The necklace is not made of lapis lazuli, aquamarine or opal – it’s just a trinket, worthless and so old that the marbled aqua-green paint is gradually wearing off the white ceramic beads. But the string of beads was shiny and pretty when, many years ago in Australia (well before Chris), it was given to me by Joseph.

During our love affair I used to wear the necklace almost every day; and when we parted finally I put it away in a jewellery box, which I rarely opened. With the passage of time I would  look in the jewel case occasionally and even select the necklace to wear with outfits of matching aqua-green or complementary orange. When the clasp broke several years back I didn’t have the heart to throw away the aging beads; instead I hung them over the top edge of my dressing table mirror so that they became duplicated on the front surface of the mirror; and many times I forgot the broken clasp and felt disappointed when I found I couldn’t wear them.

Last June a well-wishing stranger contacted me through my website.

“I have news of Joseph Gyorffy,” it read, “please get in touch if you’re interested.”

Shortly after making contact I restrung the beads and put on a new clasp. I wore the necklace on the plane. I wore it last week on my visit to see our mutual friend. I was about to take the beads off as I prepared to go out shopping this afternoon but something prevented me. You know it’s only a trinket, quite worthless, and yet…