With the sawing finished, Harry's spirits were high as he prepared to move the logs. He deemed his wheelbarrow unsuitable for the job and decided to use an old handcart. The only problem was, he would have to pull the cart up a steep slope from the gully where the tree had fallen, and the ground was soft and muddy. Harry christened this challenge 'climbing Everest'.

His first attempt at pulling the cart up the slope was a failure. Even with it only half full, he slipped and slid and couldn't get it to the top. He sat on the cart and accepted a cup of tea from Alice.

'Why don't you ask that boy down the road to bring the logs up?' Alice said, 'he'd be glad of some pocket money.'

'What ... after all the hard work's been done?' Harry snorted. 'No love, I'm already at base camp and I'm going for the summit. All I need is a length of rope.'

***

The next time Alice saw Harry he really did look like a mountaineer. He had tied the rope around his waist and was dragging the handcart, tethered behind him, out of the gully. Alice rushed to help him pull but he waved her away saying she might hurt herself. He made it to the house and sat down to rest, telling her that this method was much easier. He just needed a padded jacket to cushion the rope. With frequent rests and the cart only half-filled, Harry slogged away for hour after hour and the woodpile began to grow. Alice was still worried but at least he was being sensible and taking his time. Then, watching TV during breakfast one morning, Harry saw that torrential rain was forecast for that night.

'Right,' he declared, leaving his toast uneaten, 'the rest of that wood needs to be under cover before the rain.'

***

A little later Alice almost burst into tears when she glanced out of the window and saw her husband bent double, straining to pull the fully laden cart up the incline. She ran out and offered to help. Harry couldn't speak and his eyes bulged in his drawn face. He shook his head when she tried to help and had to watch helplessly as her husband ground on towards the house. Harry refused a drink but asked Alice to fetch his walking stick instead, gasping that he would use it to help get up the slope.

***

Harry laboured on through the day using both hands on the walking stick to inch his way, step by painful step, towards the woodshed. The stack of logs grew ever higher as dark thunderclouds formed overhead. By the early evening, he was completely exhausted and in agony but there was only one more load to haul. The final assault on the summit, he rasped.

The first rumbles of thunder shook the ground as Harry made the final journey up his Everest. Alice watched with tears of pride and concern rolling down her cheeks. Splashes of rain began to fall as he reached the top of the slope and he slipped on the damp grass. Alice went to help him up and this time he didn't wave her away.

'Nearly there, love, get the flag ready to plant on the top.'

Harry crawled the remaining yards on his hands and knees with his wife's assistance and she untied the rope from around his waist as he lay gasping against the huge pile of firewood. He patted the logs weakly and smiled.

'Enough to keep you warm for the whole of the winter,' he whispered, and his face lit up as Alice's tears fell with the rain on his pain creased face. Alice cradled him the best she could as he clutched at his heaving chest, his eyes growing misty as he gazed up at her lovingly.

'Why have you done this to yourself, you silly man?' Alice wept, as she sensed his life ebbing away.

'Don't be angry with me, love, there's a letter in my desk drawer that will explain everything.'

Harry's breath was coming in short painful bursts and Alice knew it was already too late to call an ambulance.

'It was always my ambition you know ... to climb Everest.'

'I know, my darling, and you did it.'