Silver Threads

Sunshine illuminated the room picking out some of its faded colours and the ‘ragged round the edges’ feel that it had. In spite of this there was still a sense of grandeur, high ceilings, ornate cornices and the most beautiful bay window overlooking an untidy winter garden.

Philip turned and looked at Harriet, ‘I wish we could have seen this place before they converted it, it must have been splendid. Just imagine afternoon tea on the lawn surrounded by the smell of roses. Not at this time of year of course. I suppose way back then they would have had servants.’ His eyes returned to the garden.

‘There would have been fine china, starched table cloths and delicious home made scones with cream and jam.’ Once again he looked at Harriet and smiled. ‘Not quite time for tea yet, and I’m sorry to say we won’t be getting anything home made. Mr Kipling’s best efforts I suppose. But then they do do the best they can, given the circumstances.'

He went and sat next to her, lowering himself carefully into the high backed chair and took her hand in his. A fleeting smile crossed her face as he lifted it to his lips and kissed it.

'We're so lucky. If it hadn't been for this place we would never have met, would not have been able to spend time together, the rest of our lives.' His thumb gently stroked the thin, papery skin and he felt an answering pressure from her hand.

'In my dreams I see us out there on the lawn. It's a beautiful summer's day, the sun making a halo of your hair, just as it is now. We are both young and are looking forward to our life together. You take my hand and we run. Why did we not meet then when we could have had so much more time together? But still we make the most of what we have my love.'

There was the sound of a bell tinkling in the distance. He smiled at her again, 'Summoned by bells.' She inclined her head slightly, acknowledging his little joke. As she did a tear began to fall down her cheek. He bent and took the small lace handkerchief from her pocket and gently wiped it away.
 

'There! Are you now ready for afternoon tea? I think today it might be dainty cucumber sandwiches, no crusts of course. A cream filled Victoria sandwich and some delicious Earl Grey tea with lemon. How does that sound?' The vague smile once again crossed her face as he bent to release the brake on her wheelchair and they made their slow way towards the dining room.