Mike wheeled his bike along the pavement, it was too warm today to ride it and besides he was well ahead in his postal delivery for the day. He stopped off at the local paper shop to read the notices as he usually did when he was ahead of schedule.

He continued on along his way home and came up to old Mrs. Travis' cottage. She lived there alone for the last several years since her husband died and he felt really sorry for her. She was a dear old soul who would not harm a fly and was quite content to potter about in her garden when the weather was fine as it was today.

"Hello there, Mrs. Travis. Isn't it a little too warm today to do gardening?" he asked politely.

The old woman stood up a moment to see who had spoken then said,

"Oh hello postie, it may be too hot for us but that's no reason to let God's creations suffer as well. All these flowers are so thirsty and for the beauty they bring us a little water isn't too big a price to pay is it now? By the way postie won't you come on in for a cool drink of lemonade? I made some fresh only this morning and it's in the fridge right now."

Mike cringed at being called postie, but he never corrected her even though she knew full well his name was Mike. His friends called him Mike and he liked to think she was one too. However he perked up at the mention of the lemonade. If there was one thing she was not stingy with that was her lemonade. On a hot day such as this, anyone who was fortunate enough to stop and chat with her while she was in her garden would be offered a glass or even two, of lemonade with ice in.

"Thank you Mrs. Travis, a glass of your lovely lemonade would go down a treat right now. If you are sure it's not too much trouble that is?" he enquired as politely as ever. Mrs. Travis was of the old school who believed in good manners. So what, good manners don't cost anyone, he mused as he waited to be invited up to her porch as he usually was.

"Of course it's no trouble, why don't you come in and sit in the shade for a spell? I won't be long."

"Thank you," he repeated and pushed the gate open so he could walk up the path to the covered porch and sat himself down on one of the white chairs arranged next to a small table on which lay a book and a pair of glasses. He guessed she must sit out here when she did not feel quite up to gardening, and read. She always had a pleasant attitude for the passerby and a cheery wave for those she knew. It was such a shame that she was all alone in the world though with no visitors ever coming to see her. He asked her once about her family but all she would tell him is that she had no-one left at all, not a cousin and certainly no grandchildren. She and Charles had been unable to have children so when Charles had died it tore her apart and she decided to sell their home and move to this village where she had been living now for the last couple of years.

She returned with a tray loaded with sugar, a large jug of lemonade and two glasses. She set it carefully on the small table between the chairs and asked,

"Would you like some sugar? I have to warn you I made it a little more tart than usual though why I can't figure out. Maybe the lemons were a little more on the sour side perhaps, or I could have forgotten to put enough sugar in. Anyway I had a glass earlier and it wasn't quite as nice as it usually is."

"In that case I think I will have just a spoonful of sugar then," Mike agreed.

"I wonder if you have heard about the Minstrel show that is coming to the village next Saturday?" he asked as he stirred his glass to make sure the sugar dissolved.

"Um? Oh yes I did hear a rumour. I doubt whether it is true though as the last I heard of minstrels shows, they died out years ago. They were good entertainment though in the old days. Charles and I used to go to one fairly often and we never got tired of the songs and the jokes," she explained, remembering the good old days as she liked to call them.

"Well it isn't just a rumour. I read a leaflet pasted on the newagent's window as I came by which stated a minstrel show would be setting up on the village green this coming Saturday afternoon and there are to be two shows, so if you want to avoid the children you can always go to the evening one. If you're interested of course!"

"I don't know, I'll have to see how I feel on the day and what the weather is doing of course. The signs in the garden all point to a storm on the way but who can tell? Would you like some more lemonade?" she asked, seeing his empty glass on the table.

"Oh no thank you Mrs. Travis, I really would like to stop and chat more but I'm afraid I must be running along now. Time doesn't stand still you know," he grinned.

"What a pity! Oh well I suppose you are right though, time does not stand still for anything. It was nice talking to you postie."

"And you ma'am, thank you again for the lemonade, it's most appreciated on a day like this."

"Oh that's all right. Have a good time at the minstrel show if you're going."

"Aren't you going? I'm sure you will enjoy it and it might bring memories back."

"That's precisely why I don't think I will go. I don't want old memories re-emerging, especially not if they happen to be unhappy ones. Well good day to you and I'd best get back and finish off what I was doing in the garden before the sun goes down."

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The talk throughout the village that next week was all about the minstrel show which was coming. The children asked their parents if they had ever been to one before and most of them had to say no they had not. It was not the type of thing one frequented a lot.

Mrs. Travis thought about it a lot too, there was a time when she and her late husband used to attend these sort of shows at the local theatre when they came to town. That was so long ago now and the times changed. She had heard that minstrel shows were supposed to politically incorrect and racist, which was why she was quite surprised to hear the news about this one doing the rounds. She decided to go along to it though as there would be two shows. She would go to the matinee performance just to see how it compared to those of yesteryear.

*******************************************************

Saturday dawned sightly on the grey side and people moaned because they thought it would put paid to the show that afternoon. It did not and the caravan drove into town amid a lot of honking of horns and blowing of trumpets. The troupe immediately took possession of the village green in the centre and began to unpack their equipment. A stage was set up with loose glittering curtains which divided the front of it from the rear giving the performers some privacy to make their costume changes.

Tilly Travis had talked herself into going to the afternoon performance and she was amazed to see how many people had already gathered there, saving seats for friends and relatives who were late comers. She found it difficult to get a seat until Julie Fairchild came along and said,

"Why don't you come up and sit in front next to me Mrs. Travis? George was supposed to be sitting with me but he changed his mind at the last minute and isn't coming now. Anyway a couple of our friends said they would save a couple of seat for us so as there is a seat going begging how about joining me ma'am?"

"I would only be in the way," Tilly protested but Julie would take not take no for an answer.

"Nonsense! Please come and sit with us," she begged.

"Very well." Tilly followed the young woman and they made themselves comfortable just as the show started. There were a couple who did magic tricks, then went backstage to change into Minstrel gear while there was a comic entertaining the audience. The whole entourage then came on and did several Minstrel numbers with a break for an elderly soft shoe shuffle man. He came on and went straight into his number without looking round the audience at first. He did not see Tilly but she saw him and thought there was something familiar about him.

It was not until he was about to go into his second soft shoe routine that he actually looked round him and especially at the front row. His gaze ran the length of the row but came back to rest on a grey haired elegant elderly woman who seemed familiar to him. He felt sure he had met her before somewhere, but many many years ago now. He thought no more about it as the music for his routine started and he concentrated on the steps he had to do. There was resounding applause for him when he finished. He bowed, waved to the audience and went off. All that was left for him to do now was help the others change their costumes and help with the props.

He could not help glancing through the side curtain now and again at the elderly lady sitting in the front row. Her face was so familiar to him yet it bothered him that he could not place when or where he had seen her. Then suddenly it came to him in a flash. She was his old senior school sweetheart Tilly Trubshawe. Yes, that's it! That's it. Tilly Trubshawe, he thought as he took another secretive peek at her. His mood grew cheerful and he began to whistle, something he rarely did while working.

Finally the show ended and everyone came out on the small stage to take final bows. Martin came on, bowed low and smiled directly at Tilly who was thrown into a turmoil of embarrassment at the attention. However she now remembered Martin and who he was too. Quickly, she rose from her seat and headed away from the village green. She really did not feel like dragging up old times right now. The show had helped her forget all her problems. Its myriad banjos, the sparkling medallions some of the minstrels wore and the crimson in the costumes all helped to make a wonderfully coloured extravaganza of entertainment for an hour or so. She did not want to spoil the atmosphere by remembering the old days, especially the time when she and Martin split up.

Martin hurried to pack the equipment away until the evening show and then rushed off after her. He caught up with her just outside the coffee shop and called out.

"Tilly! Tilly Trubshawe! Don't go away from me. Don't you remember me? It's Martin," he said. "I know it's you Tilly, I'd recognize you anywhere no matter old each of us has got. Please Tilly, can't we talk?"

Tilly halted, she did not want to talk to this man. She had nothing to say to him. Why did he have to turn up after all this time? If it had been directly after her husband had died she might have felt different, she needed someone then. Now though, a lot nearer the end of her life, she needed no-one and just waited for death to claim her so that she could be with her beloved Frank once more and throughout eternity. She could not bear Martin to beg though and turned to him.

"Hello Martin. I remember you all right. What do you want to talk about? Old times? Hadn't they better be left to lie in peace? We can't go back to the way things were no matter how much we may feel we want to. I have nothing to say Martin."

"Well then, how about just having a coffee with me and let me do all the talking? For old times' sake."

"How can I refuse? All right then let's go."

They ambled into the coffee shop and found a table in a secluded corner where they could not be overheard.

"The years have seemed to treat you well Tilly," Martin said as they took sips of their tea. "How is dear old Frank these days? Still giving you hell is he?" Immediately he could see he had said the wrong thing, because Tilly put down her cup and looked away. She did not answer and he got worried.

"What's wrong honey? Is Frank all right?"

There were tears in her eyes when she turned to him and said,

"Frank has been gone these past several years now Martin and I miss him so much!"

"Oh dear! Me and my big mouth. I knew I would put my foot in it one day."

Trying hard to choke back the tears she asked him about his wife and was told that she too had passed on not long ago. It had left a large void in Martin's world and so he had decided to join this show and travel around a bit before it was his time to depart this earthly plain as well.

"You know something Tilly? We were both going to ask you to marry us but it was Frank's luck he got there before me. He quite literally took you away from me in other words. Oh I went on to marry dear Beth of course but I never forgave Frank for taking you away from me. I thought about you all through the years, so much so that I can't help but ask you now if we still might have a chance of a life together for the remainder of our days?Do we Tilly?"

"Oh Martin, I wish I could say yes, but I loved Frank so much I could not possibly think about settling down again. Besides you have the show or were you planning on giving that up? You love it so much it would be silly to."

"I had hoped you would consider coming with me on the road. You wouldn't have to dance or anything. Well maybe they would ask you to sing something but you would not be expected to do anything strenuous, I would see to all that. Please Tilly say you'll come!" he almost pleaded.

She did not want to hurt his feelings but she had to tell him the answer was no. She was not in the best of health herself and needed the peace and quiet of her cottage where she and Frank had spent his last days. Martin said he understood. By now they had finished their tea and he was aware it was time for him to get back to the show. He paid for their drink and escorted her out of the shop.

Once outside, he could not help himself and took her gently in his arms for a long and tender hug. Pulling slightly apart, he bent his head to hers and kissed her long and passionately on the lips, as he did once long ago in their youth. It took Tilly's breath away but she realized that he would never be able to get over her and she really felt dreadful that she had to decline his offer to go away together. With only six more months to live though, she felt it extremely unfair to load him down with such a severely invalided partner at this late stage in his life. He should be enjoying life now as she was, living in the village with people she knew around her. They parted company and he crossed the road and headed back to the village green. She watched him go, with more tears in her eyes and wondered if she had been fair to him by not telling that she had not very long to live. Resolutely she decided she had been and turned to head back to her empty cottage, which now for some reason seemed to feel so cold and desolate. She knew they would never meet again in this World and felt she had made one of the biggest mistakes of her life.