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One late summer night not twenty years into the twenty first century and during a double dip recession that had ripped through the nation at that time, a young man in his mid thirty’s and a woman with a child in a pushchair were walking towards the town of St Ives in the northern most westerly coast of the British Isles. They were dressed in quality clothing of an expensive brand and on their feet soft leather shoes of the elite kind. That only the wealthy of the population could afford.

Travelling from the northern part of the Midlands, from a place know as Birmingham and having hitched a few lifts of varying transport their journey which had taken its toll on their bodies and intellect. A good bath and hot food would not have gone with out relief to the couple and the child, but this was only a dream and a far cry from the luxury of their past.

The man was of straight posture, slim and muscular with a light suntanned face that had the look of refinement and good breeding. His hair had golden sun kissed highlights, short at the back and side and falling into a handsome wave at the top of his forehead. He wore a dark blue, well worn, tailored velvet jacket, covering a light green linen shirt and pale blue chinos; they had been rolled at the bottom revealing Italian cotton socks. On his back he carried a large rucksack and attached securely at the top was a see through plastic bag containing three expensively bound books and an Ipad. His walk was that of a relaxed country gentleman compared to a manual labourer and each step was determined by the veiled secret thoughts he had etched on his face.

The awkward silence between the couple was profoundly obvious. Although they were together she seemed to be in a marathon of her own with exception of the child she pushed in front of her. The pushchair, weighted down with a suitcase a shopping bag with various pieces of mother child necessities. Walking towards their destination. Weary from travelling; heat and hunger, he beckoned her to stop, putting down his rucksack at the side of the road, he took two bottles of water from it and two sandwiches and gave her one of each. She drank and ate sharing with the child, a thin pretty girl with the fairness of her father she was about four years old and wore shorts and a pink top; she also had a tight grip on a worn teddy bear. The woman, curvy with a striking beauty, had disillusionment written on her face, she had dark curly hair falling on slim shoulders and she was wearing dark slacks and a simple white tee shirt, a gold necklace around her neck and a wedding band adorned her third finger on the left hand.
They continued on their journey together but in an awkward silence. Sometimes brushing against each other but keeping apart.
She would look down on occasion and talk to the child trying to avoid a conversation with him.
He caught an occasional glimpse of the woman and as the sun hit her face he saw her eyelids and nostrils transparent and fire on her lips. His face closing the feelings that raged in his heart. Her purity torturing, his mind remembering better days when her smile would light up a room as she danced with an innocent joy and her laughter filled him with contentment like no other could.
A tall hedge shaded them briefly as they walked along sighting their destination. It was with great relief when the elderly lady greeted them and took them in to her home where they were given hot food a room and were able to bathe and rest. The window of the twin bedded room was fully open and the couple and child slept in sanctuary, exhausted and full, for the moment putting aside differences and leaving their reasons as to why they had left the city that had been home for so long, and coming to a place that would offer them a fresh start, perhaps here they could get rid of the ghosts between them, but, that would be tomorrow.