Maureen Fry and Rex

Maureen Fry and Rex are neighbors on Fossebridge Road in Kingsbridge, their gardens divided by a fence that is slightly lopsided because of the slope. Their relationship begins in earnest when Maureen, unable to bear the secret any longer, confesses to Rex that Harold is not at home, that she has been lying about his whereabouts. This confession, delivered with trembling legs and light fingers, is a watershed moment for Maureen, who has spent years isolated in her grief. Rex's response is one of quiet, steady kindness, and it marks the start of a friendship that becomes a lifeline for her.

The Confession and Its Aftermath

Maureen finds Rex in his garden, trimming the borders of the grass with a blade in the shape of a half-moon. She stands at the fence and asks in an airy way how he is getting along. When he asks after Harold, she tells him the truth: Harold isn't at home, and she has been lying. She smothers her lips with her fingertips, forbidding further words, unable to look at him. Rex's reaction is not anger or shock but a gentle touch. He places his hand on her shoulder, and it is the first time anyone has touched her in a very long time. The relief is so intense that grief comes shuddering up through her body, and tears slant her cheeks. She feels she has thrown away everything. Rex simply says, "Why don't you come over, and I'll put the kettle on?"

A Friendship Deepens

Maureen has not stepped inside Rex's house since Elizabeth's funeral. She imagines a felting of dust and a general level of mess, because these are not things men notice, especially when mourning. But to her astonishment, the surfaces shine. Potted cacti stand at intervals along the windowsill, so regular it is as if he has measured them with a ruler. There is no pile of unopened letters, no muddy steps on the mushroom carpet. It even looks as if Rex has bought himself a length of plastic protector and laid it down as a path from the front door. Maureen checks her face in the circular mirror and blows her nose, looking pale and tired, her nose glowing like a warning light. She wonders what her son would say about her weeping in front of a neighbour, and she tries so hard not to cry when she talks to David.

Rex drives Maureen to the Start Bay Inn at Slapton Sands. She can feel the passage of the alcohol, cold at first and then almost burning, as it slips down her throat and loosens her muscles. She tells Rex it is strange to set foot in a pub again; since Harold has become teetotal, she rarely drinks. They agree that neither of them is in the mood for cooking, and order an early bar meal with a glass of wine. They make a toast to Harold's journey, and she feels a lightness in her stomach that reminds her of being a young woman, and in love for the first time. Since it is still light, they walk along the spit of land between the sea and the ley. A pack of gulls flies with the wind. Rex tells her you can find warblers here, and great crested grebes, and that Elizabeth was never very interested in wildlife, saying it all looked the same. Sometimes Maureen listens and sometimes she doesn't, thinking of Harold and replaying in her mind the scene where they met forty-seven years ago.

The Pilgrimage Map

Rex gives Maureen a giant-sized map of England mounted on a pinboard, with two small mirror hooks attached to the back so it can be hung from the wall. He points to Kingsbridge, and there she finds a drawing pin, wound with blue thread, that stretches to Loddiswell. From there, the blue thread creeps to South Brent, and on again to Buckfast Abbey. Harold's route to date is marked up with blue thread and drawing pins, ending at Bath. At the top of England, Berwick-upon-Tweed is marked with fluorescent-green highlighter pen, and a small homemade flag. There is even a separate box of drawing pins so that she can display Harold's postcards. Rex suggests she could stick them on parts of the country he isn't visiting, like Norfolk and South Wales. Rex puts up nails in the kitchen for the map and they hang it above the table, so that Maureen can see where Harold is and fill in the rest of his journey. It is a little lopsided because he has difficulty with the drill, and the first Rawlplug is swallowed into the wall. But if she looks at the map with a slight tilt to her head, it is barely noticeable. Besides, as she tells Rex, it doesn't matter about things not being perfect.

The Journey to Darlington

Maureen can bear it no longer. She confides in Rex that, against David's advice, she is going to find Harold. She has spoken with her husband on the phone; he hopes the pilgrims will reach Darlington by the following afternoon. She knows it is too late to make amends for the past, but she will have one last stab at persuading him to come home. As soon as it is light, she fetches the car keys from the hall table and slips a coral lipstick into her handbag. Locking the front door, she is surprised to hear Rex call her name. He is wearing a sunhat, a pair of shades, and clutching a hardback road map of the British Isles. "I thought you might need someone to navigate," he says. "According to the AA, we should be there by late afternoon." The miles speed past, but she barely sees them. She says things while knowing that none of them add up, as if she were saying words that are only the tip of the huge mountain of feeling beneath. What if Harold doesn't want to see her? What if the other pilgrims are with him?

Significance of the Bond

Rex's role in Maureen's life is that of a steady, unassuming anchor. He offers her the first physical touch she has received in years, a gesture that unlocks her pent-up grief. He provides her with a tangible way to follow Harold's journey, transforming her passive waiting into an active, visual engagement with his progress. His willingness to accompany her to Darlington shows a commitment that goes beyond neighborly duty. Through Rex, Maureen begins to re-engage with the world outside her grief-stricken home, finding a companion who listens without judgment and acts without expectation. Their friendship is a quiet counterpoint to the grand, public drama of Harold's pilgrimage, a small, private miracle of human connection that helps Maureen find the strength to face her past and, ultimately, to reunite with Harold.