Ivy Lane: Autumn: by Cathy Bramley

both pulled ‘aww’ faces.
    ‘You big softie,’ I said, nudging him in the ribs. ‘You don’t think it’s one of the community service lot, then?’
    He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. ‘Nah. Stands to reason it’s someone with a key. And the only way they could get away with it is under cover of darkness.’ He shone the torch under his chin to light up his features ghoulishly and gave an evil laugh.
    ‘You’re hardly going to surprise them if you keep flashing that thing around,’ said Gemma.
    ‘Good point.’ He turned it off and laid it on the grass. ‘So,’ he said slapping his thighs, ‘come on, tell Uncle Charlie. You are freezing your butts off in darkness because . . .?’
    I looked at Gemma and she nodded and squeezed my hand. I stared down at our hands, at her wedding ring and my bare fingers and took a deep breath.
    ‘Charlie, there’s something I haven’t told you about myself. Before I came to Kingsfield, I was married to a man called James. Today is the anniversary of his death. Two years today. I didn’t want to be alone.’
    I’d said it. Now both of my friends knew. And as painful as it was to see the sadness in their faces, I was so relieved not to be keeping the truth from them any longer.
    ‘Ffff. . .’ He dropped his face into his hands, leaned forward until his elbows touched his thighs and groaned. The next instant I found myself crushed to him, his arms tight around my back, his breath in my hair, murmuring how sorry he was, over and over again.
    ‘It’s OK, Charlie. I’m OK.’
    Gemma cleared her throat and stood up slowly. ‘Shall I, er . . .?’
    I struggled my way out of Charlie’s embrace. ‘No,’ I said and pulled her gently back down. I looked at my watch. Nearly nine. ‘Please, stay a few minutes longer.’
    ‘Tilly,’ Charlie hesitated, ‘I hope I haven’t been, you know, out of order? Listen, forget about going cycling together. Oh God. If I’d known . . .’
    I laid a hand on his chest. ‘It’s fine, Charlie. Really. But I just need friends right now.’
    That wasn’t completely true. My face burned and I was glad of the dark. I thought of Aidan and that magical moment in the summer when his lips had met mine. I needed more than friends in my life; I wanted to be loved, to know the happiness of being half of one whole again.
    The three of us sat in contemplative silence, lost in our own thoughts, gazing up at the stars, linked by hands and friendship.
    Suddenly Charlie’s body tensed. ‘Shush,’ he hissed, reaching in slow motion towards the torch.
    There was a rustling coming from Shazza and Karen’s plot only a few feet away. I could just about make out a shadowy shape hunched low the other side of a row of bamboo canes.
    ‘They might be dangerous,’ whispered Gemma.
    ‘Yes, don’t be a hero, Charlie,’ I added.
    Charlie raised one eyebrow James Bond-style, eased himself off the bench and crept stealthily towards the intruder. Halfway up the path separating our plots, he lunged forward out of sight and shouted, ‘Gotcha!’
    There was some grunting and scrabbling and I heard a second voice swearing at Charlie to leave him alone.
    ‘Come on,’ said Gemma, wriggling to her feet.
    Against my better judgement, given her condition, we advanced warily to see a pair of flailing legs pinioned underneath Charlie’s bulk and slender fingers wrapped around two freshly dug leeks. I kept my arm through Gemma’s to make sure she stayed on the path until we knew what we were dealing with.
    ‘I can’t breathe,’ gasped a small voice. ‘You’re cracking all my ribs. I’ll sue, you know.’
    ‘He’s only a lad,’ panted Charlie, shining the torch into his prisoner’s face. He hauled himself to his feet, dragging the slight figure up with him. He barely reached Charlie’s chest, but he was doing his best to wriggle free.
    ‘Hold on,’ said Gemma, shrugging me off. She stepped over the remaining leeks towards the pair of them and peered