45 Years Page #2

Er, yes, indeed.

I'll be right back.

No rush.

You have reached Geoff and Kate.

Please leave a message.

My Autumn's Done Come

You haven't listened to this

for a long time.

- How are you feeling?

- I'm fine.

What have you done to your finger?

Oh, yeah, I was, er... trying to mend the

lavatory and, er, well, I cut me thumb.

Ugh.

Did you manage to fix it?

It needs a new ballcock, I think.

- Tried calling earlier on.

- Did you leave a message?

No, I just wanted to check

you were all right.

Right.

- What are you reading?

- Kierkegaard.

Gracious,

are you having a go at that again?

You know, you have three editions

of that book,

and I don't think you've got past

chapter two in any of them.

Yeah, it's been an odd day.

It sure has.

I just, er... stayed at home,

you know, grappling with the ballcock.

But y-you're right.

I hardly go walking any more.

And it was a nice day, so off I went.

- So, where did you go?

- Just to the village.

To buy cigarettes?

I haven't lost my sense of smell,

you know?

I just don't want us

to start smoking again.

No, I-I won't, I won't.

I promise.

OK. Go on.

So, I was in the village,

and I don't know what happened

but that racist

from the community centre...

Mm. Sandra Wilkins.

Yeah, her.

She came up to me, right up to me face,

and she kept asking me if I was all right.

And when I said I was,

she wouldn't believe me.

And... I wasn't doing anything.

Nothing. Just sitting on the bench

by the duck pond,

minding me own business

and getting some air.

All done.

All I was doing, I promise.

I believe you.

She's a dreadful woman.

- Just ignore her.

- Mm.

Is it all right?

Oh, it's great. Great.

Yeah. Mm.

A drop more?

Mm, thank you.

- What?

- Nothing.

- There's something I want to tell you.

- OK.

You know, I-I feel sure

I've told you before,

but it was a long time ago,

so, I mean, I could be wrong.

- OK, go on.

- Yeah.

Um, I-I was her next of kin.

What do you mean?

Well, officially.

I-I was her next of kin.

I'm sure I told you this before, Kate.

I think I would remember my husband

being another woman's next of kin.

- Why?

- Why what?

Well, why were you her next of kin?

Because they thought we were married.

- Who did?

- The authorities. People.

What made them think that?

We-We told them we were.

You weren't, though?

Oh, no, no, no. No, h-hell, no.

We just had to pretend, so people

would let us stay in their houses.

Different in those days, Kate,

and then after the accident...

You're not lying to me?

No. Kate, she wore a ring on her finger.

It was a small wooden ring,

like a curtain ring, made of oak.

Funny you'd remember that.

Well, it wasn't real.

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