Fellowship.

• Author: Shah, Bina
• Position: Influence of environment in creative writing

They drove by Stopsley Common, and Yusuf got off the bus at the corner of Butterfield Green Road, to walk the few hundred metres to the Vale. He rested his eyes on the peaceful farmland beneath Warden Hill, the gently undulating carpet of gold, red, and green. The air soothed his cheeks and caressed his hair; he found his mind slowing down, turning over his thoughts with a detached calm that felt completely natural. There was nothing to be afraid of: he was coming to say goodbye to an old friend, to pay his respects. Nowhere seemed more fitting for this duty than this place, this time.

"As he walked along the road, he remembered how Mrs Colewyn said that mornings were her favourite time of day, when the rest of the day stretched out before you like a road that you could run or walk down, depending on your mood. She would have liked the feel of this morning: a gentle amble down a peaceful country road, the birds calling to each other with the surprised greetings of long-lost friends.

"Finally he reached the chapel at the Vale, a tiny red-brick building surrounded by oak and plum trees, a round bed of riotous pink, white and purple flowers in a shady circle at the entrance. Yusuf stopped to look at them; a lone, lazy, marbled white butterfly sailed from one to another with careless luxury. But instead of their perfume, he smelled the scent of lemon cologne that she kept on her bureau as a memento of her youth. It lingered just beyond the edges of memory as he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders to step inside the chapel."

This is an extract from a short story I wrote in September 2009 called The Believers, in which a British-Pakistani teenager befriends an elderly Englishwoman of Irish-Jewish descent forming an unusual, complex, but strong bond that crosses generations and ethnic backgrounds. These last few paragraphs of the story capture what I feel is the essential relationship...