Alice saw her first. The hands were as long as before and held some gardening device that looked familiar. Everything was in shadow so Alice guessed at the mouth and put the rest of the woman into shapes that she had once known better than her own. It was if Freda was provisional now, a collection of shapely possibilities and Alice smiled slowly at the thought of drawing her cousin all over again. But then she had not come today for Freda’s sake or for herself, she had come for George who was leaning into her arm, murmuring the name of his Aunt’s favourite flower. Hibiscus. Hibiscus.
From the dark corner of the shed Freda watched Alice breathing. Hot woody air weighed between them, but only Alice’s chest moved. Freda scooped up her feelings for Alice and touched the past pieces moving them forwards and backwards through the spaces where she still was. So was it a love for all time after all, or was it because just now, just there, Alice had brought her a gift that softened the loneliness that had patrolled her for as long as she could remember. She wanted to be tender again. Alice still had not managed to tie her laces since that time. So Freda put down her rake and stepped slowly into the orange light that seemed to be growing brighter as she moved.
‘Hello Alice’ a voice said, ‘Hello George’. It was hers.