I'll never forget...

We met under the trees in the car park. I was late again, she was waiting by her car. We kissed and turned towards the path that would lead us to the bridge.

It was one of those magical summer evenings - warm, a slight breeze, the orange sun throwing our lengthening shadows ahead of us as we walked across the grass. We held hands, we always did, and talked mostly of the future. What would that future be like? Some dark days and difficult decisions lay ahead for both of us. Arguments with, and recriminations from, those we both once loved. Neither of us wanted that, but it seemed inevitable. When the time came, it ought to be swift and clean, but would it be?

We laughed quietly to ourselves as we watched and listened to a grandfather telling his two small charges about the conkers hanging in the trees. He lifted one up on his shoulders to reach them and a tiny hand eagerly reached out to grab one. Then, a sudden squeal of pain as the young fingers closed on their target and grandfather realised that he had forgotten which were horse chestnuts and which were the prickly, sweet chestnuts.

We walked on, now following one of the tarmac roads that weaved through the park. The bridge was in sight now, its statues and iron gates spotlighted by the setting sun. Soon we were at the bridge, squeezing through its narrow gate together like a pair of escaping spaniels.

We held each other as we watched the swans on the lake then leaned over the parapet to see if there were any fish - there never were. Perhaps the herons ate them all.

Eventually, we walked back into the dying embers of the sun to our cars. Steady, reliable family cars. We kissed again, the passionate, lingering kiss of farewell. She left first, going home to him. I followed, inventing yet another story for my audience.

There would be more evenings like this. Then the future. Together.