Sitting in his favourite chair in the garden of Summer Hill, Fred Dowsett closed his eyes and wondered if he was ready to die. It surprised him to realise until his lunchtime conversation with Edith, he’d never really thought about this before. To try and uncover the answer, he rummaged through his life and relived his favourite memories. There was the September after the war when, with his medal from the King, he was cheered walking down Adstone High Street. Then there was the summer day he married Lizzie in the chapel on the hill and the first holiday they spent camping in St. Ives when it rained for a week and…

“Freddy Dowsett, what are you dreaming of with that charming smile on your face?”

Dazzled by the sun, Fred thought for a second it was Lizzie, but the old familiar ache filled his gut when he remembered it would never be her again. It was a few seconds more before he recognised the woman with the sky blue eyes and dimples.

“Oh, hello Edith. I was just getting all nostalgic and must have dozed off.”

She chuckled and leaned so close that Fred could smell peppermints on her breath. “You don’t need to wallow in the past to feel happy Freddy. Remember what I said about my secret?”

Fred ran his hand through his hair. When they first met, Edith said it made him look like a wise old lion, a silver Aslan. He smiled even though he had no idea what she was talking about. That was nothing new. She often said things that lost him. That day, over a lunch of under-cooked potatoes and over-cooked lamb, she’d squeezed his hand started going on about this secret of hers

“You and me both know this is it, Freddy. This is where it all ends. Our next stop is six feet under. So all I’m saying to you, dear boy, is that I have the secret to us living a little better and a little longer.”

He nodded, feigning interest just because he liked the sound of her voice and her company, and how she laughed so easily. But when she’d asked if he wanted to know more, he mumbled something about not having thought much about dying.

“Well, you must be the only person in this damned place who hasn’t. Let me know when you want me to share it with you. No rush. We’re not going anywhere, are we?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

And now here she was, interrupting his reminiscences with the same old talk. He’d rather go back to his dreaming, but he didn’t want to tell her to go away, so he dragged himself up, made his excuses and went back to the little box room he now called home. Yet even there, thoughts of this secret stuck with him like a raspberry pip in the teeth. That night he found it hard to sleep, and when he did he dreamt of Lizzie. The way she pouted, just like she did when he’d snuck home after one ale too many, woke him in a sweat.

“Listen, Lizzie, after forty-seven years together, I’d know if you were waiting, I’d feel it. But even though I don’t buy into this heaven lark I’d rather be on my way than hang around much longer without you.”

He felt better after speaking his thoughts aloud, even in the middle of the night with only the moon and the stars there to listen. He avoided Edith for a few days afterwards. Sometimes in the TV room, he saw her staring at him with a strange look on her face. If he caught her eye, she’d turn away. It made him feel bad, cruel even, that he wasn’t curious about her secret, but he wasn’t one of those people who clung onto life like a limpet.

Late one afternoon, he decided to tell her that the good parts were done and now he was winding down. She was sitting on the bench by the pond staring at the water. Fred was gazing at her, not even realising he was doing it, when the sun came from behind a cloud. The light, honeyed and mellow, covered her in a soft glow and for a few seconds made her look as if she’d been crafted from burnished bronze. Fred’s mouth dropped open. His body gave a little shudder. He stood staring for a while longer, then slowly made his way over to her.

“Freddy, I’m glad to see you’re not frowning today. I know this place can be a bit glum at times, but it’s summer and summer is for smiling.” She patted the bench. “Keep me company for a while?”

He sat next to her and cleared his throat. “I’ve been considering your suggestion.”

“Oh yes.”

“I might not have had any children, but I’ve had a full life. I had a great wife and friends I’d die for. But when I arrived here, I came to terms with just fading away.”

“What else could you do, Freddy?”

Edging closer, he realised he was sweating, and that his heart was all fluttery. He hadn’t felt so ruffled, so zingy, so alive for a long time. “That’s what I was going to tell you just now, but then I saw the sun shining on you and it made you look really beautiful in a way I'd never seen before. I didn’t think the world could still surprise me like that. So, this thing you’ve been talking about. I’d like to know it.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” she said, taking his hand.

“Absolutely.”

She smiled, moved her face so close to his they breathed the same warm summer air and kissed him. He wasn’t sure how long she held him, but when she finally let him go, he couldn’t stop grinning.

“Is that your secret?”

“That’s part of it,” she said, and kissed him again.