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Martin stood in the courtyard. Nothing seemed to have changed here, the vines of ivy still grew in a disciplined manner round the doorway. The same flower curtains hung in the window. The drink, as they'd called the stream back then, still ran. Who'd come up with the name had been a bone of contention with his older siblings. Dee, with her love of pirates had claimed it as her own, Ian with his love of all things naval had done the same. Martin had never cared until now, he tried to recall which of the twins had done so but he could not, he felt angry about it even as he knew deep within that like them, he had never really known. All he did know was that he had loved that stream, whether wading in it, fishing in it or just staring at the water rushing off to someplace unknown, it has always brought him a sense of peace.

He shook himself back to the present, blinking away a tear or two that had made its way past his usual defences. He was the ice man, the one who felt nothing. He smiled, this time it was a bitter smile, as he realized he had left it too late. He turned to leave.

“Can I help you?” A young man asked.

Martin smiled, he was the very image of his mother, Dee.

“No, I just wanted to pay my respects,” Martin said. “I knew your mother once,” he said. Wiping away his tears that persisted in falling, he headed back to the car. “Thank you, officer, we can go back now,” he said. He knew now, despite everything, he’d made the right choice all those years ago. He knew now it had been worth it.

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