George stood surveying the lawn wondering where to start. The leaves had come down in last night’s winds and he wanted to clear them before the next downfall. He smiled to himself; he loved this time of the year. He had shared a long and happy life with Rose; they had both enjoyed watching the leaves turn colour. He had planted a wide variety of trees in his garden; he missed their special garden, for the past few years he had become content with a small plot bordered by huge sycamore trees sheltering the house from the traffic beyond.

As Rose began to fade in her last few weeks, he remembered with fondness all the friends who had helped him through that time including Jennifer.

‘How come we have never met Jennifer before?’ said Emma his eldest daughter.

‘Not sure,’ said George, ‘ perhaps she's a friend of your mother’s?’

‘You know she isn’t.’

‘Ah well,’ he said supping his mug of tea.

Jennifer did not come to the funeral. She wasn’t really family.

A figure moved across the lawn towards him. He stopped raking the leaves; his face lit up.

'Jennifer, what a lovely suprise,' he said, smiling.

‘I was watching you from the window; you were lost in thought.’

‘I was just remembering other autumns.’

‘Well I’m so glad I have you all to myself now. It couldn’t have been easy living a lie most of your life.’

‘I’m sorry dear. I never meant to hurt you,’ he said taking the tea and sitting down on the bench.

Jennifer put the tray down on the low wall and sat next to him. Their hands linked. ‘You never stopped loving me did you?’

George shook his head, ‘No I didn’t; trouble is I loved you both. I couldn’t give one up for the other.’

‘I understand,’ she said patting his hand.

‘Do you think Emma will visit us?’

‘Too early to tell. She knew there was something going on. She had a hunch that I was having a relationship but could never prove it and I wasn’t prepared to clarify matters for her. I wanted to leave Rose but I couldn’t; besides we had children.’

‘You don’t have to explain to me,’ she smiled and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Shall I take your book in? You must have left it outside before lunch.’ She placed the well thumbed paperback of ‘Sons and Lovers’ on her tray. ‘Can’t really get into Lawrence myself.’

‘I don’t deserve you.’

‘Don’t be daft.’

Jennifer collected up the mugs and wandered back to the house; she turned and smiled as she reached the door. George felt his phone vibrate. He checked the caller. He would send a text to her later.

’I think I’m getting too old for this game,’ he thought.