Harry started early the next morning and Alice waited an hour before taking him a drink. When she saw the tree she was horrified. It was huge, easily the biggest tree on their land and it had fallen into a drainage gully that bordered their garden. The trunk was more than a foot thick and the tree must have once stood thirty feet tall. Harry had already sawn off several of the smaller branches and was leaning against the tree, sweating heavily. His hand trembled as he took the mug from Alice and drank thirstily.

'Thanks, love,' he gasped. 'I really needed that.'

'Oh, Harry!' was all she could say, shaking her head in despair.

A steely look crept into his eyes as he asked his wife to hunt out a candle to grease his saw blade.

***

By lunchtime, Harry had to give up, and he sat quietly in his favourite armchair for the rest of the day, but the next morning, he was hard at it again.

He managed to saw the trunk in half but couldn't carry on afterwards. Alice had to help him into the bath and she sat beside him as he told her how he intended to quarter the trunk and then prop each section up to saw it into logs of a practical size.

Alice suggested that he think about renting a chainsaw for a few days, but Harry said nonsense, it was just a matter of getting used to the work. He was using muscles he hadn't used for years. No wonder he was in so much pain.

***

Two days later Harry couldn't walk back to the house unaided. He leaned heavily on Alice and said he wanted to go straight to bed. 'A little siesta' was how he described it, but he slept right through to the next morning. Alice didn't know what to do for the best. She was sure that her husband would never give up on his task and that if she insisted it would only cause an argument, and then he would carry on anyway. Once Harry set himself a goal, Alice knew he wouldn't stop until it was accomplished. It was a matter of pride, and he refused to be beaten.

***

Another day went by and Harry decided to take an old chair to the tree so he could sit as he worked. When Alice took him a drink her heart sank as she watched him, labouring with both hands on the saw as he slowly forced it through the thick tree trunk. His metaphor of rowing the Atlantic was particularly apt, she thought, and he was obviously rowing against the current.

Harry was only able to work for a couple of hours each day before he was overcome with exhaustion. He grew paler and his breath seemed to tear from his chest. His hands were blistered, his back ached and he began suffering constant headaches. Alice considered calling the doctor, or even an ambulance, but knew that would only make him angry. She thought even Harry would give in soon.

***

A week passed with Harry sawing when he could, sleeping when he couldn't. His face became gaunt and he visibly lost weight. When Alice mentioned it, he just smiled wanly and told her he was getting fitter by the day. To Alice, he seemed to be wasting away before her eyes. But, at the end of that week, Harry staggered into the house and triumphantly announced that he had done it. He had sawed the entire tree into logs. Alice nearly cried with relief and told him he should stay in bed the next day or he would be ill. Harry promised he would ... as soon as he had transported all the wood up to the house and stacked it in the woodshed outside the kitchen door.