The Secrets Tree. A short story.

I want to take a break from the serious side of life for a moment, and so I present, The Secrets Tree.

The idea for this story came to me in the shower. I wanted to help someone with an example of how to show the passing of time, without stating the years that had passed. The tree grew in my mind, and life started happening around it. An hour later I had a first draft, and The Secrets Tree was born. I’m not sure I achieved my original objective, but I like the outcome. Let me know what you think in the comments section.

The Secrets Tree

On Beverly and Ron’s wedding day, her parents gave her a cutting from the willow tree that had grown beside the canal, two minutes walk from their home, for what felt like eternity. Beverly placed it in a terracotta pot, and it sat on the kitchen windowsill of her and Ron’s new home. It got a dribble of water each morning and heard snatches of conversation as the washing up got done at night.

When it was potted-on and moved to the greenhouse, Beverly started telling it her secrets. The time the electricity went off and she found the unposted cheque by candlelight, but told Ron it was the company’s error. The time she’d had the flu and polished Ron’s shoes with butter, much to the appreciation of the dog. The time she thought she might be pregnant, but didn’t know how Ron would feel.

One Saturday in March, when the sky was a crystal blue and the wind was biting, Beverly supervised Ron planting the tree by the river at the bottom of their garden. Beverly held her rounded belly as Ron worked. Sunday morning, she watered the tree and told it she didn’t know how to be a mother.

They tied a cherry-blossom pink ribbon around its slender trunk when Rhianna joined them in the world. George came a year and a half later and got a royal-blue flag. He was five when Ann joined them, and got a daffodil yellow ribbon. Ron had to climb a ladder to hang streamers of all different colours so Rhianna and George didn’t feel left out. That year, they invited the village for scones and a paper boat regatta.

The regatta became an annual affair with a hog-roast and plant sale. On Ann’s sixth birthday, she gave The Secrets Tree her tears when she realised the entire village weren’t attending her birthday, but rather the regatta.

The Secrets Tree saw first days at school, exam results that were good and bad, celebrations of degrees from prestigious and less prestigious universities, and had a horseshoe shaped marquee erected around it for Rhianna’s wedding, and then George’s too.

The year after Ann graduated, she sat with Beverly in the dappled shade under the tree. “It’s – it’s um. I’m scared Mum.” She gave the tree her tears once again while she found the strength to say, “The tumour is inoperable.”

They cried, and the tree accepted their fears. “Promise me Mum, you’ll look after yourself, and you won’t let Rhi boss you around.” Beverly promised, and the secret stayed between them and the tree, until it was time for the family to know.

The next year, on Ann’s birthday, the regatta became a charity event, £2 per paper boat, in aid of cancer research. The new family that had just moved to the village grumbled, until they found out why. There was still laughter, but the type that people blow their noses after. A blanket of sadness covered them all with a silence that stopped the rustling of the tree’s leaves, and a plaque was placed to mark where Ann’s ashes were now nestled between the roots of the tree.

For Beverly and Ron’s 40th anniversary, Frank, the local amateur carpenter, made a circular bench to wrap around The Secrets Tree. A new plaque, made of brass, was commissioned for Ann, and now Beverly and Ron’s parents too. It read, ‘Now you know all our secrets’.

One hot August evening, the tree hosted Ron’s retirement and their bon voyage party. They were going to India for an elephant safari, then on to Sri Lanka to see the temples “While we still have our health.”

After hearing there had been a big storm at home, Beverly rang Rhianna from the hotel in Mumbai. “I’m fine too, thanks, Mum,” Rhianna said, after answering and not hearing ‘Hello’ just, “How’s the tree?”

“It looks extra green don’t you think?” said Beverly one morning, sitting with Ron on the bench. He was reading the paper and dusted croissant crumbs onto its roots. The grandchildren scrambled over the bench and hid behind the gnarled trunk. “Their laughter is feeding it,” Ron said.

Years later the grandchildren would work on their summer homework under its boughs. And Ralph, age twelve, and the oldest grandchild, was well known for falling out of its branches. Then climbing back up to see if he could fall with more grace.

Three years after the Secrets Tree hosted a graduation party for Ralph, it was ready to host the next. But Beverly had a private meeting there instead, just her, the tree, and Ron. She wore the sari he’d got her in India, over some jeans and a jumper for warmth. The sapphire necklace they’d bought in Sri Lanka dangled in front of her as she lent forward to put his ashes beside Ann and their parents. “I still think we were conned, and this necklace is just blue glass,” she told him as she patted the earth smooth.

She would often be found sat there by friends from the village, her children, or the grandchildren when they weren’t busy starting families of their own. Rain or shine, summer or winter, she watched the river, sharing her secrets with the tree, and Ron. When someone approached she’d put on a smile for them.

One chilly October afternoon, Rhianna couldn’t find Beverly in the house, but she knew where she’d be. The question of whether to hold a ten-year memorial for Ron, combined with a 63rd wedding anniversary had been a subject of discussion between them. Her mother wore the old threadbare cardigan she just wouldn’t part with. “You’ll catch your death out here, Mum. You should have brought a blanket – Mum?”

Beverly sat, not staring, but with a smile on her face. Her funeral was held at the same village church she was married in and was standing room only, but it didn’t feel like a real goodbye until she was placed beside Ron under The Secrets Tree. The celebration of her life was supposed to be for family, but turned out to be as well attended as the funeral.

Local TV news cameras were at the charity regatta the next summer. The Secrets Tree Regatta was now being held at six locations around the south of England. The original secrets tree was adorned with black and white ribbons that danced in the breeze. A tear ran down Rhianna’s cheek and Aiden, her first grandchild, asked why? But a creak from above them became a crack, and Ralph, now grown and with a family of his own, came falling out the tree, still holding the branch that could no longer hold his weight.