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— After the last race had started I wandered off to take a few pictures of the race, and then made my way to where the concert, the Santana concert at that, would be taking place. I found a spot not far from the front and sat down on the ground to wait. I went through the day’s pictures and started to weed out some of the ones I wasn’t going to use. In the background I could hear the last race winding its way to its finish, and then that too went quiet. On the stage the roadies checked the instruments, and the lighting guys tested the spots and the stage lights. The sun had left the sky, daylight bleeding gently away. As it got darker, the concert started, Carlos Santana playing like the rock god he is. I raised my camera. After a couple of songs there was movement beside me. I glanced around and saw that about half of the grid girls had just arrived. They were milling around each other laughing and chatting. I looked back to the stage and took a few more shots. The crowd was. If you should have expected it, then so should I."He cleared his throat. "Er ... Dulcie..." he reached in his pocket and pulled out a small box. "I bought this ... well, it was going to be a Christmas present, but I think I'd like you to have it now ... and wear it, please."She raised her eyebrows but took the box. Opening it revealed a jet cross, perhaps two inches tall, on a silver chain necklace."Why ... it's lovely, Peter. Thank you. But shouldn't you have one too?" I took the precaution of buying its twin so we match," he said. He was smiling, but it was somewhat grim. "They do say nothing happens by chance to a child of God."(For the benefit of those unfamiliar with the stone, Jet is a black stone than polishes like marble. As far as I know it occurs only in or near Whitby in Yorkshire, and has been prized for jewellery since Queen Victoria took to it after the death of her beloved Albert).Dulcie took the cross out of its box and fastened it round her neck. It sat high, just.
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