Memories Are Made of This

by June Francis

  He cleared his throat noisily and ran his hand over his thick silvering hair. ‘I’m getting old, lass. It was dark brown when I last saw you.’

  ‘Being in your fifties isn’t old,’ she chided. ‘You’re still a fine figure of a man.’

  ‘And you’re just as pretty as the first day I saw you.’ He walked across to her.

  ‘I looked a mess that evening you found me.’ She reached up a hand to him and he took it, grasping it firmly.

  ‘It seems a long time ago now.’

  ‘Yes. Do sit down, George.’ She indicated the chair close by. ‘We’ve a lot of catching up to do.’

  ‘Shall we leave them alone?’ said Beryl in a low voice.

  Jeanette nodded. She had a strong feeling that today was a new beginning for all of them.