I: a memory

We were walking in the New Forest
Hand in hand
You were complaining about the speed of my pace
"Can we go holiday pace?" you pleaded
I was on Waterloo Bridge speed
I relaxed, breathed in the fresh air
Felt happy to be alive
And then I spotted
The most beautiful house
The other side of the water
"What a beautiful house!" I exclaimed
"But you can't afford it, Beverley" you retorted.

Beverley?

The silence hung heavily in the air
My name isn't Beverley