Her breathing became very shallow and I called Doctor Johnson Junior. He said all he could do was make her comfortable. We sat together by her side and watched over her.

As dusk crept upon us, she sat up and grabbed my hand. She looked me in the eye and smiled at me. The first time ever, I believe, that woman has graced me with a genuine smile. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, and raised her frail hand to my cheek.

An hour later she took her last breath. I do not suppose there will be many to farewell her. She had few friends and so many of us are now gone. The burden of living to this wretched age, I suppose, when funerals replace weddings and wakes replace baby showers, and we mark the years with ever fewer Christmas cards.

My head is heavy tonight.

I must sleep.

Ivy

Nicole opened her notebook and outlined a scene. The feeling that surged through her as she wrote again was thrilling.

The rain began to slow and black storm clouds dissipated as the sun forced its way through. Nicole put down her pen and picked up Charlie’s second letter.

When she returned from town she headed straight for the boatshed and knocked lightly on the old wooden door.

‘What?’ came the weak bark from behind.

Nicole entered and the air caught in her chest. She made her way to Charlie’s sleeping area and found him sitting in the chair shivering.

‘You’re going to freeze to death.’ She chided as she ripped his quilt off the bed and wrapped him tightly in it.

There was a packet of cup-a-soup on the sink and she boiled the jug.

‘Drink this.’ She handed him the hot mug.

‘I’m fine.’ He grumbled.

‘You can keep telling yourself that, but I don’t believe you.’

Eventually Nicole convinced Charlie to climb into bed. Once he was there, it didn’t take long for him to drift off to sleep. She took the opportunity and ran back to the cottage to gather a few supplies – a blanket for herself, a casserole she had in the fridge, some paracetamol.

The day melted into night and Nicole kept vigil.

Despite the medicine she’d given him, his temperature stayed high.

Charlie grabbed her arm.

‘I can’t get them out … the flames are too big … I can’t …’

He fell back on the pillow.

Nicole rinsed the washcloth with fresh cold water and lay it gently across his forehead.

Somewhere around two in the morning, Charlie’s fever broke. Relief washed over Nicole.

A few hours later, as sunlight filtered through the portal window of the boatshed, Charlie stirred.

‘Are you here again?’ Charlie sat up, clearly weak, but the colour had returned to his skin.

‘I didn’t want you to miss me.’

‘I can’t miss you if you never leave.’

Nicole laughed.

‘You can go. I’m fine.’

Nicole raised an eyebrow.