He was back, After all these years. He held his breath when he saw it. Just the way he had left it. Black trees that bore no leaves. He remembered the fire and the smoke, the coughing and the screaming. It wasn’t always like this.
‘Like a piece of borrowed land from heaven in spring,’ she used to say.
He remembered the last time he had seen her. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll always be here. You know where to find me.’
‘I am going to have an awful time and miss the best part of spring, and knowing where to find you isn’t that useful when I have to spend two months away. I know where to find you but will be too far away to reach you.’
He argued, but with the curves of a smile on his lips. He had to go stay with his aunt and uncle in London. ‘It’s good to have an idea of what urban life is like.’ His father had stated.
It was a red sky when he left her. They were looking at the world through red stained glass. He had kissed her and made her promise not to kiss anyone else until he got back. ‘I promise’ she breathed, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him again. Then he disappeared and she was alone.
She climbed up the wall of the orchard onto the barn roof. She pulled out her leather bound book and a pencil and scribbled down the events of the day while just below her Farmer Sam was wrestling with his money problems. When the match hit the hay, he was gone. He had organised it so his animals were in the field and his children were nowhere near. He just hoped someone would see before the flames spread to the orchard.
She had been writing, but now she suddenly felt the heat beneath her. She saw red from the corner of her eyes. Flames were lapping up the walls from the high windows and smoke rose up into the darkening sky. She jumped up to her feet. But the wooden beams were burnt below and the roof fell with a terrifying crack. She plummeted down into a fiery depth. No one saw the fear in her eyes as she fell. No one heard her pitiful scream.
It was half an hour before help arrived. Too late. Much too late. The fire had spread to the orchard and pink blossoms were being swallowed by merciless red flames. By the time the fire was out, all had turned to black.
As he remembered this, he felt her presence. He heard her laughing in his ears. She held his withered hand and led him down the orchard. It was black no longer. It was like borrowed land from heaven once more. The hand she held was not frail and old. As he turned and glanced back, he saw an old man lying like a ghost. His eyes were closed and he wore a peaceful expression. He knew then that nothing could come between them again. Nothing.
