Davie the Grasscutter

I'm not sure exactly when it started. Maybe I was 8 or 9. At the end of the back garden, was a wire fence (great for climbing over !) and then a steep grass verge, up onto the red gravel ('red blaze') football pitches, with the Secondary School behind. The School which I was going to go to, in a few years time, once I'd gone through the rest of Primary School. On one of the occasions where friends and I were playing 'footie' during the summer holidays, we got talking to Davie the Grasscutter. I can only assume he worked for the council or something, employed to keep the lawns, verges etc neat and tidy for the School authorities. But Davie wasn't any old Grasscutter. We'd listen to his stories, the people he'd known, the Bands he'd been to see, the Football players he'd met, the places he'd seen, strange fascinating foreign climes.
Davie was a bit of a hero. He'd regale us impressionable lads with his stories while he scoffed on his sandwiches, with this dangerous looking monolithic green scary machine by his side, the tools of his trade.
Years passed, until I was one of those Secondary School kids.
I was about 13, and coming back home from another footie session of '11 Byes' (long story), I made my way down the verge to head homeward. And there was Davie. I greeted him like a heroic old friend, having not seen him for so long. I was a grown up now of course (well, I thought so, naturally). He had more stories. I even had some of my own.
I told him about my new love (slight exaggeration, but it seemed cool) who was Heather, who lived a few doors along from me. I was 13, and she was 12. She was the object of my affections, and I told Davie that Heather would indeed be mine, and he pretended to believe me.
It was brilliant.
At this point, we caught up on what everyone had been up to in the years that had passed since we all had seen Davie last. I vaguely remember him telling me about being at his Daughter's wedding, and of course, some more exotic trips abroad. As I said before, Davie was cool.
At this point, he asked me Heathers full name, as he wanted to know her initals, and asked me to point out her house to him, which I did. We were yards away from it anyway. "Ok, follow me", he said. So, I did, and we went up the verge, crossed over the footie pitch to where the Tennis courts began, to the line of trees that ran alongside the back. He took out a knife, and carved, rather fantastically, mine and Heather's initials deep into the bark, with a heart motif around it.
'Now, you bring her up here and show her that" he challenged.

Sadly, I don't think I ever did. But I wish I had.
As I said, Davie was cool.