In between the privet hedges, imperial green leaves tough and shiny, and the wooden trellises around which wind the sweet-pea flowers, wiry and heavily scented, Mick kissed Reenie for the first time. She will remember this on the day when, coming home from Mick’s cremation to a house with no garden, she decides to plant a tree for him at the allotment. In the Gardens where they first kissed an apple tree was in blossom. A bee swung lazily through the air, drunk on pollen. Reenie screamed in a high pitched voice that said, I’m not really scared but I’d like you to protect me please. Mick was bluster and gallantry, waving the bee away from Reenie, although his bluster said I am scared of bees but I’d really like to kiss you so I’ll try to forget that for now. The bee ignored Mick’s heavy hand and focussed on the daisy chain Mick’d laid over Reenie’s hair like a crown.

Mick swore, waved his hands more forcefully, tripped over the broken concrete paving, punched Reenie in her eye. Reenie squealed, finding it hard to remain coquettish. Mick stammered, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, bloody bees, bloody paving, bloody garden. His face flushed as The Moment began to slip away. Reenie grabbed his arms, then remembered to be ladylike and let them go. She said, oh Mick I might have something in me eye.

Mick became calmer and stiller and put his hands round Reenie’s face, cupping her cheeks. Reenie thought, this is more like it, and tilted her head up. The canopy of leaves and blossoms above her was backlit by spring sunlight. She could hear voices of other couples approaching; women’s voices hitting high notes, men’s voices providing a bass beat below. It was now or never. Reenie felt Mick’s hands shiver a little where they touched her skin. He put his thumb on the bone under her left eye, a bit too heavy.

I can’t see anything in there, Mick said. His eyes squinting into hers. Reenie took Mick’s hand away from her face, stood up on tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth.

Mick gasped, staggered a little, re-gained his balance. Reenie waited anxiously through this half a second of reaction time. Then Mick kissed her back.

On the December day when she will plant an apple tree at the allotment, Reenie will remember that kiss. The thrill of it. The thick man-smell of Mick. The prickle of his stubble on her lips. The way they’d sprung apart as strangers came around the corner. The way they’d swayed back close together, both with I’ve got a secret smiles as they continued their walk through the Gardens. Fingers brushing together, but not touching, when they found Reenie’s parents again by the pond. Her dad looking out for them, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

It’s that day in the Gardens that Reenie will think about as she waters the tree in the frozen ground. It won’t be the coffin moving away into the furnace. Nor the I’m sorrys and He was a good mans from their friends. It won’t be the wet faces of their kids and grandkids that she’ll remember as she hits the hard earth down around the new tree.

She’ll remember that day in the garden when Mick kissed her for the first time under an apple tree in blossom. When Reenie steps back to look critically at the new apple tree she will hear Mick say, just off to her left, bloody hell you’ve arsed that up. You’ve planted it all cock-eyed. Reenie won’t jump half out of her skin as she expects she will. She’ll realise that of course he wouldn’t just leave her alone after so long.

Even though in the future Reenie won’t hear Mick every time she wants to, and sometimes will hear him when she’d wish he’d just keep his nose out –

Even though she’ll never tell anyone else that he’s still around, instead she’ll keep a secret smile about it –

Even though all right she’s an old woman stubbornly living on her own and people are getting worried about her, she’ll know she’s not alone. She’s not alone.