She runs! And we hug,

“Darling!” ­­

“Sweetie!”

I missed yous are dutifully exchanged.

“How was the drive?” It was good, good.

Her dark velvet pleats are a shade deeper than my corduroy, I notice.

“Yours?” Great, good.

I wonder, where the deep circles came from. She wonders where the pink in my cheeks has gone to. I grasp her hand a little tighter. We’re both doing well, we establish. She’s been busy, I’ve been getting on fine. The parents are well.

I break the silence of cheery banter.

“Sorry.” Yeah, she acknowledges. Neither missed the other. Neither wanted to meet.

I open up the black umbrella. She pulls down the black veil. Modern; inevitably chic.