A sneaky peek at Jumping in Puddles

... which has been the subject of my ferocious editing for the last few weeks.

The cemetery in Rathinch sat, as all good Irish cemeteries do, on a hill. It was shielded from the wind coming off the sea by a row of tall and sad looking trees which were shedding their leaves all over the gaudy floral displays and stony paths.
Niamh was pretty sure that if she tried she could walk to Sean's grave with her eyes closed. She had been there often since he died just to make sure the flowers were fresh and the stone kept clean. Sean would not have liked a dirty headstone - nor would he have liked wilting flowers. It would have tarnished his image and he was all about the image.
Standing at his grave she thought of all the times she had cried there and all the times she had hidden her tears because the children were there to leave pictures and presents for their daddy. Still there, on the foundation for his headstone, was a little yellow tipper truck Connor had left the last time they had visited. Normally the sight of one of her son's toys on her husband's grave would have made Niamh weep wild and hysterical tears, but today it just made her angry.
"They didn't deserve a daddy like you," she muttered, snatching it and putting it in her bag.
"And I didn't deserve a husband like you. All I ever did was love you," she said, sitting down on the damp grass.
"How could you hurt me?" she asked. "How could you deceive us? Why was I not enough? I did everything you wanted! I was the perfect wife. I cooked. I cleaned. I gave you as many blow jobs as you wanted. I polished your shoes. I never showed you up in front of any one. I never told Kevin to fuck off, even though I wanted to tell him on many, many occasions. I loved you," she said, realising that with every word she had been tearing flowers from his grave.
He loves me. He loves me not.
Standing up, she dusted herself off and looked at the gold lettering again. "Beloved husband and father". She wondered how much it would cost to alter and then, walking away knowing she would only ever come back when her children asked her, she walked through the weeping willow trees and onto the beach.
She didn't feel sad - disappointed maybe, but not sad.