Jean watched through the window at the moon reflecting off the sea and the little children playing noisily on the beach. It was a temperate day and she felt pleased, reminiscences floated back to her from teenage years: when she had fallen in love with John, the weather had been in this way and she, as a coy young woman with big eyes and a head of vibrant red hair, had been delighted to catch the eye of, a young politician. Her lips that seemed to ask for a kiss had fascinated John as he walked though the park one day on his way to work, and despite the fact of his shyness his he had bought a box of chocolates – he said they were just like she was.
Their loving fate blossomed and Jean felt sad as she kept in mind holidays and picnics, fairground rides and canoodling in the back row of the cinema. John never forgot her birthday and was always giving her nice flowers and chocolates and leaving loving notes around the house – even after 50 years of matrimony.
Her eyes brightened as she remembered some ardent moments – almost being caught by a farmer as they rolled in his haystack; skinny dipping in the warm...
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