We met the following Thursday as agreed and I was suddenly nervous. It was only as I walked through Wanstead Park, after I waved Kurt off, that my mind started whirring about what had happened since I had last seen Kurt. His circumstances had changed, time was difficult for him at the moment and my re-introduction to his life would only confuse him. I approached the lake underneath the massive hanging trees and sat on a bench that someone had dedicated to their beloved wife Mary. I couldn't help but consider the possibility that Kurt might not want me in his life to complicate things further. Maybe I should leave him in peace. It had been twenty years, our time had gone perhaps and I had just become a lonely man, with only my thoughts for company.

I had decided, on my walk back to my flat, that I would see Kurt no more, leave him to return to his wife with no fear of his conscience eating away at him. I couldn't bear the thought that he would suffer at my hands. I had caused enough pain twenty years ago.

The idea that he had nearly killed himself, that he had loved me so much, hurt my heart when he told me and I almost couldn't bear to look at him. I had sat on that train, all those years ago, feeling Kurt slip away from me on the train going in the opposite direction, wondering what I had to live for now. I felt dead inside anyway and I did not welcome the idea that I had to carry on, pretend to my family that everything was hunky dory and travel to South Africa and start a new life. As I sat and watched the sun set from that park bench that evening, dreading the thought of arriving to my flat to find no one there, I thought back to my life there in Johannesburg. In many ways I was cruel to Kurt – at least I had new opportunities, a new mission to accomplish – Kurt had nothing but his banking job and his wife and children. His life, in the twenty years I had missed him, probably hadn't changed that much.

My week reflected my thoughts before I met with Kurt on the next Thursday. I met up with old friends, people who had forgotten me but now invited me into their homes for evening dinner with their families. They recommended places to go, hobbies to try in my loneliness but I knew I would need more to occupy my time, now I had so much more of it. I had moments of hilarity with friends in pubs where the buildings had changed beyond recognition. My mood seemed to change as my inability to reach a concrete conclusion regarding Kurt showed itself. I soared thinking of throwing caution to the wind and meeting Kurt regardless of the consequences, at other times when I was lonely in my flat, I would think that Kurt would be better off without me. As I sat waiting in the café at Milford station on that Thursday morning, I decided that Kurt should be allowed to make that decision as so much had been taken away from him before.

He looked even more haggard and distraught as he entered, his head lower, his shoulders appearing burdened and my heart went out to the poor beautiful man I saw before me. He looked up upon entering and attempted a smile as he sat opposite me. I immediately went to order fresh cups of tea and teacakes.

"Thank you for meeting me again," I whisper as he takes the offered tea and he seems to sigh as the steam warms his tired face. He smiles, seemingly ignoring my comment.

"I think tea really does solve quite a few problems," he said suddenly but it didn't seem to remove the sadness etched there.

"How is Edith?" A flash of pain crosses his face but his British resolve is again a veil he places to protect himself from harm I suppose.

"She has now got pneumonia," he says sadly, "There is no hope, I have just visited her and must return this afternoon. Bobby and Maggie are there, but I don't think she will last long and I shouldn't be here."

"Please Kurt, don't feel you have to stay, I completely understand that you will want to be with your wife."

"No Blaine," he said suddenly, looking up with wide eyes, "No I need to be here, I need to see you again. I need to believe that you'll keep coming back, that I will always be able to see you and that you're not a dream." He looked as if he was physically exhausted and I wanted to really hug him, impart some love on those tired shoulders, help him to realise he was so adored and that if I could take it all away for him I would.

"Oh Kurt, I'm no dream, I will be back as often as you want me to be. I left once, I don't intend to leave again." I was so sincere, he blushed.

"Thank you," he whispered, "I think I love you even more now than I did then, is that silly?"

"No, I feel the same. I know I never stopped loving you but knowing how you're hurting and I can't remove it, kills me. Life was never easy I suppose."

"No it's cruel," he said with hurt and venom clear in his voice, "Did you hope, when you saw me again, that I would be free, like you are?"

"I never thought I'd see you again," I said, "I thought I'd die before I had that pleasure. Just to know you were happy in life would be enough, to know that you fulfilled your dreams and lived life to the full – that's all I wanted."

"Well I didn't," he said bitterly, "I never dreamed of doing anything more with my life, never lived life to the full. I can think of nothing that I achieved that was not expected of me." He looked so angry at himself, such a disappointment, I didn't know what to say.

"There is still time," I said kindly and Kurt's eyes suddenly filled with tears and I felt panic rise in my chest. I didn't know what I had said to make him feel that way.

"I'm sorry Kurt," I said, reaching for his hand in between us on the table.

He shook his head but squeezed my hand affectionately. "I never thought I would have time and now it's been taken from Edith so cruelly I won't waste mine."

He finished his tea and he rose abruptly, donning his coat. "Will you come with me? To see Edith I mean?" he finished upon seeing my confused expression no doubt.

"Really? You would want me there?"

"You are a doctor," he said calmly, "So your presence can be explained and no one needs to know about us. Edith did know of your existence, I spoke about you occasionally and she may be too ill to speak anyway. I can introduce you to Bobby and Maggie."

"Do you think that's wise?"

He sat back down slowly and I could see he was thinking it through, his emotions written on his face.

"I think it's time Blaine."

I nodded and he helped me into my coat.

xXx

She was much worse than I had thought. Pneumonia was quite common amongst terminal cancer patients and her treatment had made her weak. She might only have days to live and the doctor in charge of her case, clearly said this to Kurt as he spoke to him in the corner of the room. As Kurt returned to her bedside, I was introduced to Bobby who shook my hand firmly and smiled as well as he could. Kurt explained that I was an old doctor friend of the family that had lived in South Africa for twenty years. Bobby looked as if he wanted to ask me questions about my time there but he seemed to remember where he was and looked to his mother again. She was sleeping although she seemed to be having difficulty breathing. The doctor adjusted her breathing machine and left Kurt to stroke her hand gently. He seemed to forget I was there and I took a seat and watched his angelic face as he cared for her in any way he could. Bobby relayed information about how she had been as Kurt had been away and explained that Maggie was getting tea.

"She seems to be under the impression that tea solves anything," Bobby said, laughing ruefully. It had obviously been a family saying and I felt like I was intruding. Kurt had built a life here and I had disappeared. I wished that I had someone here besides Kurt but he suddenly looked at me and smiled.

"Thank you for coming Blaine," he said, "Does everything look ok here? I mean do you think she's getting the best care?"

"Yes I think so." Bobby looked carefully at me, trying to work me out I guess but he said nothing.

"I think I'll see what Maggie's getting up to," he said and stood, exiting quickly.

"He always was perceptive," Kurt said, his eyes still remaining on Edith, who seemed to stir in her sleep and a pained expression appeared.

"Maybe I should go Kurt," I said, feeling awkward and Kurt looked up as if that was a ridiculous notion.

"Will you be ok?" he asked, and I almost laughed until I realised he was serious. He had such compassion, he seemed to forget his own suffering.

"Yes, I'll be ok," I said, donning my coat, "Will you?"

"Yes, thank you for coming with me Blaine, it helped me."

"I'm glad Kurt," I walked over to his side where he sat next to Edith and I stroked his arm tenderly. He continued to look at Edith but I could hear the tears in his voice as he started speaking.

"Please see me next Thursday," he whispered, almost begging.

"Always."

xXx

I met him again the following Thursday but this time I took the car and met him outside the station. The refreshments room had become a dismal soulless place since we had last been there twenty years ago and I thought Kurt would want a change of scenery. He looked like he had been crying as he approached the station, his eyes red rimmed and puffy.

"Kurt?"

"She died," he whispered, his voice choked and I immediately hugged him close. I could feel his shoulders shake as I brought him closer, cries wracking his body. Once he was spent he parted from me, grabbing his handkerchief to mop his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said embarrassed.

"Don't be ridiculous Kurt, let's go for a drive."

We sat in the car in silence for a while before I got the courage to ask about Edith and his family. He looked pained again, almost as if he was hoping not to mention her at all.

"She died yesterday and we were all there as she took her final breaths. The nurses were magnificent, always caring, no matter the hour. Only her breathing looked painful but they gave her what they could to alleviate the pain. Bobby is sorting the funeral out today and Maggie has returned to her children."

"I'm so sorry Kurt," I said as I drove us to the countryside, somewhere where we wouldn't be disturbed. I touched his knee as I looked at the road and I could hear his breath hitch beside me. "I know she meant a lot to you."

"I hope she never knew how much I wished to be gone," he said sadly, "I would sometimes look over at her, she was always so happy to be sewing or completing puzzles and I always felt so dissatisfied. I hope she never knew." Fresh tears trickled down his face and no more was said.

"She would never have known Kurt, I'm sure of it. You were always so loving, you would never hurt anyone intentionally."

"I know but sometimes I couldn't hide it and she would ask if I was happy."

"What did she say to you this week? Did she know that she was dying?"

It must have helped that my eyes were on the road as he continued strongly explaining. As I glanced occasionally in his direction I could see his eyes also were resolutely staring at the road.

"Yes I think she did, my mask kept slipping and she would look at me carefully through tired eyes. I think she wanted the pain to end. The day before she died, she had been given pills to ease the pain and Bobby and Maggie went home for dinner. I stayed and she touched my hand gently, imploring me to tell her the truth when I answered her. She asked if she had lived a good life, whether she had made me happy." He swallowed fiercely and I thought for a moment that he might not be able to continue but he did. "I didn't know what to say to her but I suddenly knew she would recognise a lie so I told her the truth. I said she had lived an exemplary life and was always admired for her bravery and moral standing. I said she had been an excellent wife and mother, bringing up her children beautifully and that she should have no regrets. Her life had been beautiful."

"Did she question you any further on your happiness?"

"No, I glossed over the answer, covering it with truths about her but as I finished she paused, looking at me carefully before she said that she was glad." There was a long silence and I didn't prompt him any further, he already seemed lost in his own thoughts.

"She knew," he said simply.

xXx

We ordered lunch at the pub we had visited before, all those years ago. The owners had obviously changed but on inspection and enquiry it transpired that the original owners were still alive but elderly and their son had taken over, keeping the family feel to the pub. We ordered lunch and sat in a corner, hoping not to be disturbed further. Kurt looked morose but almost as if a burden had been taken from him, at least he had spoken to someone about it. I hoped I would always be the person he would be able to speak truth to.

"How have you been Blaine?" he asked suddenly, "All this talk of me and none of you."

"Oh, I'm ok, I've been fine." I always tried to brush feelings aside, so much time holding myself together and not showing the world what I really wanted. I suppose a habit of twenty years doesn't go away quickly. He smiled.

"It's me," he whispered, coming in closer, "You can tell me the truth." He smiled encouragingly and all of a sudden I wanted to kiss him, make him closer somehow.

"I've been lonely I suppose," I said, finally admitting the truth, "It's been strange to be back in England where everyone has moved on and they have their own lives. I've met up with old friends but I find it hard to occupy my time, now that I have so much of it. Do you still work at the bank?"

"Yes but my role has changed as the years have gone on. I still manage to get out of the office on Thursday, though for a while it was too painful to have a day off, so I worked the full week for several years." I nodded in understanding.

"What did you really want to do with your time when you were little? What was your dream job?" he asked and I must have looked surprised that the topic was brought back to me because he smiled sweetly.

"I suppose I really wanted to be a singer. I learnt to play the piano from when I was little but when I became a teenager my dad really wanted me to have a stable profession and I enjoyed caring for others. I knew I could make a career out of being a doctor and I don't regret it. It had to be a vocation really, a passion of sorts and I enjoyed my time out in Johannesburg."

"But now you have time – what will you do with it?"

"I play the piano in my flat most days and walk around the park. I occasionally meet friends but I know I need to find something to occupy my time. I can already feel myself going a little crazy."

"Why don't you sing? Have you ever been to the Stafford Hotel in London?" I shook my head. "It's a lovely quaint hotel which has been around for years but has an odd little bar which seems to transport you to an old world or a money boys' club. It has plush leather seats and reminds me of those great American club houses, where people of 'old money' go to drink whiskey and comment on their game of golf. It has quite a collection of carvings and pictures as the story goes that a guest commented on the bare walls and once brought a carving of an American eagle, which was soon followed a kangaroo given by an Australian. The walls are filled now with ties, model airplanes, photos and other historical artefacts hanging from the ceilings and attached to the walls. They have the greatest piano in the corner and people are invited to play. Maybe you could play there? Prepare songs to sing?"

I didn't know what to say. Kurt had given me a purpose, something to discover and enjoy and he couldn't possibly know how important it was to me but it felt like a life line. Tears pooled in my eyes and I blinked them away, aware that I had no reason to cry but Kurt noticed and smiled gently. He said no more but I knew he understood.

We spoke about the lives we had missed and hours seemed to fly by before Kurt said he should get back to Bobby and Maggie. He showed me pictures of his grandchildren and I mentioned that he didn't look old enough, to which he laughed and said she had married young. He was staying with Maggie until the funeral and he cringed at the thought of the young children that had been keeping him awake at night.

"They may look cute in the pictures but they can sure make noise," he said, laughing slightly.

I drove him back to the station, our place that we would always return to I hoped. I walked him to the platform and I suggested we meet on Thursday in two weeks time, knowing that the funeral was on Wednesday and Kurt would need time. As he was about to get on the train from an empty platform, I grabbed him quickly and kissed him on the cheek. He looked startled as he stood by the open window on the door but he soon waved, thanking me for a lovely time. He smiled, then mouthed 'I love you' as the train whirred into life and went away. The two weeks would feel a long time before I saw him again but now I had hope, now I knew love again and I walked down the platform after the train left, a spring in my step and a song in my heart, for the man of my dreams had returned.