Epilogue

The very last chapter in what has been my longest piece of work to date! Hope you all enjoy.

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie.

A few years later, William graduated from St. Andrew's and took a job working as an assistant to Roland MacNab, the Member of Parliament for Edinburgh. His boss was quite kind to him, and treated him like a son. William advanced quite quickly, as he was a very diplomatic and kind person. And, while he was working for Roland, William fell in love with his daughter Kathleen. After courting her for three years, William proposed to her, and they were married a year later.

During that time, Helen and Duncan had another child, a boy, whom they named Edward Gordon Lloyd. Duncan and Helen agreed that it was only fair that this time, Duncan's family name should come first. Heather was slightly upset, thinking that it had been Jean's idea to honour her own husband rather than Heather's husband, but Jean had had nothing to do with it – it had been Helen's idea.

William and his bride had two children as well, both girls, whom they named Margaret Natalie and Judith Olivia. They settled in London, as William's work was based there.

Jean and Heather never did become friends, as Heather remained jealous of Jean all the years of her life. They got along well enough, for the sake of their children and grandchildren, though they never enjoyed each other's company.

In 1969, when Jean was nearly seventy and Edward was eighty-five, the train they were travelling on from London to Edinburgh crashed, a result of brake failure. They were both killed instantly. Everyone was devastated.

At their funeral, dozens of people came – her family, former students, Douglas and Bridget McFadden, Deirdre and her children... it was amazing to see how many people's lives had been touched by that one extraordinary woman.

In her will, she left her worldly goods to her two sons, their wives, and her grandchildren, aside from a few small bequests to her girls (Monica, Jenny, and Sandy), Bridget McFadden, Deirdre, Heather, and Gordon.

She specified one particular thing in her will: that the manuscript her husband had written, entitled "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie", be published. And it was.

Five years after her death, Heather visited Jean's grave, placing a small bouquet of roses by her tombstone.

"Jean Margaret Brodie Lloyd," it read. "Loving wife, loving mother. O Flower of Scotland, When will we see your like again?"

Edward's gravestone was next to hers, simply reading: "Edward William Lloyd. Loving husband, loving father."

"I'm sorry, Jean," Heather whispered, staring at her grave. She stood there for a few moments longer before turning away. It had taken her nearly forty years for her to forgive the woman who had had such a hold on her husband's heart, but finally she was able to let go and move on.

It began to rain, the raindrops making dark splotches on Heather's coat, but still she stared at Jean's gravestone. Finally, however, she turned and left the cemetery, driving back to Cramond. She went to the bedroom she shared with her husband and opened the letter that had been left to her by Jean.

"Dear Heather," it began. "I am sorry to have caused you so much pain for so long. I never meant to steal Gordon's affections from you, and I am sorry that I did. But know that he does love you, and that is why he chose you over me. I wish that we could have been friends, Heather, but it wasn't meant to be. I'm sorry, once again.

Sincerely,

Jean Brodie Lloyd."

Heather then opened the package that Jean had left to her, revealing a beautiful sapphire necklace and matching pair of earrings. There was a note enclosed.

"Gordon gave these to me many years ago, but I know that he always meant for the woman he loves – you – to have them."

Heather began to cry. She had misjudged Jean, and she would never get the chance to tell her so. She had been so stupid all those years, allowing jealous to corrupt her view of Jean's character. But now, five years after Jean's death, she was able to realise that Jean had been a kind, loving person, despite her many flaws.

"I'm sorry, Jean," Heather whispered again. She folded up the letter to put it back in the envelope. Before she could put the letter away, some writing caught her eye.

"I forgive you," it read, in Jean's neat script. Heather smiled softly.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you."

THE END