty understood them. Amongst the mourners, Georgina felt alone; for all the others, her grandfather was a friend, but to her, he had been her world. She couldn't help feeling it was selfish, but she wished the mourners were not there for her grandfather, for he was gone, but there for her; oh, sure, they hugged her and told how sorry they were for her loss and to call on them any time, but it was awkward and hurried as if they wanted to rush away as soon as possible. She shivered though the air was warm; she hadn't any more tears, nothing left but deep, lonely grief.

Suddenly she felt a comforting and protective presence at her shoulder, and the wind blew the edge of a silk-lined opera cape against her legs. She didn't have to look to know who it was, as only one person she had acquaintance of would dress in such a manner, but she did anyway. Adam Adamant detected her gaze and met it; his eyes did not shift from hers, as so many of the other mourners did, but gazed back with quiet sympathy. When the vicar had finished Adam turned to her, and murmured, "I am sorry for your loss, Miss Jones. Samuel Jones, from the little I knew of him, was a good man."

Georgina spoke around the lump in her throat with a quiet, and heartfelt, "Thank you, Mr. Adamant."

"If it will not be deemed unseemly, I wonder if I may provide you with dinner."

"How? You haven't any money."

"While my assets are held by the government, I have been provided with an allowance until my identity has been established."

She assented.

The restaurant was more formal than she would have chosen, but it was nice and Adam Adamant was considerate company. In conversation he did not balk from the subject of her grandfather, rather instead he told her of his brief acquaintance with her grandfather; how he had looked as a young man, how he had seemed a kind and honorable, someone Adam would have been proud to call friend if circumstances had allowed. Adam then asked her to tell him about Samuel Jones, and though she started out slowly, soon the stories and everything she had loved about her grandfather came pouring out. Adam listened with undivided attention, and they laughed at the funny stories, and toasted Sam. What had been simply mourning had turned into a celebration of the life of a good man. When Adam had the cab drop her off at her flat, she still cried through much of the night, but she didn't feel so alone and neither did her grandfather seem so gone.