Black script lettering reading "If you kiss me goodnight I'll know, everything is alright" runs diagonally along a forearm.

Script quote along a forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A close photograph of a line of black cursive script running diagonally across the inside of a forearm, reading "If you kiss me goodnight I'll know, everything is alright" over two lines. The lettering is solid black with even weight and smooth, flowing strokes, and the background is a plain pale wall. The composition is tightly framed on the arm, with the text filling the length of the forearm.

Lettering Forearm Quote Script Lettering Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

You are on your knees in Nan Ivy's vegetable beds at Waxwell Lane, levering bindweed out of the leek trench before the frost comes, while the light goes the colour of marmalade over the shed roof. Bea calls from the kitchen that the kettle's on and the pie has gone cold, but you stay where you are, because the soil is still warm under your palms and the job is nearly done.

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Ivy had a habit at dusk. She would sit on the back step with her cardigan buttoned one hole out and make you stand in front of her like a schoolboy. 'If you kiss me goodnight, I'll know everything is alright,' she'd say, tilting her cheek towards you as if offering a coin to a slot. You were nine and mortified. You did it anyway, every evening of that summer, and the kiss tasted of carbolic soap and peppermint.

The house sold in October. Now the garden is yours to clear, and under the rhubarb you find her trowel, its handle split and gone silver with years of palms. Bea wants the rosemary, the big bush that scented the back door, so you dig it out root and all and wrap the clod in an old feed sack, the hessian going dark where the soil seeps through.

At the gate you stop and look back. The kitchen window is yellow and Bea is a shape moving behind it. You cross the wet lawn, set the rosemary down, and bend to press your mouth to her cold cheek. She goes still, then laughs, then says, 'Go on, then,' and for once you know exactly what she means. You carry the bush home in your arms, and behind you the kitchen light clicks off, and you know, the way Ivy always did, that everything is alright.