On a good day Cynthia looked at herself in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her thick curly hair and slicked on some lip gloss. She would then go through the motions of taking the children to school and picking them up again.
On a bad day she stayed in bed. John took the children to school. She lay looking at the ceiling and pretending she was back at home listening to the sounds of her mother in the kitchen and her brother playing his guitar, she was a child again.
Yesterday she'd tried to describe what she felt to the doctor. He'd asked her if she cried a lot. She'd realized then that he hadn't understood.
Today was a good day. Cynthia dropped the children off at school, watching as they went through the main door arm in arm with their friends. Fiona was eight and had three best friends. She was a friendly happy child. Cynthia had been too. A fragment of an overheard conversation filtered into her head.
'Cynthia will always be alright. She'll bounce back to the surface. She's the happy one. It's Stephen we've got to watch. He's the one that needs protecting.'
Cynthia vowed she would never label her children like that. Greg was a bit moody and seemed more fragile but she knew only too well how quickly Fiona's happy disposition could be snatched from her.
Greg was ten and the teachers were always telling Cynthia to keep him away from certain influences., this boy or that. Cynthia had her own ideas though. She had talked about it with John last night.
'There'll always be someone who's a bad influence, we've got to make him strong. He must be able to cope with anyone who comes his way.'
John had agreed with her.
'Don't worry Cynthia, we're together on this, Greg will be fine.'
Then he'd casually asked her how she was feeling.
Cynthia knew he didn't understand. It was no use explaining that she felt as though she was enclosed in a glass bubble, she couldn't find a way out and had no future. It took all her energy just to keep things as they were.
Cynthia got back in the car and turned on the radio. It was a gardening programme.
'It's time to think about Spring,' The presenter was full of enthusiasm.
'Are your crocuses out? Have the bulbs you planted in the Autumn fulfilled their promise? If not why not go past your local garden centre and pick up some primulas for instant colour in your garden.'
Colour. That's what she needed. It was such a grey day. Cynthia decided to go by the new Garden centre that she'd read about in the local paper.
As she parked the car she saw a sign saying 'Cream teas, all day long.' A lump came to her throat as she thought how much her mother would have liked that. Cynthia picked up a trolley and started to walk through the vast displays of seasonal plants. huge signs proclaimed exciting bargain offers. She loaded up the trolley with primulas in all the colours of the rainbow, yellow, purple, white, crimson, pale pink, dark pink. In the corner were a few in the pale lemon colour her mother had loved so much, Primrose yellow and next to them some cowslips. She remembered there being hundreds of cowslips when she was a girl and her mother talked about cowslip wine, but then they had become a protected species and it was illegal to pick them. Here they were in the garden centre. Cynthia added them to her trolley.
She walked towards the cafè, parked her trolley and went in for the all day cream tea.
As she was paying she looked at the woman at the till and said shyly,
'This will be my lunch today.'
The woman smiled back at her.
'Good idea, and you've got a free cup of tea with that.'
The woman brought over the cream tea on a tray. On an impulse Cynthia asked if she'd like to join her. the woman looked delighted and pulled up a chair and introduced herself as Irene, one of the new owners.
'As there aren't any customers at the moment. I was feeling a bit lonely, the children at school and I'm out of work, I would have brought my mum but'.. Cynthia's voive broke
'Oh I'm sorry' Irene put her hand on Cynthia's arm.
'Oh no, she's, it's not that, 'Cynthia was flustered. 'She's gone to live with my brother and his family in New Zealand and it's hard for me to get used to being without her. My dad died when I was small. My brother was sent to New Zealand by his company. It seemed he had no choice, his wife Donna and two boys were all enthusiastic.
Cynthia's mum had turned away from her when she'd explained, 'He needs me Cynthia, he's not strong like you.'
Irene waited while Cynthia bit into her scone with jam and cream.
'I know how you feel. It seems a long way. My daughter lives in Australia, she loves it, She's just moved to Melbourne with her boyfriend. We're going out to visit her for Chrstmas. I got a bit depressed when she first went out there but now I'm expert at facetime, skype, the lot. Has your mum gone for good or could she come back for a few months in the Summer and maybe you go out there sometimes.?'
Cynthia took a sip of her tea and said in a quiet voice, 'I think I'm a bit depressed.'
She couldn't believe that she had confided in a total stranger something she had hardly admitted to herself.but Irene was so warm and friendly and had used the word 'depressed'. Sitting here surrounded by the colourful plant, the delicious cream tea and the strong sweet tea Cynthia felt a break in the cloud over her head, some Sunshine trying to pierce the gloom.
Irene stood up.
'Someone's just come in. Look you come back whenever you like. I was just thinking if you'd like to come and help out here sometimes. Pop in on Friday and my husband will be here, we can talk about it. I'll show you how to get cheap flights for New Zealand.'
That evening when John came home, Cynthia told them all to close their eyes. She looked at her family standing in a row, John, Fiona and Greg with their eyes tight shut. She turned on the outside light and told them to look at the garden. She was not disappointed by their shouts of joy. There before them was a spectacle of bright colours, a rainbow carpet.
'How lovely mum ,' Fiona hugged her, 'our garden looks happy again'
John poured her a cup of coffee when the children were in bed and put his arm round her.
'Well done with your instant Spring garden. I'm sorry I never seem to have time to do anything. On Saturday I thought I might take Greg to the football match. I could ask Harry, my sister Kate's son to come with us. He's football mad. We could have them round afterwards and I'll get us all a takeaway.'
Cynthia smiled at her husband. Gratitude filled her heart. One step at a time, one day at a time, always in the right direction.
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| Sweep away the gloom with a splash of colour |
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