The vicar looked flummoxed.

‘I’ve known you a long time, Freddie,’ he said, ‘ever since you were a rebellious young boy at your father’s funeral. You’re obviously a deep thinker aren’t you?’

‘You still haven’t answered my question.’

‘Do you need an answer?’

Freddie didn’t want to fall out with the ‘Holy man’ who had just paid him twenty pounds and a lot of compliments. So he said pleasantly, ‘Not today. We’ll talk another time. I’ve gotta be on my way now.’

The vicar looked relieved. He disappeared into the church and Freddie strode down the path thinking about his next haulage job: collecting sacks of grain from a farm and delivering them to the mill. The stationmaster had caught him yesterday as he was driving out of the yard. ‘Two parcels arriving for you on the mid-morning train, Freddie. Can you be here?’

‘What are they?’ he’d asked.

‘I don’t know – but they’re from Lynesend. I would guess a truckle of cheese – or a salmon maybe?’ Charlie had winked at Freddie and rubbed his hands together. ‘Something that nice young lady has sent you, I would guess.’

It was mid-morning now, but he wanted to fetch the grain first. The parcels would wait, he thought, pausing at the gate of the church to listen to an unfamiliar bird-song, a plaintive warbling melody coming from somewhere in the churchyard. Intrigued, he searched the trees and a flash of gold caught his eye, in the rippling foliage of the black poplars. He stood motionless, watching, and the bright yellow bird flew down and perched on the wall right in front of him.

Freddie held his breath. A golden oriole. There in Monterose on the church wall. A rare sight, a rare visitor.

And then he remembered. Those words! Words given to him in the night, a long, long time ago.

‘When the golden bird returns, you will meet her again.’

From far away in the cutting through the hills came the shrill whistle of a train. The mid-morning train from Gloucestershire.

Freddie leapt over the church wall and ran down the road to the bakery, started his lorry and drove off, leaving Annie standing open-mouthed in the doorway. Freddie was a grown man now, a six-footer, slow moving and thoughtful. What could have caused him to run, and to rev his precious lorry like that?

Freddie’s heart was racing as he drove down Station Road, and he was cross with himself. Why was he being an idiot? Rushing about like that. Trusting a dream!

The train was already steaming into the platform. Freddie sat in the cab of the lorry, watching the gates, watching the passengers emerging, the young boys scurrying to carry luggage as he had done. He watched and searched for a little dark-haired beauty with the face of an angel. He waited and waited, but she didn’t come. Disappointment settled over him. He’d made a fool of himself.

Now the train was leaving, the passengers walking away up Station Road. Freddie saw Charlie pop his head round the gate and look over at him, with a thumbs-up sign. He sighed. Better go and collect the parcels, whatever they were.

He swung down from the cab and loped across to the entrance.

‘Here you are, Freddie. This is yours.’ Charlie led him up the platform to a trolley where a truckle of cheese sat, wrapped in a cloth. It had a label in Kate’s writing which said, ‘With love to Annie and Freddie, from the Loxley Family at Asan Farm’. It smelled heavenly, he thought, pleased. Annie would be thrilled. He lifted the trolley handle to wheel it out.

‘Don’t go without the other parcel,’ said Charlie who seemed to be bursting with some mysterious joke. ‘It’s here, in the waiting room. ’Tis a big ’un.’

‘Right.’

Freddie pushed open the varnished door. The room was empty except for a young woman who stood with her back to him looking at a poster on the wall. Her hair was shoulder length, thick and glossy, and she wore a summer dress with emerald greens and touches of red, and a velvet bottle-green jacket. She stood with her feet neatly together in smart black shoes and stockings with straight seams.

Freddie stood there, frozen, and the door creaked shut behind him. The young woman swung round, and the room filled with light.

‘Kate! My Kate!’

Freddie went to her quietly and stood basking in her smile. She was laughing.

‘How’s this for a parcel?’ She twirled around and stood still again, gazing up into his eyes. ‘It’s lovely to see you, Freddie. I’d forgotten how tall you are.’

‘You look – radiant,’ said Freddie, trying to detect the sadness in her eyes from losing Ethie. But he saw only sunlight and humour. ‘And very smart,’ he added, suddenly conscious of his own scruffy clothes covered in stone dust and oil. ‘I’m in me working clothes. I didn’t know you were coming.’

‘I LOVE surprises,’ said Kate. ‘And you look fine. You’re a working man, that’s something to be proud of. And guess what? I’m a working girl now. I’ve got a JOB, at Monterose Hospital. I’m going to train to be a NURSE.’

‘Oh well done. So, you’ll be living here then? Where are you going to live?’

‘In the nurses’ home. I’ll have my own room, and we get all our meals, and bed linen, and I shall make lots of friends. The matron’s a bit of a dragon, but we’ll get over that. I’m used to dragons. I’m looking forward to it.’

‘Well – I hope you don’t go all stiff and starchy,’ said Freddie with a twinkle in his eye, and listened in delight to the peal of ringing laughter, a sound he’d missed.

Charlie knocked on the window and peered in cheekily. ‘Told you it was a big ’un!’ he shouted. ‘Now I’m off to taste me cheese.’

‘Was he in on the secret?’ asked Freddie.

‘Yes,’ said Kate, ‘and I brought him a little round truckle of Mummy’s cheese in my bag. He was pleased as punch.’

She chattered on about her journey and the people she had made friends with on the train, and Freddie stood there in a hazy dream, breathing in the loveliness of her presence. It was like standing under a cherry tree in full blossom on a hot day, wrapped in its wordless glory. He imagined being married to her. It would be like being married to a piece of music, he thought, and the haunting song of the golden oriole came into his mind. He wanted to tell her about it – but first –

‘Kate – before we go any further, and I hope you understand what I mean, I need to ask you something.’

‘Go on, then.’ She smiled into his attentive blue eyes, concerned to see anxiety in there.

‘What about – Ian Tillerman?’

‘Oh him,’ said Kate contemptuously. ‘I’m afraid Ian is like a little boy. He went around telling everyone I was his fiancée, and he was lying. When I found out, I told him to go to Putney on a pig.’

Freddie laughed with her, feeling his troubles rolling away like barrels down a hillside.

‘Well now – I’ll tell you something, Kate,’ he said. ‘What do you think I saw this morning? A golden oriole!’

Her mouth fell open.

‘Well I never,’ she said.

‘I bet you don’t believe me.’

Kate looked at him, her eyes full of that searching, caring expression he loved. ‘I do believe you. I’ll always believe you, Freddie,’ she said emphatically. ‘I trust you utterly and completely.’

‘So – you won’t tell me to go to Putney on a pig then?’

‘No. Never,’ she said staunchly, and linked her arm into his. ‘Now, I want you to look at this poster with me. See? It says you can go to WEYMOUTH for a day trip. Shall we go one day? It would be lovely, Freddie. You wait ’til you see the sea.’

Freddie looked at her expectantly, waiting for the next bit, and he wasn’t disappointed.

‘It SPARKLES like DIAMONDS.’

He thought about the diamond ring in its box, hidden under the floorboard, and he could feel it sparkling, coming to life in the dark place. The magic is back, he thought, the magic is back in my life. I’m so lucky.

‘Of course we’ll go,’ he said. ‘We’ve got all the time in the world. And – I might even dig out that poetry book again.’