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visitor over the last few weeks and days, a lady, an old friend I think. She would just come, sit quietly holding his hand and talk to him for a while and then go, disappear almost. I'm sorry I did n't manage to speak to her. You must have just passed her in the corridor. An elegant looking lady, very striking in an Edwardian style dress and red boots and she always had a Gladstone bag with her. She dropped this on her way out; an old photograph of them in their younger days perhaps."

He handed the picture to the son. He recognised his father, Harry, much younger of course, sitting under a tree surrounded by daffodils, but not the lady or where it was taken. He turned it over. 'My darling Romeo' it said in faded copperplate writing.

The funeral at the village church was a few days later. In the shade of a tree by the cemetery wall a couple stood hand in hand, surrounded by daffodils watching the funeral, the slow walk to the graveside, and the mourners in their grief following the coffin. As they watched the man slowly turned to the woman next to him, kissed her gently and squeezed her hand. She was dressed in an Edwardian style dress and wearing red boots. In one hand she held a Gladstone bag. She was smiling and her blue eyes twinkled in the morning sunshine.

Learn more about this author, Antony J Waller.
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