One dark night

The sound of the back door slamming made Maisie jump. She had been lost in thought looking at all the packing cases. How easily a life could be packed up and labelled, yet how hard it was to do. She went to the kitchen to see if it was the removal men who had come back. Her son was standing on a crate and pushing a broom along the top of the cupboards.

' I didn't know you were still here Dan. You'd better be off, it looks like snow. Were you looking for something ?'

' Do you remember that baseball bat that grandpa brought me back from Boston? I can't find it anywhere.'

Maisie giggled. 'Of course I do, he was so proud of it. It used to be in the passage next to his old boots. Do you remember when those drunken lads came up from the town looking for trouble and he bashed it against the front door yelling at them, and how they ran off so scared thinking there was a whole army in here? You painted a scary face on it.'

Dan and Maisie laughed at the memory. Dan got off the crate and put his arm round his mother.

'He was never scared of anything Grandpa.'
There was a catch in his voice.
' That's why I wanted the baseball bat, I thought it would be a sort of talisman.'

Maisie hugged him, 'I'll have another look before I leave, you'd better be off now, Fiona will be waiting for you. Please thank her for the invitation for lunch tomorrow.'

They walked to the front door and Dan picked up his coat. His footsteps echoed around the empty house.

'Are you sure you'll be alright here on your own? The signal here is terrible and the landline has been cut off. It's blowing up a storm too.'

'I'll be fine Dan. Do you remember when we first came to live here? What funny noises all night long.  At least we had Rufus then. Dogs are supposed to see ghosts and so I knew that if he was sleeping peacefully there were none around.'

Dan laughed, 'We thought we were so lucky moving to this house, let's hope the new family will be as happy as we were.'

He stopped and put his hand on Maisie's arm.

'Sorry mum, that was tactless, but we were happy, we really were, never have doubts about that.'

Maisie had turned away to hide her tears, but when she turned back her face was lit up with her usual cheerful grin.

''Thanks for saying that Dan, I tried to be a good daughter, wife and mother, but life has surprises for us all.'

As Dan's car disappeared down the drive Maisie shivered and went inside suddenly aware of the cold.

It was dark and she saw a few snowflakes flutter towards her. The wind was getting up and the trees looked stark and gloomy. She checked all the doors were locked and went upstairs to bed. The removal men would be along first thing and she wanted to be ready for them.

Dan had tried to persuade her to go and stay with him and Fiona but she had been adamant. She wanted one last night in the house that she had loved so much, where she  had been so happy bringing up Dan. She'd always thought Paul was happy too. Maybe he was until he met Annie. She felt sick when she thought of them together.

Everything seemed to go wrong at once. Dan left home, her parents grew old and died and her husband went off with a younger woman. All her friends were telling her to move on and get on with her life, turn the page and walk on. Maisie couldn't see her life like that. She saw it as a rich mosaic, some of the pieces were fragile and chipped, some grey and dull but others were bright and shiny, together it was her life and precious.

Maisie turned out the lights and stood at the window. On nights like this her mother had liked telling spooky stories, her favourite one being, 'One dark night a band of robbers sat round a camp fire and the leader said 'Simon stand up and tell us a story.'

It was a shaggy dog story and her mother loved the effect it had on Maisie making her giggle and squirm with fright at the same time.

As Maisie snuggled down in the sleeping bag on the makeshift bed that she'd prepared she heard a crash from downstairs. Her heart thumped loudly and she felt her blood go cold. Fear flooded through her as she realized just how isolated she was. Her neighbours were away for Christmas and the lane was dark and quiet. The removal men had been working all day and anyone could have seen that the house was empty.


The security lights outside went on lighting up the room. Maisie breathed slowly and deliberately to try and stay calm. Paul had always shrugged and gone back to sleep when the outside lights came on convinced it was just a cat or a fox trotting by, but she was on her own now and rigid with fear. She crept to the window on all fours and peered outside being careful not to be seen. The snow was falling thicker now. Her heart beat faster as she heard voices. She grappled for her phone and felt sick with fright as she saw the blank screen.

There was a crash of glass and a heavy tread, then muffled voices.

Maisie thought desperately for somewhere to hide. There was no furniture left in the bedroom, just the packing cases and crates. She tried to hold her breath as she heard the bottom stair creak and tried to remember all the tips she could from scary films. Should she pretend to be asleep or plead for mercy?

The bedroom door was being pushed open, dragging on the thick carpet. Maisie bit hard on her pillow to stop herself  from screaming. Just as she saw a foot come in the door there was a noise like thunder, a roar and then swearing and shouting. Something very hard was being thrown against the wall and there was a cry of pain, then the footsteps were running away and there was a thud, then silence.

Then came the noise of a car screeching into the drive and she became aware of the comforting sight of a flashing blue light.

Now the noise of someone running upstairs was a relief and she started to sob. A man in uniform came towards her and held out his hand. Shaking all over she tried to grasp it.

The policeman smiled at her.

'You're safe now. We came as soon as we got the call, strange, because there's no signal at all. Lucky that you had the baseball bat, that scared the heck out of them, it'll take them awhile to get rid of those bumps and bruises. We've been after those two for ages. At last we'r caught them red-handed.'

For the first time Maisie noticed the policeman was holding the baseball bat from Boston, with surprise she thought the scary face had gone and now seemed like it was smiling at her.

She took the policeman's hand and let him lead her to the waiting car, wrap her in a blanket and hand her a cup of something hot and strong.

It was then that she noticed in the snow, what looked like the footprints of her father's old boots and as she leaned back in the seat her tears began to flow mixing with the snowflakes that had settled on her hair.

Tales from Greta's Health Store. 3

The door slammed behind her and she heard the Indian chimes jangle frantically. Greta tensed up, annoyed with herself. Why did she always seem so loud and brash? Her father's words echoed in her head even after all these years. He was always telling her to slow down, not to be so gushing and to be more lady like.

At the beginning Fergus had seen her differently, calling her his silver mountain stream. As they lay on the wet grass outside his croft counting the stars he would roll on top of her and call her his passport to happiness, his source of bubbling joy.
It wasn't long though that he seemed to find her annoying. All the qualities that had drawn him to her turned against her. Whereas once he had rejoiced in her spontaneous attitude to life he now seemed irritated by her all the time. She was too messy, her cooking skills needed improving, she wore too much make-up, her clothes were too flamboyant, she laughed at inappropriate moments.

Greta sighed and pulled her jacket tighter against the cold wind. She wished she'd brought her gloves and scarf. She shivered and walked faster towards the caffe.
Greta looked again at the text on her phone and her heart leaped. She had told Jemma that she was meeting her friend Gabrielle. It would have been too complicated to have told her the truth. Then she had seen Hattie come in and cringed with embarrassment and rushed out of the door to avoid her. Greta knew she had overdone it a bit with Hattie, given her a long list of things to take, It's just that she had reminded her so much of the state she herself had been in when Fergus said he needed space.

The Truth Will Out

In Jo's family no-one had ever believed in keeping secrets. Her mother, a down-to-earth farmer's daughter from Durham was always repeating sayings that had been handed down the generations. She would look at Jo with a stern expression and come out with what she considered to be the most appropriate saying from her vast repertoire, her favourite one being, 'you'll get wrong Jo'.

Jo's father, an English teacher at the local school, liked quoting Shakespeare. All he needed to do when Jo was trying to hide some misdemeanour was raise an eyebrow and intone', 'The truth will out,' or 'Oh what a tangled web we weave'. This was enough to reduce Jo to a tearful confession.

Little did her parents know that in spite of all the importance put on telling the truth in their family Jo had managed to keep a secret from them for over eighteen years.

Jo looked across at her daughter Chloe who was busy tapping on her iPhone and swinging her legs in time to the music on her iPlayer.  She looked up at her mother and gave one of her most disarming grins.

Jo's heart flipped at the memory of that night at the school disco, so many years ago.

Sally, her best friend, had been going out with Brendan for six months, but she'd confided in Jo that really she fancied Hugo but didn't want to upset Brendan so near the A levels. At the disco Sally had disappeared and so had  Hugo.

Jo had been standing near Brendan when the The Bangles started and for a laugh she had looked him in the eye and sang along with the first few lines, 'Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling'. What happened next was still a whirl of intense feelings and irresistible passion. The next day at school she hadn't known what to do. Sally was convinced he needed her to get through his exams and Jo felt so guilty for what she'd done. Brendan ignored her at school and she felt ashamed and humiliated.

After A levels they all went their separate ways. Jo moved with her parents to Devon and in September started an apprenticeship with an accountant firm. When she could no longer hide her pregnancy from them she told them it was the result of her holiday romance in Majorca, celebrating the end of school. Her parents admired her courage in being so open with them, and stood firmly by her. They adored little Chloe and looked after her while Jo finished her training.

Now here they were on their way to meet up with Sally and her son Hector. Jo's heart had stood still through Chloe's phone call, her voice full of excitement.

'Guess what mum, I've met the son of one of your school friends. We discovered that you went to the same school and are the same age. Do you remember Sally Browning? She remembers you and wants to meet up'.

The train lurched into the station and Jo instinctively flung her arm in front of Chloe.
She turned and smiled at her daughter and tried to make her voice cheerful. Inside she felt sick. Today was the day she could break her daughter's heart.

'Here we are Chloe, I wonder if they'll be waiting for us.'

Chloe stood up and took her earphones out and tossed back her long blond hair. Jo could hear the thump of the music. It sounded awful to her and she smiled at the memory of her father shouting up the stairs to her to turn her music down.

'Of course they will Mum, Hector's just sent me a text. They're on the platform.'

Even though it was almost 20 years since they'd last met, Jo spotted Sally straight away. Tall and slender with the poise of a ballerina. A tall young man was standing next to her but when he caught sight of them he ran to Chloe and twirled her round and caught her in a bear hug.
Sally strode towards Jo with a huge grin and her arms outstretched.

'Jo I can't believe it, after all these years. If only we'd had Facebook we would probably have kept in touch. In those days once we'd left school we all went our separate ways. Isn't it amazing that Hector and Chloe have got to know each other through uni.  He talks about her all the time. It must be fate. I've booked a table for lunch, so we can catch up. Oh it's so good to see you. I've told Brendan and he's going to join us for coffee.'

Jo felt her heart beat faster and she felt dizzy. She felt her face grow hot at the mention of Brendan's name. As they walked towards the restaurant Sally kept up a stream of constant chatter and seemed not to notice Jo's discomfort. Hector and Chloe were walking ahead arm in arm. She felt sick about the secret she would have to reveal to her daughter.

While they were ordering their meal Jo tried to study Hector's face for a likeness. Chloe had long dark blond hair while his was more fair. He had Sally's dark brown eyes, Chloe's were light blue like Jo's father's. She realized Sally was looking at her and had asked her a question.

'Sorry Sally I was miles away.'

'I was just asking if you believe in fate? I mean look at us. At school we were in the same class because we were born in the same month, and we sat next to each other because of our surnames, Sally Browning and Joanna Browne with an 'e',  then we left school and went away and then got pregnant at the same time and now our kids have met up and it looks like something's brewing there. Gosh Jo your daughter's so pretty, just like you. Hector takes after my father-in-law, he was a real heart throb.'

She winked at Jo and giggled.

Something didn't sound right to Jo. She couldn't remember Brendan's dad being a heart throb.

Their pasta arrived and the waiter poured them all a glass of wine. Sally raised her glass,

'A toast to old friends and new beginnings.'

Hector and Chloe smiled at her.
When they'd finished their meal Hector stood up and held out his hand to Chloe.

'Mum, Jo, I'm going to take Chloe on the sightseeing bus. She wants to see the prison that is now a hotel. Dad might meet us and show Chloe the museum.'

'Funny how we  were so different , yet so similar too. You were the quiet one that gave out wise advice  I was the responsible one, form rep for seven years, ugh.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. There was a pause and then Sally took a deep breath.

'Look Jo before Brendan arrives there's something I want to say. I should have said it years ago. It's a secret that's been weighing on my heart.'

Jo looked up from her plate of untouched pasta, her eyes full of tears, Sally knew. She had always known. Jo tried to look her in the eye, and was surprised to see that Sally's eyes were also full of tears.

Sally had gone bright red and Jo put out her hand to touch her on the arm.

Sally looked down at her lap and when she spoke her voice was a whisper.

'At the school disco I had a one night stand with Hugo. I know you'll hate me now but I've got to tell you. I was so unsure about his feelings for me that I kept poor Brendan hanging on in case, even though I knew in my heart that he preferred you. Then school finished and  you moved away and we lost touch.'

Sally bent her head and Jo could see the tears dropping fast.

'You probably won't believe me but I'm so sorry and all these years I've felt I didn't deserve to be happy with Hugo and so I tried extra hard to be a good wife and mother to make up for it.'

There was a pause as Sally wiped away the tears and blew her nose.

'Then when hector told Hugo that he'd met Chloe and her mum was Joanna Browne with an e, and she didn't have a dad, I thought life was giving me a chance to put things right. Hugo got in touch with Brendan through the old boys club and found out he was divorced and living nearby. It was like fate.'

She looked up then and saw that Jo was grinning at her. Her eyes opened wide in amazement. She reached out to touch her friend gently on the shoulder.

'So you married Hugo, Sally. That's wonderful, I'm very happy for you. '

Sally stood up and rushed round to hug Jo.

'Oh Jo you're not angry with me? I felt I'd ruined your life.'

The door of the restaurant opened and they both looked up to see Brendan walk in. His fair hair was thinner on top and he had a slight stoop but Jo's heart leaped at the sight of him and all she could think about was the hot thrill of passion of that night at the school disco.

Jo stood up and then said quietly to Sally: 'You haven't ruined my life, Sally. You are giving me a second chance and it must have taken you a lot of courage to say those things.  I'm glad for you and Hugo.'

Sally watched as Brendan walked towards Jo and saw the way he smiled at her.
A heavy weight lifted from her heart and she felt relief flood through her, mixed with regret for all those years that could have been quite different for them.


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It was the beginning of December and Oxford was decorated for the holidays. Christmas music rang out from loud speakers and the buskers were out in force.
Sally and Hugo were sitting in the restaurant waiting for Brendan and Jo. There was a crowd of students sitting at the table next to them wearing red hats or reindeer ear muffs. The tree in the corner sparkled and shone and there was a festive air of anticipation.
Sally looked across at her husband.

' Oh to be young again Hugo and do things differently.'  A tear slid down her cheek.

Hugo poured out two glasses of Prosecco and handed one to her.

'Come on Sally, everything is turning out for the best now. Chloe is happy as can be, loves her new- found dad, Brendan is going to Jo's parents' for Christmas. Stop punishing yourself.'

 He raised his glass,

'Here's to new beginnings, and by the way I love you, '

The young people at the next table burst into a chorus of Jingle Bells just as Jo and Brendan walked in.

Hugo poured out two more glasses of Prosecco  and  motioned to them to sit down.

'We were just toasting to new beginnings. ',

They all raised their glasses and then Jo touched Sally's glass with her own.

'It's good to have found you again Sally. Thank you for bringing me and Brendan together.' She handed her a small box. 'This is an early Christmas present.'

As Sally unwrapped the gift  she felt her world tip on its' axis and start to right itself.

She took out a small charm bracelet with a silver heart and a key. She looked up at Jo and the two women held each others' gaze and smiled.

'Every year we'll meet here in this restaurant and add another charm. This year we have unlocked secrets and found love, who knows what next year will bring.'

Just then the door to the restaurant flew open. Chloe and Hector came in and rushed over to the table. Chloe kissed Brendan, then her mother and brushed some snow off her coat.

'It's freezing, I think we're going to have a white Christmas, hooray!'

A Tribute to Roses

Roses are arguably the most popular of flowers exalted for their scent and beauty. The red rose is the symbol of love and what woman doesn't go weak at the knees when presented with a red rose from her companion.

Roses have been movingly portrayed in paintings and literature for centuries.

From Shakespeare writing in Romeo and Juliet

'What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet' there are hundreds of quotations from which to choose.

Here are a few of my favourites

Won't you come into the garden?

I would like my rose to meet you.

Richard Brinsley Sheridan

On Richmond Hill there lived a lass

More bright than May-day morn,

Whose smiles all other maids surpass,

A rose without a thorn.

Leonard McNally

The lily has an air,

And the snowdrop a grace,

And the sweet pea a way,

And the heart's ease a face, -

Yet there's nothing like the rose

When she blows.

Christina G. Rossetti

Rose trees either side the door were

Growing lithe and growing tall,

Each one set a summer warder

For the keeping of the hall, -

With a red rose and a white rose

Leaning, nodding at the wall.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

A Circle of Trust

The Circus band struck up the open notes of the parade and the ringmaster signalled for the elephant to enter. The crowd fell silent as the lights swept over them and then burst into applause as they saw the majestic animal wave his trunk at them. Tatiana his trainer sat high up on his back bowing and smiling broadly. every so often she leant down and whispered in his ear and gave him a pat.

Oksana waited until the ringmaster Alfonso nodded at her and the other trapeze artists to follow.  She threw herself into a double somersault followed by a succession of cartwheels and spins. The applause grew louder and she straightened up and looked at the faces before her.

 A little girl in the front row was gazing at her with admiration, a woman that might have been her grandmother was holding on to her and stroking her long blonde hair. For a moment Oksana felt bile rise in her throat. Her grandmother had stroked her hair too, repeating how Oksana was her lucky princess and would bring her fortune. She repeated it to all the people in the village.Even as she handed Oksana over to the men and counting out the money she was still repeating it.

The little boy next to them was bouncing up and down and pointing at the horses and the zebras.  A man came and sat beside them holding large sticks of candy floss. As he handed them over Oksana saw the glint of his wedding ring in the spotlights  that swept over the audience. She felt sick and quickly moved on, diving into one of her graceful somersaults.
A hand grabbed hers and she turned. It was Cosmin. He held her hands aloft and presented her with a sweep of his arm. Together they finished the circuit and  danced their way out of the ring.

' Brava Oksana! You did it! you are a star. they loved you! Did you see how the little girls were looking at you.'

Oksana threw her arms round his neck.

'Thank you Cosmin but the worst is still to come.'

'I'll be there Oksana just keep your eyes on my hands, trust me.'

They moved to the side and watched the ringmaster to give them their cue.
Priscilla and Elvis the clowns were busy squirting water onto the children, producing bunches of flowers from the little boys' ears and pretending to fall over with their big flat feet. The sound of laughter grew louder and louder and the artistes waiting in the wings began to relax and smile at each other in encouragement.
After the clowns it was the turn of the horses. They were a magnificent sight with their plumed head gear and  plaited tails, their riders performing daring feats in time to the circus band.
After the horses the ringmaster signalled to Cosmin and Oksana.
 There was a hush in the ring. The lights dimmed and the spotlight shone on Oksana standing on her trapeze at the top of the tent.
She looked down at the faces turned towards her. She could make out the little girl with her grandmother.  They were looking at her with trust and expectancy and sheer admiration.
 Oksana had forgotten what it was like to trust someone and now Cosmin was teaching her.
 Here in the circus there must be complete trust he continued to tell her. You must trust the ones who tighten the ropes, erect the tent and all the other equipment, the electricians who prepare the lights, the lion tamers and all the ones looking after the animals. Without trust the circus would cease to exist.

Oksana became aware that Alfonso the Ringmaster was introducing their act.
His voice boomed out across the ring and the audience went very quiet.

'For the first time we have Oksana and Cosmin. Trapeze artistes per eccellenza Oksana will perform the triple somersault. I ask you to be completely silent.'

There was a roll of drums. the spotlight shone . She looked across at Cosmin. He was rubbing powder on to his hands. She focussed on them. She took a deep breath and then launched herself into the air. As she flew across to Cosmin it seemed the past was falling behind her, leaving her, she felt renewed, she felt strong and graceful. She knew she would find Cosmin's hands even with her eyes closed. She span round, once, twice, three times and stretched out her arms. Cosmin's hands grasped hers, strong, warm and firm. She was safe. Together they swung through the air holding hands and did a double somersault down onto the safety net. The applause was deafening. people were standing up, clapping and cheering. Alfonso beamed and went to join them.

Tears came to Oksana's eyes, she felt the ice melting from around her heart. She gripped Cosmin's hand and then turned to kiss him.
 She heard the little girl's voice
'Look Nanna, they're in love, I knew they were, she kissed him.'

She turned towards them and blew them a kiss, she hesitated and  then ran across and gave the little girl one of the ribbons from her  costume.

Cosmin took her hand and they left the ring to the sound of the band.

Later that night when the circus was quiet and there was only the sound of the animals scuffling in their cages, Cosmin lay awake beside Oksana. He looked at her lovely sleeping face and caressed her cheek. She would never know how much he had paid  the nightclub owner but now she was his wife at last, and he would make sure that she always trusted him.

Tales from Greta's Health food Store, Jemma

The Health Food store was usually quiet on Mondays and Greta had left Jemma in charge for an hour while she went for coffee with her friend Gabrielle in the new Italian caffe. She'd grabbed her bag and new emerald green fake fur coat, taken Jemma in a bear hug and flown out of the door, blowing kisses over her shoulder and calling out to Jemma, ' Hold the fort Jems, Gabrielle's got a crisis, man trouble again, won't be long.'
The door slammed and all the little Indian charms hanging on the door clanged merrily, sunlight  shining on the crystal baubles threw rainbows dancing across the large bay window.
Jemma waved and smiled at her aunt's flambuoyant exit then went to sit on the stool behind the counter. She held her hands out in front of her and spread her fingers wide, then she clenched her fists and opened them again. She felt the power flow into them. Her nails were pink and shiny but a bit ragged where she'd chewed them.

It was Greta that had first told Jemma she had healing hands. They had been walking along the busy High Street of their little west country town, Jemma had been about three.

'Hold my hand tight Jemma please,'

Greta had bent down to take Jemma's little hand firmly in her grasp just as she was about to run across the road.

'Your hands have magic in them and when I hold your hand I feel happy.'

Jemma had  laughed with delight and held on to Greta's hand tightly.

When they'd gone home she had run to her mother to tell her about her magic hands and her mother had swung her into the air and kissed her saying that Auntie Greta was absolutely right about that.

The Indian charms on the door jingled softly and Jemma looked up to see a middle aged  woman walk in and look around her with an expectant air, clutching a piece of  paper. An elderly man came in right behind her and Jemma felt her heart lurch as she saw the way the man's face lit up at the sight of the woman.
She took out her nail file and  brushed her hair forward over her face so she could observe them discreetly.
For a long time Jemma had wanted to be a writer when she grew up, she'd always loved reading and weaving stories around all her dolls and teddies and then later the other girls at school and the neighbours. Then when the time came to choose her A levels the teachers had told her parents that she should study science, that her Biology and Chemistry results were in a class of their own.
Just as she was half way through her course her father decided to go and start another family with the secretary from the gym where he had developed more than just a passion for body building. Her mother had gone to pieces and Jemma would get home from school to find her still in bed, dirty dishes in the sink and the air heavy with cigarette smoke and alcohol fumes.  Jemma  started hanging around in the town after school and forgetting to do her homework.

Then Auntie Greta had come back into their lives. She'd been living up in Scotland on an island with a Scotsman who was helping her write a book and they hadn't seen her for years. One day Jemma came home from school to find the house clean and fresh, her mother sitting in the garden with her hair washed and dressed in clean clothes. Auntie Greta was sitting beside her and they both laughed and called out to her when she appeared.

'Oh Jemma, you'll never guess1 Auntie Greta is going to open a health Food Shop in the new shopping centre in the town. It's all arranged. She's going to stay with us while she looks for a place of her own. Isn't it wonderful.'

Jemma had gone back into the house to hide the tears that were streaming down her face. When she'd composed herself she'd made them all a cup of tea and then gone back out to hug them both and tell Auntie Greta she was very happy to see her again.

After that her mother Susan went back to teaching at the local Secondary school. Auntie Greta got back in touch with lots of her old friends  and soon her shop was up and running.  It turned out that she had  done lots of courses on alternative medicine, mindfulness and aromatherapy. She set up a studio above the shop and soon had a long list of clients.
One evening the three of them were sitting in the garden and Jemma told them she had to decide what to do at university. Greta had been gabbling away telling them all about her new venture, she went very quiet and spoke softly,

'I always regret not having studied more Jemma. When you're young you often don't realize how short a time you have to decide your future. What about aiming high and studying to be a doctor.'

Susan looked at her daughter and took her hand,

'Auntie Greta's right Jemma, now's the time to study. You'd make a terrific doctor, and don't you remember, you've got magic hands, you could be a surgeon.'

Greta laughed' Oh definitely you've got magic hands Jems. tell you what you could come and do work experience in my Health food Shop. It might not be proper medicine but it's all about prevention and helping people find a healthy balance in their lives.'

She took Jemma's hands in hers

'You've still got the magic Jems.'

Susan looked at her sister and there were tears in her eyes.

'I think Jemma takes after her Auntie Greta.'

Jemma took her mother's hand and the three of them sat there in the fading sunlight. Each felt a strength and a comfort flow between them, each made a silent vow to protect and care for the other. Jemma couldn't wait to tell her teachers what she had decided to do.

Shops that work magic, Tales from Greta's Health Food Store

The moment Hattie entered the new Health food shop she felt ten years old again. She'd always had an evocative memory, one whiff of a satchel and she was back in a gym slip.

The shop was laid out just like Cartwright's the corner shop, where she grew up. So many enticing bottles and colours everywhere, and rich inviting aromas. Back then it had been the sweets that caught her attention. She'd go into Cartwright's with her pocket money, a three penny bit and count out all the sweets she could buy. Shrimps, Flying Saucers, Liquorice strings, sherbet lemons, toffee crunch. Sometimes she would save up for two weeks and then with a sixpence she could buy a whole bar of chocolate. That shop had smelled of magic to Hattie.

 Her weekly trips to the sweet shop had seemed like a magic kingdom comforting her when her brother left home, when she discovered that her mother had a serious illness, when her best friend emigrated to Australia. A feeling of loneliness had crept around her heart and had never gone away. Yes she thought, the sweet shop had saved her.

 Hattie breathed in the smell of the Health Food shop. Her hypersensitive nose could pick out lavender, sage, orange and eucalyptus. Maybe she would find some magic here. There were big shiny posters placed around the shop with photos of beautiful slim women and happy middle-aged couples, all clutching big jars of herbs, minerals and vitamins, pink and blue pills.

Hattie read the list that the alternative health practitioner Greta, had given her. At first glance it looked like any other shopping list, cinnamon, cranberry, beetroot but then there was copper, zinc, chrome and magnesium, Melissa, valeriana and passiflora. Greta said that Hattie had lacked sweetness in her life, she'd never had enough affection and that explained her craving for sweet things.

Every time Hattie went to her doctor and burst into tears he wrote out prescriptions for anti- depressants without even looking up from his desk. Hattie knew she wasn't depressed because she knew what that felt like, she'd had it when Brian was born, nearly forty years ago, and had got through it thanks to Tom's gentle kindness and patience.
 She felt tears come to her eyes as she thought of Tom. She would never stop missing him and the pain of losing him never seemed to lessen.  Now her beloved son Brian was working on the oil rigs in the North Sea and she hadn't seen him for months. She was feeling deeply sad, a lonely little girl turned into a lonely old woman.
 A colleague from the library where she used to work had told her about Greta's advert outside the Newsagents and had her first appointment. Greta had told her all about Naturopathy and the healing power of herbs and plants. When Hattie had told  Brian he'd scoffed and said it was all a load of baloney and she shouldn't believe all the hype.

 Someone coughed behind her and she turned round. It was her new neighbour John.  He looked tired and old, his grey hair needed a cut and his clothes were very crumpled.  Hattie knew that he was on his own and had moved here to be close to his daughter who lived nearby and had two little boys. She'd only seen him once briefly over the fence.

'Sorry Hattie, I didn't want to startle you.' He smiled at her and put his hand on her arm.

'Are you into all this health food ? Maybe you could help me'.

He held out a piece of paper.
 Hattie looked at it and read out loud,' Glucosamine. What's that for?'

'Well my daughter gives it to her horse for his joints and she said I should try it for my dodgy knees. Maybe it will turn me into a stallion.'

Hattie felt a giggle rise in her throat and coughed.

'There it is John, over there with all the other things for arthritis.'

 Above the display of bottles  was a large colourful photo of a grey haired couple running along a beach hand in hand.

John picked up a jar and put it in his basket. Hattie studied him carefully. He was still a handsome man. Her fingers itched to iron his crumpled shirt and sponge down the front of his jacket. She imagined running a hot bubble bath for him and shampooing his hair and giving it a quick trim. She thought of him sitting at her table tucking in to her special casserole and raising  a glass of wine to his lips.
 It had been so long since she'd looked after a man.

John turned to Hattie and she saw his eyes were bright. The young woman by the till had been busy filing her nails but she looked up and smiled at them.

'May I help you both? Greta has gone for a coffee and left me in charge.' She pulled herself up, tossed her mane of shiny hair and grinned.'I'm Greta's niece Jemma. I'm training to be a doctor but this is my work experience.'

John paid for his jar of tablets and then moved aside to study a poster on the wall advertising herbal teas proclaiming to cure all manner of ailments and restore balance and harmony to your life.
 Hattie put  her basket on the counter.  Jemma's eyes widened in amazement at the number of bottles before her.
 The two women looked at each other and smiled. Something passed between them, a sort of female complicity. Hattie thought of the fancy lingerie shop in the High street and the  new butcher's shop next door. An echo of her grandmother's voice travelling down through the years telling her that the best way to keep a man happy is a good steak and  a flash of something frilly. She looked at John hovering near the door and turned back to the young girl.

'I'll just take the cinnamon for now and see how I get on.'

Then she called to John, 'Would you like to come to dinner this evening with your daughter and her family? My son's coming to stay for a few days and I'm going to make a special meal.'

Jemma beamed broadly and looked from one to the other. John's shoulders relaxed and he smiled warmly.

'That's very kind of you Hattie. I'll ask my daughter, but I'd love to come anyway if I may.'

Slowly a cloud started to lift from around Hattie's heart. Just like the sweet shop when she was a little girl, she had found magic here.

Singing with Rufus and Trilly

The evening sun pierced Rufus's wing and he opened his eyes. For a moment he thought he was still in Africa, then he looked around and stretched his wings. He was back in Tom's garden at last.

 He'd been worrying about Tom all winter. Last summer Tom had been all on his own. The female that had lived with him had disappeared in a flurry of shouting .
 Rufus couldn't wait to sing for him.
 He couldn't wait to tell his friends the Robin and the Blue tit all about his adventures, the desert, the vast ocean and the strange things he'd eaten.
Most of all he couldn't wait to woo Trilly and win her heart with his new deep voice. Last year she had rejected him, said she preferred mature voices.
  He had thought about her all winter and how he would sing to her from the plum tree in Tom's garden.
 In Morocco and in  West Africa he had practised loud and clear morning and evening and sometimes all through the night. He had caught a lot of attention with his range of vocals, a young man called Jose and another called Karim had spent a lot of time trying to imitate him, just like Tom..

Rufus went to check out Tom's garden. The bushes that Tom had planted to keep out the muntjacs were laden with berries. There were lots of fat grubs and worms near the birdbath. He hopped about in excitement.

There was a movement near the house. Tom came out and went to sit under the pear tree. Rufus felt a sadness in his heart to see he was alone.

Dusk fell over the garden and the first bright star appeared.
 Rufus alighted gently among the branches of the pear tree. He puffed out his chest and inhaled the sweet evening air.
 He exhaled and in his song was all the passion and ecstasy that was in his heart for Trilly. The ecstatic warbles echoed round the garden.
 A young woman appeared from the French windows and went to sit beside Tom.
Rufus carried on, his throat was full of joyful sounds and his song poured out of him, giving delight and hope.
 He paused and waited.
 The he heard the answering call on the spring breeze. A ruffle of feathers and a shake of the branch and Trilly was there beside him. Together they continued their song in harmony.
They both paused and  waited poised above the bench waiting for Tom to join in.
Tom stood up and puffed out his chest then let out a whistle 'hweet, hweet, hweet'
Rufus and Trilly accompanied him. The garden was filled with exquisite singing that carried on the still sweet air.

  The young woman laughed and threw her arms round Tom's neck. Trilly hopped closer to Rufus. Together they sang their duet and Rufus heard the echo of Jose and Karim rejoicing in his song.

Growing up, growing apart

It was a beautiful day in late spring. Just perfect for a cycle ride.
Paul felt a pleasurable thrill as he pushed his foot down hard on the pedal. He glided off and closed his eyes as he felt himself relax. He often felt he could go round in a loop for eternity cycling along the country lanes, the wind wrapping itself around him like a caress. All his senses were heightened and he felt at one with nature. The scent of the flowers in the hedgerows, the new mown hay from the fields, the wild honeysuckle and dog roses. He breathed deeply filling his lungs with the sweet summer air. He  pushed harder on the pedals as the lane climbed upwards and when he reached the top he slowed to a halt. The view was breath-taking, shades of purple heather rolling away into a blue and turquoise shimmering haze. A few red kites were circling high in the clear blue sky.
Paul reached for his phone to take a photo, but then remembered he'd left it at home.

Just as he had been leaving, a text had come through from his brother, Mike.
Paul had groaned inwardly and tossed the phone in his golf bag that was near the door.

Paul often congratulated himself on his ability to have ignored all modern technology and social media. He'd perfected the most wonderful excuses to not use it at all.

Mike had pleaded with him, telling him that it would be a bridge to keep them together and lessen the distance between them. Mike had gone on and on about the importance of keeping in touch, of building bridges between families. Mike said that Whatsapp, Facetime, Skype would make them feel closer, the children would get to know each other. Paul didn't want to build bridges, he was perfectly happy with his own small world. it was much easier to keep Margaret happy when there was nobody competing for his affections. He felt quite proud of how he'd convinced his brother to leave him out of all these modern communications.

Paul didn't trust anything on the world wide web. All those hackers and weirdos had given him a great excuse to have opted out of having to speak to his brother or get involved with his family.

Paul knew that if he had his way, then Mike would have wanted to speak to him every week and tell him all about his wife Tess, and the children and grandchildren and his  house near Surfers Paradise and his friends drinking beers in the garden. Paul cringed at the thought. He wasn't interested in his brother's life at all.

 Both Paul and his wife Margaret hated phone conversations and now Paul had got his communication with his brother  down to a once a month phone call from his office with the occasional text.

Mike's texts often were emotional and managed to convey how much he missed Paul, thinking of you, wish you were here, hope to see you soon. Paul preferred to stick to facts, went on wonderful tour of the lakes, wine tasting at Betty and Sam's, wonderful hotel in the South of France.

A red sports car drove past, with the roof down, the driver waved and stopped.

It was one of Paul's golfing partners, Geoff.

'Admiring the view Paul, it's a beautiful evening. Join me for a pint at the King's Head?
By the way congratulations on your award.'

'Thanks Geoff, I'll be there in half an hour, drinks on me to celebrate.'

Geoff drove off and Paul pedalled after him raising his hand in farewell just as the car disappeared from sight.

Paul basked in the admiring glance that Geoff had given him. So many people admired him in their local community and in recent years even in London. He was known for his modest and unassuming ways in spite of the amazing success of his company. Paul's father had set up the company and then when he realized the popularity and competence of his son had taken early retirement. Paul's father had had two heart attacks and been told to slow down. The doctors said they had been caused by stress. Paul's mother was glad to have her husband to herself, and they discovered a mutual passion for cruises.

Everyone admired Paul's dedication to his parents, constantly looking after them until they passed on within a few months of each other.
Paul had run the company with charm and ease and won many awards, the latest one meant that he was due for an O.B.E and Margaret was already planning her outfit and having 'work' done on her face. The ceremony was in a week's time.
A shiver of pleasure ran down Paul's back and he pedalled faster, looking forward to his drink in the pub and the admiring crowd that would be there.

A car came up behind him and slowed, he glanced round and saw it was Margaret. He stopped and she came level and wound down the window.

'Paul darling, I'm sorry to come up like this but the landline kept ringing and I let it go to the answer phone. It was Tess. She said Mike's had a heart attack and might not last the night. I've already had a quick look at flights, I thought we could wait till after the award ceremony and then I thought we could stop a few nights in Dubai on the way home and do shopping, all the girls at tennis say it's amazing.'

She stopped talking and pulled down the shield to check her lipstick. Paul propped his bike up against the hedge. He felt sick. His face was pale under his tan and Margaret put out her hand to stroke his cheek. Paul brushed it away and snapped at her.

'Did you speak to Tess? Where is he? '

Margaret sighed heavily, 'No I didn't, I thought you'd better speak to her. It's really strange you know, a postcard just arrived of Sydney Harbour bridge inviting us to some sort of celebration. I thought we might go, my Bridge friends climbed it last year.'

'Ok listen Margaret, I was going to meet Geoff in the pub but I'll follow you home and we'll decide what to do.'

Margaret drove off and Paul followed. The sun was in his face now and the fields were bathed in gold. He looked straight ahead and a shaft of light broke across his path almost blinding him.

He thought he saw his brother's face before him and a lump came to his throat.
It was as though his brother's life flashed before him. He could see Mike's little face with its' cheeky grin, beaming at Paul when he'd won the sack race at school, cheering loudly and jumping up and down. He saw his brother's adoring looks as he watched his elder brother receive his prizes at Speech day.
Then he saw the hurt look in Mike's eyes as Paul left for his private boarding school in his smart new uniform. Paul had badgered his parents to send him to the same school as his elder cousin, already instinctively knowing he would acquire the skills he so admired.
A light seemed to go out of Mike's face as he was left behind.
Then Paul remembered the joy with which his brother welcomed him when he came home for the holidays and the relief and pleasure in his face when Paul decided to take his A levels at the local school. Mike had jumped up and down shouting out that he'd got a brother again. They were a proper family again.
Paul remembered all the fun they'd had listening to music, messing about with their bikes, going to parties, talking about the girls and swapping amusing stories.

Then , everything changed when Paul met Margaret. She thought Mike was a bit vulgar and too loud and they both breathed a sigh of relief when Mike announced that he was going to Australia for two years to work in an Architects' office. It wasn't long before he was writing long letters to tell them about Tess and her large boisterous family. They'd  had taken him under their wing and Mike wanted Paul and Margaret to come for the wedding with their parents.
Instead of going to Australia for the wedding, Paul and his father had called Mike over to sign over his shares of the business. They couldn't risk a herd of Australians coming to stake their claim.
The years went by and sometimes they had never managed to have a family reunion, the flights were expensive and Margaret didn't like Tess and her loud brash family.

The sun went behind a cloud and Paul felt a spot of rain. He pedalled faster. Maybe they shouldn't wait until after the ceremony, maybe they should go straight away. Paul glanced down at his firm strong thighs. He wasn't surprised that Mike had had a heart attack, all he seemed to do was talk about Barbies and beer. Paul and Margaret took great pride in their fitness regime, Pilates, tennis, cycling and long walks with friends.
The rain was coming faster now and Paul was relieved to see the gates of his house up ahead. He turned into the drive and for the first time didn't feel the immense pride at the sight of his elegant Georgian house with the roses round the door. Margaret opened the door holding out a large towel.

'Quickly Paul you'll catch a cold. No hurry now, Tess left another message saying he's gone. Come on in and I'll make you a nice hot cup of tea.'
She hesitated before saying, 'Tess said the last thing he said was to tell you he loves you.'

Paul slowly took the towel away and caught sight of his reflection in the gilt edged mirror.
He couldn't tell if it was rain or tears on his face.

Sailing the Ocean Blue

The sun was just beginning to set and Ted noted its position. Due East, he reckoned. 

He knew it would go down just to the right of the tall fir tree.
 Ted thought for a moment that the tree looked like the mast of a ship. He sighed and  closed his eyes. He imagined he could hear the sea breeze and feel the tingle of salt spray on his skin.
With his eyes closed, he could see the wide expanse of ocean, the lights of fishing trawlers on the horizon and maybe a dolphin or two. Then, he'd look for the evening star, his lucky star that would guide him home.

Ted sighed  again and opened his eyes. He was sitting in his garden and could see his reflection in the kitchen window. It was juxtaposed with his wife,Olive,and his daughter-in-law Judy . They were preparing a meal together. Judy's long blonde hair shone in the evening light and her turquoise dress shimmered through the glass. She could have been a mermaid.

 Love had come late in life to Ted's son Stephen. He'd travelled the world for a large oil company and then accepted early retirement, coming back to live near his ageing parents.  Ted and Olive had given up hope of becoming grandparents and then Judy had appeared, bouncing into their lives and bringing joy and laughter and exotic cooking.  After just a year Harry had arrived, the most beautiful baby boy that Ted had ever seen. The last sixteen years had been the happiest of his life.

The back door opened and his grandson ,Harry, came out bearing a tray. There were tumblers and a jug of something full of leaves and strawberries. In the middle was a large globe.

Harry filled two of the tumblers added straws and handed one to Ted .
 

'Here you are Grandpa, one of Mum's magic concoctions, don't ask what's in it.'
 

Harry held the tumbler and guided the straw into his grandfather's mouth. The old man sucked hard on the straw then relaxed and smiled at his grandson.
 

'You've found my old globe! My own grandfather gave it to me when I was a boy. I loved that globe. I'd sit for hours turning it around, slowly watching the huge stretches of blue moving away and drawing near.
It was the oceans that fascinated me.
Their beautiful names. Atlantic was my stately queen, dignified,majestic, reserved and independent. She demanded respect. I've watched her paint rosy sunsets off the coast of Iteland and create magnificent golden sunrises in Mexico.'
 

Harry laughed and gazed at his grandfather in awe.
 

'Oh wow grandpa you make the Atlantic sound like a person. Tell me about the others.'
 

Ted was aware of the intense blue of his grandson's eyes, so like his own and matching the blue of the oceans on the globe.
 

'Well,  next one along is the Indian Ocean. Sultry and exotic, full of the promise of the magic of its shores. Once, I went to the very lowest point of Africa, the tip of South Africa to a place where the Atlantic meets the Indian ocean. They reminded me of two beautiful women jealous of each others' looks. It was terrible the way they were going on. Squalls and squabbles all night long. Of course, they were each just as beautiful in their own ways. Funny, you know, you leave Africa with its elephants with big ears and then on the other side in India they've got small ones. '

Ted paused and smiled at his grandson.
 

' But, the most wonderful ocean of all dear Harry, is the Pacific. She can make men go wild. She is full of passion and beauty, exciting, magnificent, mysterious, magical. You can go for weeks without seeing land. When you land on her shores, beautiful young women throw exotic richly perfumed flowers round your neck. They entwine scented petals through your hair. Once you fall under the spell of the magnificent Pacific ocean you will be changed forever. From Japan to California and all the way down to Australia and New Zealand. You feel you could fall off the edge of the world down there.'
 

Ted put his hand out to touch the globe, it span slowly round.
 

'Look at the oceans Harry, aren't they something? Vast blue and unfathomable, home to so many creatures. Their waters lapping onto so many shores, uniting us all. The oceans are precious Harry. From space the Earth looks blue because of all that water.'

Ted stopped talking and his head slumped slightly forward.
 

'All that talking has given me a dry throat, let's have some more of your mum's drink!'
 

Harry held the straw and waited for his grandfather to finish.
He loved listening to the old man's stories. His mum said none of them were true. He just had a wonderful imagination. His grandfather had only ever been across the sea once, to a place called Dunkirk on a boat, when he was seventeen, after that he'd  never wanted to go anywhere else. He'd spent his life working  as a Coast guard in their little Cornish town.  Ted had saved so many lives and had won medals for his bravery. They were all stuffed in a draw somewhere, he never wanted to talk  about his work as a life guard.
 

The back door opened and Judy came across to sit with them, bringing along a delicious aroma of  her special Thai beef stew.

She looked at the scene before her. Her son and her father-in-law looking at each other across the globe. The brilliant blue of their eyes matching the oceans, full of deep unfathomable love reaching down through the years with the promise of something endless, eternal love. She stood up, her heart swelled, she felt as though she'd witnessed a precious moment when two lives linked together like a chain that would never be broken, her son and his grandfather united forever. So far apart in years and yet so very close.

'It's getting chilly out here now the sun's gone down. Push your grandpa in Harry and I'll serve up.'

The View from the Window

The signature music of the six-o-clock news was always a reminder that the supper should be started.
David and the live-in farm help would soon be coming in, washing off the dust from the fields and eagerly pulling up chairs to see what she had prepared.

Jan picked up the remote to turn it off, but as she glanced at the television set she stopped, riveted by the sharp contrast of the images on the screen and the view from her sitting room window.

Outside, the beautiful countryside was bathed in a golden evening glow.
 Shades of green and gold rolling like waves to the twinkling blue sea on the horizon.
 The gulls were swooping over the recently ploughed fields and calling to each other with glee at the feast they had found.
A man was walking along the footpath near the stream whistling to call his dog to heel.
A first bright evening star that she thought must be Venus was shining like a Christmas bauble that had been placed on top of the fir tree near the barn.

 A tiny crescent of moon appeared above the Bluebell wood. The last rays of the sun seemed to kiss the wild flowers in the top field and cast silver shadows across them.

The wild flower field was another idea from the EU. David got subsidies for leaving a field free to grow wild flowers.  Also the bright yellow rape seed and the maize would have been unheard of in her childhood. Jan came from farming stock and she had loved bringing her children up on the farm.

 Jan used to tell the children all sorts of stories about the little creatures that she imagined living around their farm, elves, pixies and fairies, talking hedgehogs and moles. Her children Heather and Mike would listen spellbound and beg for more, never tired of listening to her weave her tales until their eyelids grew too heavy and she would kiss them tenderly. As she left their room she always looked up at the night sky and made a wish for her family, that it would always be safe, strong and loving.

Jan looked up at the new moon and made that same wish, the one she had been making for as long as she could remember.

She looked back at the images on the television. The newscaster was talking about a desperate situation, desperate measures, desperate people. The camera zoomed in to a man strapped underneath a lorry, a group of men sitting on the grass, another group jumping on the top of a lorry. A young woman interviewed some motorists sitting in their car with worried expressions. They told her they kept the doors locked, they were afraid people might jump in their car. They looked hot and scared just like the men on the grass.

The newscaster walked over to a group of men. One of the men spoke English and he explained that he was looking for a way to help his family, he had two small children, he needed work to look after his family.  He seemed to echo the wish that Jan made as she looked at the moon.

Jan took out the casserole she had made that afternoon and put it in the oven, then she prepared the vegetables from her garden and laid the table.  She put a vase of sweet
peas in the centre of the table and cut thick slices of her homemade bread.

The news had changed now and there was talk of the  referendum about the EU. Jan sighed heavily. When she had met David  at a Young Farmers dance he had had a sticker on his car saying 'Farmers say No'. That was back in the seventies. That time the Referendum was whether to join the EU.  Back then it was called 'The Common Market' .
 

Jan switched the television off and went to look at her computer to see if either of her children were on Skype. Heather was in Australia doing work experience as a Physiotherapist. They spoke to each other  every day and it did help a bit but Jan was still counting the days until Heather came home.
 

Mike was studying at the nearby Agricultural college.  He was full of ideas to improve food production in a healthy way for both people and the environment. Mike had inherited his father's love of the land and right from the age of seven had had a stall selling produce from his own little vegetable patch. Mike was spending the Summer in Hungary working on a project called WOOF, nothing to do with dogs but an organization promoting world organic food .
 

A stamping of feet and happy chatter heralded the arrival of the men and Jan went to serve up their meal. They practically pounced on the rich delicious casserole and creamy mashed potato.

It was later as she was dishing up generous portions of Apple Crumble and clotted cream that Jan noticed that Piotr, the new Polish worker was quieter than usual and kept checking his phone.
 

' Everything alright Piotr? Any news from home''
 

 She laid her hand on his shoulder.

Piotr looked up. His eyes looked unnaturally bright.

'My grandfather is very unwell and my mother wants me to go home. I know this is a difficult time for you with the farm work and I don't know what to do.'

David reached across the table and handed Piotr another helping of the Apple crumble.

'Tell you what Piotr, there are storms forecast for later in the week. What do you say that we work through the night and get the fields ready, then you can get one of those cheap flights that young people know all about. Oh and tell your grandfather that he's got a wonderful grandson.'

With that, David picked up his spoon and carried on eating. Piotr gave him a broad smile and then tapped away on his phone.

Jan fought back tears. Her heart swelled with love for her husband. He worked so hard and never said much, but when he did his words seemed to her to be pure gold.

In the dying dusk Jan looked out across the fields. She'd cleared away and given the men flasks of coffee laced with a dash of brandy to keep them going through the night and chunks of her best fruit cake. She could see the lights of the tractors moving steadily around the fields. The new moon lit up the hedgerows. She could even make out the lights of the fishing boats on the distant sea.
 Jan thought of her daughter in Australia, her son in Hungary, Piotr longing to hold his grandfather one last time, the desperate people trying to cross the sea, the way the world seemed so small in the shadow of the vast sky above it and how the view held so much history. Just by looking at the view she could tell so many stories of the past, not just her own people but from around the world.

David had told her that his maternal grandmother Blanche had stood at that window watching her handsome young husband, his grandfather Archie march away in his smart new uniform, to come back a different man, a broken man haunted by terrible dreams for the rest of his life.
 His other grandfather Arthur had stayed behind to look after the farm always considered an essential duty.
 David's mother had stood watching the sea hoping that her husband would return safely from every dangerous mission to keep invaders from their shores. He did come back and was treated as a hero. David remembered him doing a victory roll in his Spitfire on one of the major anniversaries of the battle of Britain diving and swooping over the fields of his home to the delight of all the local children.
 The farm had been kept going again  by  David's grandfather Arthur, helped by young women from London and from Italian and Polish workers.
Afterwards everyone thought that that would be that, everyone could get back to business, enjoying a sort of peaceful unity at last.

 The world though seemed to Jan like the fields before her, forever changing, producing different crops and different challenges, some good some not so good.
 She remembered a saying from her French class at school by Proust that had stuck in her mind. Something about the real journey being the way you look at something.

The voyage of discovery is not in seeing new landscapes but in having new eyes.

 She thought again of the main items on the News, of the view in front of her. We have to keep on looking at the world with new eyes so we can do our bit to make it a better place for everyone.

In the early hours of the morning David crawled into bed. She could feel his weariness as he settled down next to her. She stroked his cheek and snuggled up against him, then her voice no more than a whisper moved towards his ear.

'That was so kind of you David, we can ask my nephew Brian to help until Piotr comes back, He's always happy to be with you. Everyone is.'

David sighed and turned towards her.

'My grandfather always told me there are three things that a human being has to learn to do. Eat properly and get along with other people.'

He shut his eyes and rolled over.

Jan touched him on the shoulder,

'That's only two, what's the third one?'

David's voice came husky and low.

'Get a good night's sleep.'











 

Love is in the Air

The aeroplane was full and Richard was one of the last to board.
 He scanned the aisle quickly and discretely taking in all the young women. There was a hen party sitting near the front, all wearing bunny outfits, whispering and giggling to each other. As he entered they fell silent, looking up at him with admiring glances. Then as he passed they broke into excited chatter and he caught the words, famous, actor and hot.
Richard wanted to punch the air and shout out loud. He always got a kick out of being mistaken for an actor, usually it was Jude Law.

He was more and more convinced that all females were ridiculous and he felt the sweet thrill of revenge whenever he got admiring glances. As a spotty teenager with his National Health glasses and his braces on his teeth, they'd all made fun of him and called him 'Spotted Dick', well he was getting his own back now.
All it took was an expensive Italian silk suit , a pair of designer sunglasses and they sat up straighter and tossed their hair.
He swung his new briefcase up into the overhead locker and slid into his seat.
 He always chose the aisle seat. Not for him idly looking out of the window at the green fields of his home and  the English channel waiting to catch a glimpse of the French coast.  He wanted to give the impression that he was a man with important business.
 Something tickled his face and he looked up to see something pink and fluffy fly over from the seat in front.  One of the hen party peered at him from the row in front, she was very flushed and she stared at him with enormous blue eyes.

'Excuse me asking, but are you that man who's in the film about the you know that film',

 There were giggles from her friends and she faltered.
He looked at her from over his dark glasses and ran his hand through his blonde hair.

'I don't mind you asking but you'd better put your seat in the upright position. '

There was a snort of laughter from the girl on her right.
He relished in the power that his looks gave him and leant back in his seat. The centre seat was vacant and for the first time he became aware that a young woman was sitting in the window seat and had turned to look at him. She smiled at him, warm and inviting and he took in her long glossy hair, perfectly made up face and generous cleavage. Richard shook his arm to display his expensive watch and saw the interest in her eyes increase.

 The moment the seat belt signs were off his table came down and he bent over his Ipad. The young woman next to him leant back in her seat and let her skirt ride up exposing a lot of smooth, tanned thigh. She slid a small white card onto the empty seat. He knew what that meant, but the girls in front were making him feel uncomfortable and he decided to wait. He hunched over his I pad and looked at his emails. There was one from his friend Paul, moaning on and on about the sleepless nights with the new baby, how Joanna had no time for him and he was beginning to feel like a monk. Richard smiled to himself. he couldn't understand why any man would want to get married. He had everything he needed. He took his clothes to the drycleaners, ate out in restaurants or bought take-aways, had a cleaner in twice a week and for any more  basic needs he went to the ' Pussy Galore' or merely encouraged young women like the one sitting next to him.  Sometimes he felt that maybe they were just nice to him because he was paying and tried to ignore the bored, vacant look in their eyes.

The captain's voice informed them that they were travelling at 29,000 feet and would soon be travelling across Germany then on to Austria and finally Prague.
Richard turned back to his emails. There was one from his colleague Les at the bank where they both worked in the Finance section. Les wanted to , remindi him that there was an abundant supply of beautiful charming women in Prague who would be eager to keep him company. Les said that  he'd been on a Stag weekend there and often you would find them on the plane picking out the men that looked most appealing or waiting for you in a limousine in their underwear raring to go.
 Richard felt some bile rise. He must have eaten something last night, that Chinese chicken had tasted a bit strange.
 Les was married to a nurse Harriet who did a lot of night duties to earn extra money and Les had discovered the 'Pussy Galore' as a way of passing the nights when Harriet was working. Last week they'd gone together and shared a private dance. for some reason it hadn't been so much fun and Richard had even thought the girl looked like a spider crawling all over them.
The hen do girls broke into raucous laughter. He could hear catches of their conversation.
'Oh I love him so much, oh just the thought of him makes me feel warm all over,'

There was more laughter and one of them started to sing ' You're the one that I want.' 

The other girls joined in ' Honey! Ooh ooh ooh.' 

" Oh Emma you are so lucky. I wish I could find someone that I loved and that loved me.'

'I know, I feel lucky. Just think I'll be waking up next to him every morning and kissing him goodnight every night. I do hope I can make him happy.'

One of the girls spoke up, 'He loves you Emma, he's my brother and I know him. He really loves you. He says you're the only girl who makes him laugh and he only ever wants you. My mum says you bring out the best him in and we're all really happy.'

There was silence and then a sob,
'Oh Becky I love you, we're going to be sisters yay!!'

Richard thought of his sister Katie. She was the only reason he didn't hate women altogether.   He didn't think of her as a female, she might as well be his brother. She had protected him  when their mother had run off with the dentist for a new life in Spain and left them with their drunken abusive father. Katie used to come into his bedroom and tell him stories that would make him laugh and forget about the noises coming up the stairs. Katie made him laugh and brought out the best in him.

There was only one other person that had brought out the best in him and made him laugh and that was Sophie Johnson. They had been at school together both in the advanced maths group and neither good at sports, they were considered nerds . Sophie was the only one who never called him Spotted Dick.
 After A levels her family had moved away to Solihull and he'd been too shy to ask for her address.

 Katie was  an Architect and had gone to Prague for a six month work experience exchange. She loved it there and had made lots of friends and he was going to spend the weekend with her. She'd organized a tour of all the beautiful buildings. Maybe he could pick up the girl's visiting card and meet her after he'd seen Katie.

The hen do girls appeared above their seats looking at the drinks trolley which was coming up behind. Richard glanced up at the stewardess and gasped as he saw the name tag Sophie. It couldn't be her, after all these years, just when he was thinking about her. It was too much of a coincidence. There were loads of Sophies. He looked up at her face. It was her.  It must be a sign. Sophie grinned at him.

'Ooh look at you all dressed up like a dog's dinner. It is you isn't it Richard Taylor? What are you, a body guard or something? Or are you going to a stag party  or just trying your luck?'

Richard felt himself redden. He 'd forgotten how much he'd liked Sophie's blunt Northern humour , there was real affection in her voice and pleasure at seeing him. The hen party stood up and stared at him, then sat down giggling. The girl by the window covered her card with her hand.

'Sophie, fancy seeing you here, it's a small world.'

'Well I don't know about that, I've been wishing I'd meet you again ever since we left school. I've tried once or twice on Facebook but couldn't recognize you. I can see why now. But even

With that monkey suit underneath your  fancy specs you've still got the same lovely eyes.'

She gave him a look that made his whole body tense up and a feeling of warm electricity flowed through him.  Sophie touched his arm and caused a tremour of delightful anticipation, something that the girls at Pussy Galore had never done.

Richard took a breath to calm himself down. 'I'm going to see my sister, she's working in Prague.'

The hen girls stood up again and looked at  the trolley discussing whether to have coffee or wine, chocolate or peanuts.

' Tell you what Richard, I've got an overnight stay in Prague. If you like I could show you and Katie the best beer garden in town.'

Richard felt like he'd come to a crossroads, he was being given a chance, something special was happening . There was magic in the air. If he took the girl's card he was sure of company for the night. If he accepted Sophie's offer he might be getting company for a life time. He just might be able to have what the hen party were talking about, someone who made him laugh and brought out the best in him.

Sophie was busy handing out the drinks and snacks to the girls. Richard loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. He leaned back in his seat and watched how deftly Sophie served the drinks. There was a calm kindness in her every movement. She met his eyes. He smiled at her and was filled with an intense feeling of joy and deep in his heart a glimmer of hope.

Making Wishes

All through his childhood John had been fascinated by stories about making wishes. He spent a lot of time thinking about the wishes he would make, if he was given the chance: a crock of gold, a white stallion, a magic cloak. His elder brother Colin was always pragmatic, he'd wish for another three wishes straight away so he would have even more wishes. John had never found out what Colin's wishes would be. He couldn't think what Colin may wish: in his eyes, Colin was perfect.

John's favourite wish was that his mother and father would marry again. They'd fall in love  and there would be a big wedding with a huge cake and lots of dancing and laughter. His uncle would make jokes and his mother would smile again.

As he grew up John still diced with chance in different ways. If he took his red pencil case to school then he'd pass his exam. If he walked home through the park then his mother would have made him a nice tea. If he tidied up his bedroom then his father would visit. If he learned to swim then his father would take them on holiday. If the traffic light stayed green then he'd pass his test. If he wore his grey boxers then Felicity Markham would go out with him. If he lost a few pounds and got into the rowing team then she'd want to marry him. If he got a first class honours in his Law degree then Colin would always come back safely from his high risk job working as a diver on the North Sea oil platforms.

It was here that things started to go wrong and John faltered a bit. He got his first class degree and Colin was flown by emergency helicopter from the North Sea and in danger of losing his leg. . They got a telegram saying Colin was in a bad way.
  John went off to visit him straight away. He took grapes, books, chocolates and some of the girly mags that he knew his brother liked so much. If he found a parking space then everything would be all right.

The hospital car park was full. John was determined to find a space, his brother's life depended on it. He waited in the car at the entrance to the car park. He looked down on his lap and was surprised to see his hands clasped tightly together.

He looked up to the sky. 'Please, please, please, let Colin be alright.'

There was a rap on the window.

'If you're waiting for a space mate, I'm on my way out. The red Fiesta over there.'

Encouraged by this answer to his wish John parked the car and grabbed his gifts for Colin and went to find the ward. His phone rang, it was Felicity.

'Just to say I'm thinking of you John, send your brother my love and tell him I'll come next time. It's best that it's just you today.' Her voice changed, excited and joyful she whispered, 'I felt the baby move today , it's a sign.'

As he walked in to the ward John had to try hard not to cry at the sight of his brother. He was all bandaged up and his thick curly hair had been cut  so short you could see his scalp. His remaining leg was in a splint and his arms were limp at his sides. Only when he turned and saw John was there a sign of the handsome man he was. His face lit up with a radiant smile and he struggled to sit up.

'Hey little brother look at you! What great news about you becoming a dad. You'll be the best one ever.'

He sank back on the pillows and a pretty nurse rushed up to steady him.

Colin winked at her and she giggled. John sat down on the chair by the bed.

'You had us worried all right, don't go doing that any more. Here just a few things to keep you going. Felicity asked me to make a list of all the things you need, and she'll come with me tomorrow.'

He popped a grape into Colin's mouth and then took one for himself.

'Felicity's great, you chose well there mate. Tell her I'll be over soon and want one of her special roasts.'

Colin moved his arm and the magazines fell on the floor. The nurse came over to pick them up and when she saw the covers she laughed and carefully placed them next to him. She turned to John,

'You must be the little brother he talks about so much. Nice to meet you. My name's Lisa, you've got a great brother and no need to worry about him he's going to be fine. He's a fighter. I'm going to look after him, personally.'

She gave Colin a look of such tenderness and admiration that John caught his breath. There was an intensity of feeling there that hinted at a lot more than a professional interest.

Hope and relief flooded through John and he knew just how frightened he had been, how much his brother meant to him, how much he had been praying every day all of his life that his brother would be all right, and it was only now he realised it.

'You're on to a good thing there Colin, I think she's got the hots for you. I don't know how you do it with your leg stuck up in the air and bandages everywhere.'

Colin gave one of his wicked grins, 'Not everywhere mate, not everywhere.'

Later that evening when the visitors had left and there was a stillness on the ward Lisa came to Colin and sat by his bed. She took his hand in hers and gently squeezed it.
Colin closed his eyes. He thought of his brother and how all the wishes he had made for him had come true. John had always excelled at school and university and found true love and now was about become a father. He returned the squeeze to Lisa's hand and then opened his eyes and smiled at her.

Maybe he could make a wish for himself now.

Sammy's New Job

The room was quite dark and Sammy could just make out some barrels standing in a row .  He eyed them with a sense of alarm.
 The first barrel had a label on it 'Personality traits, '. He lifted the lid slightly just enough to peer inside. A sweet smelling breeze escaped ruffling his wings and enveloping him in a warm glow. Encouraged by this he lifted the lid some more and could see honest, loyal, bright, brilliant, brave and friendly, patient, understanding, all on the surface.
 Sammy put the lid back. He liked the sound of loyal, friendly and brave, also faithful, excitable and amusing.

Sammy went to the next barrel and lifted the lid right up. He reeled back in fright as a torrid pungent very unpleasant smell hit him with force. A slimy green foam was oozing over the edge. He slammed the lid back on and read the label, 'Personality traits, bad'. Sammy shivered and gritted his teeth. A noise behind him made him turn round. He could make out a shape in the corner near the other two barrels. For the first time he became aware that the last two barrels were gleaming and shining in the darkness of the room. The shape in the corner moved and Sammy called out.

' Hello, who's there?'

The shape came towards him and he could make out a long white beard and a midnight blue cloak.

With no introduction the shape spoke, warmth and calm in the voice,

'Hello Sammy we've been waiting for you.'

Sammy nodded towards the barrels.

'I'm not really sure what to do. It's so different from where I was before. I only had one barrel there and it was full of nice things .

'Sammy you've done so well that you will be just fine, follow your instincts. I'll stay with you for awhile in case you have any questions.

Sammy went back to the first barrel and looked at its contents. There was so much there, agreeable, adventurous,generous, funny, friendly, warm-hearted, kind, efficient, cheerful, positive, jovial, happy, patient, caring, loving, diligent, shy, ambitious, assertive, honest, true, faithful.. the list went on and on. Sammy felt happy just looking at them all.

Then he braced himself and took the lid off the other barrel, he held his breath and felt himself recoil, slovenly, selfish, weak, lazy, aggressive, conceited, mean, greed, envy, jealousy, hatred, he shuddered.

'Why do they have to have all these horrible traits?'

There was a sighing noise that swept round the room.

'Human beings are different.  They can be blessed with excellent qualities that bring joy and happiness to all that meet them but they all have some bad things too, some more than others, but all of them. There is one thing though that will help them be able to survive. They have the gift of free will and they can improve themselves all on their own, with their actions, their attitudes and their behaviour.'

Sammy felt confused but tried not to show it.

'You mean they are responsible for their actions attitude and behaviour? They can improve all by themselves?'

'It's a tricky thing though and I'm still working on it that's why there are those big silver and gold barrels at the end.'

'What's in them? Can I see''

'Oh yes, you must. You will use those a lot. You will have to. In the silver one is Love and in the gold one there is Forgiveness. Use them freely. They will help the human beings heal.'

Sammy walked towards the barrels and saw that there was another row behind.

'What are all those barrels for' What must I do?'

A gust of wind swept into the room and the midnight cloak moved towards the door.

'You will have to work hard Sammy. You see human beings hurt each other, they even kill each other. They do a lot of harm to each other. That's what's stored in the barrels at the back, resentment, bitterness, self loathing, it's not a pretty sight. There's even one for misunderstandings and revenge.'

Sammy gasped, 'Human beings sound very complicated and not very nice.'

The wind died down and the cloak disappeared, just the voice came on the breeze,

'The problem is that they are very fragile.'
There was a warm comforting breeze and Sammy was aware of great strength and goodness.

 Good luck Sammy with your new job.'

Lucky Lips - Cliff Richard & The Shadows