by Christine Bennett

Created on: October 29, 2010

Mary looked up at the ceiling, there was a mark by the light, a little fingerprint on the white paint.

Her mind wondered back, she smiled at her husband and he reached for her hand, looking up at the fingerprint too, he knew what she was thinking.

When they first moved in to the house he had painted every room, they were so much in love, newly married and longing for a new baby, that night as they went to bed she had laughed and said new home new baby.

Nine months later their son was born, they called him Gordon.

Max felt her squeeze his hand, he had tears in his eyes, so many years gone by, that mark was Gordon’s fingerprint, he had been painting using their ottoman as a table and his little fingers were still wet when max had lifted him up to the ceiling, with sheer delight Gordon reached up and touched it.

“Leave it” she had said, "he'll always be with us when we sleep."

Ten years later Gordon had died from Leukaemia, he had smiled his last smile cuddled them for one last time and told them he was going home, but he told them when they were sad to look at the print on the ceiling and they would see him there.

Max felt a teardrop fall on his hand and he wiped his eyes, hoping Mary hadn’t seen it, but he needn’t have worried, she was so very tired tonight, she smiled at him, her eyes suddenly seemed to shine bluer than normal, as she whispered, “He’s there Max, can you see him, he’s holding out his hand, he’s waiting and he’s so happy where he is, Oh Max can you see him?”

Max looked up but all he could see was the same little fingerprints, he turned back to Mary, just in time to hear her say, “I’m going home Max, I’m going home to see Gordon”

Max climbed on the bed beside her for one last cuddle, the cancer had finally got the better of her, she silently drifted away, but as he looked up he saw another set of fingerprints, I love you Mary, he whispered, and you too Gordon, and inside he wished he was going home too.

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