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A bitter sweet love story

An excerpt below

"Damn," Darren cried aloud when he stopped the motorbike in frustration and realized what he'd suspected for the last twenty minutes. He'd taken the wrong turn.

He rode along slowly, looking for somewhere to camp, when in the fading light he noticed the cottage by the river. He traversed the little used track leading to the building. Getting off the bike, he stood for a moment outside the broken gate, staring at the small garden enclosed by a tumbledown fence. The grass grew thickly as it tried to smother the sprawling lavender bush and straggling red geraniums. Pushing open the gate, he went along the stone path and up the few wooden steps and knocked on the weather beaten door. When no one answered, he tried the door handle. It opened protesting. "Is anyone home?" he called a couple of times.

The room was sparsely furnished with a wooden table and several chairs pushed into it. Against the opposite wall was an open stone fireplace. Beside it was a small stack of wood.

He called again but no one answered. The place looked deserted.