I’d not known the weather to have emotion and I don’t believe it has. So, when she, on the TV pulled a long face while describing it as miserable, I took no notice. In fact, it looked good for three in the afternoon in November so a quick walk to catch the last of the light was just what I needed. I shared that sort of feeling with Susan for twenty-five years. She died five years ago. I had to drag myself to my office after that. However, I now spend most of my spare time pottering about, reading and talking to myself between brisk walks.
Within half an hour I was standing in long grass by the side of the canal and saying ‘good afternoon’ to a masked stranger. When I first saw her approaching me along the narrow path, she appeared hesitant, but I’d subtly signaled my intention to stand away from her by walking off the path and stopping long before I needed to. She’d responded by walking slightly faster towards me.
‘It’s Tony, isn’t it?’ she asked when she came closer.
I looked at her face as she lifted her hat slightly with a gloved hand, but before I could reply, she said, ‘It’s me Amrita, Amrita Anand.’
‘It’s lovely to see you,’ I replied while desperately searching for a clue to identify her among Susan’s many friends. ‘How are you getting on? Everyone well?’
‘It’s lonely since Adarsh died, but of course, you know all about that.’
‘And the family?’ I asked.
‘This is the problem nowadays. They’re scattered throughout the World, and I can’t see myself being face to face with them for months because of this wretched covid.’
Amrita and I flicked snippets of information back and forth like a shuttlecock, both eager to keep the game in play.
‘Enough of me,’ she said, ‘How are you getting on?’
‘It’s been lonely, but I’m coping reasonably well. It’s been lovely to chat but think we should get going before it’s too dark to see our way.’
‘I guess so,’ she replied.
‘It’s a pity I can’t give you a hug,’ I said.
‘Yes, I’d like that, Tony. Please ring me. It must be over a year. Goodbye.’
I walked on for about ten yards feeling strangely bereft. I turned back and called out to Amrita.
She stopped and waited for me to get to her.
‘I feel really bad,’ I said.
‘There’s no need to feel bad, Tony. I feel the same. I know how difficult it is to talk to someone who has lost their partner. I must face the world at my age and learn to treasure what I’ve known and hope to see my children from time to time.’
‘It’s nothing to do with that. Would you like to have a coffee and a snack or something in a café next Thursday at about eleven o’clock when covid is officially over?’
‘I’d love that, Tony.’
‘I’d love that too,’ I said. ‘But, before you commit, and what’s making me feel bad, is that I’m not Tony and I’ve not met you before.’
HE Roffey