‘Fine day for it, Harry.’
     ‘Aye, it has that,’ I said as I finished putting in the dozen freshly laid eggs in the box, ‘what brings you out here then, Marc?’
     ‘All this country air making you forgetful, Harry?  I've brought you out a copy of your revised will you asked for. ’
     ‘Oh aye, that's right.’
     ‘How’s the new bride coping…getting on ok without the hustle and bustle of the city?’
     ‘Oh she‘s doing fine, just fine,’ I said.
     ‘Well it was a pretty straightforward procedure etc…are you sure this is what you want though?’ Marc asked quietly.
     ‘Oh aye…I mean the fresh air is only going to do me so good,’ I said, ‘no sense Hope struggling after I’m gone.’
     ‘Well if you're sure?’
     ‘Aye, I am that,’ I said, ‘can I interest you in some freshly laid eggs?’
     ‘Why not.’
      Leaving my dozen eggs, I looked at my kitchen window framed with climbing Honeysuckle and saw Hope watching us.
     ‘I’ve only got a half dozen to spare I’m afraid,’ I said as I ambled back.
     ‘That’s fine, Harry’, he said turning to leave, ‘remember, I’m only a phone call away if you need me.’
     ‘Thanks again for all your help…you take care, ok.’
     ‘You too, Harry, you too.’
     I shook his outstretched hand and noticed he was shaking. 
     ‘Scrambled eggs on toast,’ I said to my favourite hen Jemmy as she scuttled past me, ‘the perfect way to end a hard day in the garden.’
     The adjacent field of oil seed rape swayed gently in time to the setting of the sun.  Hope was no longer watching.
     Inside the kitchen, the air was cool as I unhooked a pot from above the wood burning stove.
     ‘What was he wanting?’ Hope, my wife asked.
     ‘Who else?’
     ‘He was just dropping off the revised will,’ I said as I opened up the box.
     I stopped dead.
     ‘Oh that’s fine,’ she said, ‘ok well I’m going to head out for a bit…everything is definitely ok with the will then?’
     The kitchen suddenly felt ice cold.
     ‘Are you ok?’ she asked.
     ‘Fine,’ I said snapping to attention.
     ‘Ok, well if you’re sure,’ she said as she lightly pecked me on my silvery, stubble coated cheek.
     As she left, I stared at the dozen eggs revealed before me.  On each egg was a quickly scrawled letter, it spelt, BEWAREOFHOPE.