Dumfy the Comfy

Dumfy the Comfy loved stories. He had been made specially for storytelling. His position in front of the fire, but not too close so as to discolour his smart velvet upholstery, was soft and warm and inviting. 

Every evening after bathtime the two little children Frankie and Georgie would snuggle up on their mother Brenda's lap while she told them a bedtime story.

 Dumfy would settle back, relax and luxuriate in the feel of the children stroking his large padded arms and the mother resting her head on his back as she hugged the children tight. Then she would tell a story, a different one each night. Sometimes there would be magic in the stories, different creatures, and faraway lands. Animals and flowers that could speak and fairies and pixies that lived in woods or gardens. Sometimes the stories would be about real children called Frankie and Georgie and the two children would squirm with excitement and giggle at the mischief their namesakes would do. Georgie spilling flour and milk over the kitchen floor and daddy skidding across clutching hold of the curtains and pulling them down. Frankie whizzing off on new roller skates and crashing into the garage door. Daddy breaking all the eggs and mummy making an enormous pancake. One thing the stories had in common was that everything turned out for the best, everything was alright in the end.

Dumfy's favourite stories though were the ones Brenda told at Christmas. 

The winter months were bliss for Dumfy- The long dark evenings were perfect for story telling.

 He knew that Christmas was getting near when the children started decorating the house and Brenda would make biscuits and cakes that spent a long time in the oven.

One evening the children came down in their pyjamas and dressing gowns and rushed to sit on Dumfy. To his surprise Brenda called out,

'Frankie, Georgie off upstairs now, I shall tell you your bedtime story in bed tonight. Daddy has got to make room for the Christmas tree because Grandpa and Grandma are coming to stay and we need to make room for their sofabed.'

Frankie and Georgie ran to Dumfy and stroked his soft arms. They were worn rather thin now and in the light from the fire he looked a little shabby.

'Good night Dumfy, see you tomorrow, ' they called and scampered up the stairs.

The next day the house was very quiet. It was the last day of term before the Christmas holidays and Frankie and Georgie had left in a flurry of excitement bearing gifts for their teacher and Brenda had gone to do her last minute Christmas shopping. It was a grey foggy day and the room was quite dark. Dumfy felt himself relax and a warm glow came over him as he thought of all the story telling during the Christmas holidays. 

A jolt went through him and he shuddered as the back door was flung open and a gust of icy wind blew into the room. 

Two men came in puffing and panting carrying an enormous Christmas tree and stuck it right next to him sprinkling needles onto his velvet seat.

One of the men shoved the tree so hard it pushed Dumfy out into the passage. He shivered and tried to shake off the needles.

'This must be the old chair that we've got to take away. Chap said they needed to make room for the new sofa bed. We can bring that in and set up the tree then load this old armchair onto the van.'

The other man came up to Dumfy and stroked his arm,

'Are you sure? It doesn't look that old, but I suppose once the sofa bed is in here there won't be room, so ok heave ho.'

 Up into the air went Dumfy, carried on the men's shoulders and tossed into the back of their van. 

He couldn't believe it. There was a mistake. Surely they didn't want to get rid of him? He might look a bit shabby, but they needed him.

He tried to manoeuvre himself off the back of the lorry into the road. He managed to shift his wooden casters over the edge off the van. The men came back dusting their hands , pushed roughly at the doors and climbed up into their cab. They were laughing and full of Christmas spirit, eager to be home and they didn't notice that the doors weren't closed. As they bumped along the road and swung round the corner Dumfy slid out of the van and rolled onto the grass verge. He rolled over and over down into a ditch and felt his arms grow sodden and heavy with the mud. He landed in a puddle, upside down with  his wooden castors spinning in the air.

He heaved and heaved until he was the right way up and looked around him. He could see the cars passing by on the road above him. He wanted to go home and he wanted Frankie and Georgie to run to him and listen to Brenda's sories. There was a rustling noise from the undergrowth and a little furry rabbit scampered up onto his lap.

'Hello, I saw you fall off that van. What a tumbling you took, I'm surprised your stuffing hasn't come out, you must be very well made, last week a mattress fell off the roof of a car and it was feathers everywhere.' The rabbit stopped for breath, 'I'm Brown Person by the way. Pleased to meet you.'

The rabbit waved his paw and sat down.

'I'm Dumfy the Comfy, though you'd never think so now, who would want to sit on me. I live in a house with Frankie and Georgie and their mummy and dad and there must have been a mistake and now I'm lost. Brown Person is a funny name, you're not a person, you're a rabbit.'

The rabbit sat up and laid back his ears,

'I'm not a real rabbit, I'm a cuddly toy, but who would want to cuddle me now, look at me, all mangled from being out here in the rain.'

Dumfy sighed. There was more rustling from the bushes and a little Robin red breast appeared.

'What's all the noise ? Are you in trouble? I'm good at rescuing people and so tell me and I can help. '

Brown Person and Dumfy looked at the robin in awe,  'They have pictures of you everywhere in my house, ' said Dumfy. 'Everyone gets excited when the postman brings pictures of you.'

The Robin ruffled his feathers and puffed up his little red chest, it looked like a fire brightening up  the gloomy day. 'I know they love me, especially at Christmas, one of my great great great great great grandfathers warmed a little baby a long long time ago, in a stable and they gave him a red breast as a reward and ever since I am a special bird.'

'That's a lovely story,' said Dumfy. 'I love stories, I'm a story chair where people tell stories. What's going to happen to me now, nobody will want to sit in me any more.'

The rabbit hung his head, 'Nobody will want to cuddle me'.

The robin flew up in the air and down again.

'I have an idea, tell me where your house is and I'll go and get them. Are there any trees or bushes or something so I can recognize it?'

Dumfy thought hard. 'There's a holly bush in the front garden with big red berries because they have brought some in for Christmas and there's a Christmas tree inside where I should be and there's a green car in the drive and a bicycle with a pink basket.'

The robin flapped his wings impatient to be off. 'Just don't move until I come back' he trilled.

Brown Person curled up into a ball close to Dumfy's back. 

The day was getting dark and small white flakes appeared from the sky. Dumfy and Brown Person huddled together.

Back at the house Frankie and Georgie had come home from school and were sobbing fat tears as they discovered Dumfy had gone.  Brenda was on the phone to the shop that had brought the table and the tree. ' I don't understand, 'She was running her hands through her hair. 'Why did you take the chair away and where's it gone? Yes I know I said make room for the table.' 

She turned round to the children and put her arms round them. 'We'll get Dumfy back,don't worry.'

She looked out of the kitchen window and cried ' Look it's snowing! Snow makes everything alright, it's magic.' The children rushed to the back door and tilted their faces to feel the snowflakes which mingled with their tears. 

Frankie called out 'Look there's a little robin, he looks like he wants us to follow him.'

Brenda came to join them. the little robin was flapping his wings and flying off then coming back and flying off again.

'Quick put on your coats and let's see what he wants.' 

They huddled together holding onto each other to stop themselves from slipping and sliding and followed the little robin who kept swoooping and diving around them until they reached the ditch. There the robin stopped and hovered above Dumfy and Brown Person. Brenda and the children peered down and then shouted for joy as they saw Dumfy.

'It's Dumfy, it's him ! The robin knew where he was, it is magic. It's like one of your stories mum.' Frankie was laughing and crying at the same time and Georgie climbed down and picked up the little rabbit, 'Look Dumfy has made a friend. We can take him home too.'

Brenda called the shop and they soon returned with the van and loaded up Dumfy and said how sorry they were for their mistake.

When they were all home and Dumfy and the rabbit had been cleaned up, Brenda gave everyone a cup of tea and a mince pie . 

The shop had sent a big box of  Christmas decorations for the tree to apologize and that evening they all sat together in Dumfy even though he was still a bit soggy, with only the lights on the tree and listened to the adventures of Dumfy the Comfy. Dumfy puffed himself out, making himself as comfortable and soft as possible and sighed with happiness, he was not only a story chair but now there was a story about him.

 

Celebrating the Pure at Heart

My mum used to tell my brother and me stories, she bound us together with a golden thread , she was a wonderful story teller. We would sit together in an armchair that she called Dumfy the Comfy by the fire and she would read the messages that Father Christmas sent on the chimney, sparkly trails that only she could read. Every Christmas she would tell us a story about a little girl called Susan who desperately wanted a baby brother.

 xxxx

Susan was so excited it was Christmas Eve, all the decorations were up, paper chains hanging everywhere, the lights on the tree twinkling with the promise of something good, something special, something extraordinay. Susan kept bouncing up and down on the bed and chanting 'Father Christmas is on his way, he's bringing me a baby brother.' She had prepared her doll's cot with fresh clean sheets and blankets  and put her favourite soft toy rabbit on the pillow.

Her mother and father smiled at her. Daddy picked her up and carried her to the window. 'Look up at the stars Susan,

He hugged the little girl, revelling in the sweet smell of her clean pyjamas and fruit shampoo,'don't be disappointed if Father Christmas doesn't bring a baby brother, maybe he'll bring a new doll, because I think he only has toys at the North Pole.'

Susan's eyes grew wide as she stared at her father, ' He's magic, daddy, he can do anything.'

He lay her down under the blankets and tucked her in. Mummy kissed her, ' Father Christmas only comes when everyone is fast asleep so close your eyes now and  I'll tell you a story.'

Meanwhile at the North Pole Mother Christmas was preparing hot chocolate in a flask and cheese sandwiches with pickle, Father Christmas's favourite. She tucked the picnic basket  by Father Christmas at the front of the sleigh, slipping in a shiny bar of chocolate and then gave him a kiss. 

'Have you got everything dear? Have you checked your list?'

Father Christmas sighed, 'The only thing I haven't got is a baby brother for a little girl called Susan who lives near London in England. I have got a puppy for a boy who lives in Scotland and a kitten for a girl in Wales but ..'

Mother Christmas hugged him, 'Have you got a nice doll you can give her? Nobody has ever asked for a baby brother before.' Father Christmas sighed, 'I don't like disappointing the children, I don't know what to do.'

Father Christmas cracked the reins and the bells jingled merrily as they flew up into the bright night sky. He waved back at Mother Christmas and started on his journey. He flew across the Atlantic Ocean to America, then on to Japan and China, down to Australia and New Zealand, up to India the across to Turkey where he had a lot of relations, then on to Europe. As he flew over London he looked down at all the beautiful parks and decided this was the best place for his picnic. His load was much lighter and he glided into Hyde Park narrowly missing the Serpentine. He got out and gave the reindeer their nose bags of carrots and hay then got back into his sleigh, poured himself a cup of hot chocolate and took a bite out of his sandwich. All was quiet and still. A shooting star swept across the sky, Father Christmas felt the magic of Christmas Eve envelop him like a warm velvet cloak. He lost his balance as Rudolph lifted up his head with a sharp movement.

'What is it Rudi? Can you hear something?

In the deep stillness of the night Father Christmas heard a whimpering noise. He crept out of the sleigh and walked towards a bush where the sound was coming from. He gazed down in amazement as he saw a little boy holding out his arms to be picked up.

'Hello little fellow what are you doing here?' Father Christmas took him back to the sleigh and wrapped him inside his warm red cloak.

Now Father Christmas can understand what children say even before they are old enough to talk, what we would have heard as 'gagaga' Father Christmas understood to mean, 'I am lost and nobody wants me and I need a home.'

Father Christmas wished Mother Christmas was there because she always knew the right thing to do but then he remembered Susan's letter. He took the letter out and checked the address. Susan lived near London! He would take the baby to Susan !

He quickly finished his sandwiches and hot chocolate and set off.

Rudolph knew exactly where to go because he remembered taking Susan a toy rabbit the year before.

Father Christmas crept into Susan's bedroom, sprinkling magic dust as he went, he put special wishes into Susan's parents' bedroom and when he saw the little cot prepared next to Susan's bed he gently laid the baby down and drew the blankets round him and smiled broadly as watched the baby snuggle up to the toy rabbit

He gave a deep sigh of satisfaction and rushed back to the sleigh. He hadn't much left to do, the kitten for Wales and the puppy in Scotland and then home! He was so eager now to get home and tell Mother Christmas about the baby brother he had found.

On Christmas morning Susan's mother and father were woken to the joyful noise of Susan singin 'I've got a baby brother! I knew he'd bring one! Oh thank you Father Christmas, thank you.'

They ran to Susan's bedroom and laughed with delight as they saw her cradling a dear little baby. Thanks to father Chr'stmas's magic wishes they became the happiest family in England.

 

Thoughts while at the Hairdressers

 I like my hair when it's in a mess,

Sticky bits from a child's caress,

The wind that whipped my fringe about

Sticking hair to my glossy pout

I would like to have it thick and long

But it's never really been that strong

I remember my mother in despair

Trying to do something with my hair

Bows each side or a pony tail

Brushing away to no avail

It escaped the bands, it defied the clips

'Such fine hair', she'd purse her lips

She'd tug, she'd plait

She'd smooth it flat,

 'It's not like  mine, all glossy curls,

It's so unfair for little girls

To have such fine and  wispy hair

It's like your dad's so thin and fair.'

I drink my coffee, read my book

Consider having a new look,

A girl comes now to wash my hair

In the mirror I see you there

My dear old dad is in my eyes

In my heart and it's no surprise

My mum's voice ,they're always there

Even when I do my hair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Teatime in Lockdown

 

'Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies,' sang the radio.

Suze turned it off. 

'Lies' she thought, she'd had enough of those and thinking about what is the truth. She looked at the clock.It was nearly tea time, half past four and she always stopped whatever she was doing and put the kettle on.

Since lockdown began Suze and Brian had been shielding, they were considered vulnerable, or fragile or something. Here they were in their late seventies and feeling more useless than ever.

Suze picked up her cellphone, there were 12 whatsapp messages. She glanced at them, scrolling down, some trying to see humour where really there was none. A man yawning and telling his little boy that after the pandemic people would be good, a message about we're all in the same storm but not the same ship, not stuck at home, safe at home, everyone trying to kid themselves things were alright. Her shoulders slumped. If people needed a pandemic to know what mattered in life then poor them. Her weekly magazine was full of wartime spirit, articles on knitting, hobbies, gardening. people who saw the lockdown as a blessing, they had time for their marriage, for their pet sheep, to enjoy their wonderful gardens.They all sounded so smug.

She needed to clear her head. She put the radio back on, 'land of hope and glory' wrapped itself round the room, suffocating, filling her eyes with tears of desperation. She switched it off. She picked up a cushion she was embroidering for her granddaughter, Emma.

 Her friend Svetlana had given it to her for Christmas. Svetlana had said at the time

'Suzanna you must put love in every stitch. Empty your head of all thoughts and only put good ones there then your granddaughter will always feel your love.'

It seemed perfect for a lockdown activity.  She sighed and squinted trying to thread the needle.

'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, think nice thoughts, you become what you think, never judge, be kind, think about all the people you love, be grateful, be kind, look on the bright side,' her head swarmed with buzzing thoughts.

The doorbell rang and she rushed to open it pulling up her mask and grabbing the hand gel. Her son-in-law Matt stood on the doorstep, his eyes wide above his mask and holding out a cardboard box at arms length.

She struggled to catch what he was saying through the mask.

'This is the last but one box from the garage, I thought now you would have time to finish sorting them out.'

Matt put the box on the floor and blew her a kiss with his gloved hand. She gave him a thumbs up trying to smile with her eyes, then closed the door, wiped her hands with the gel and took the box and put it on the table.

These boxes were causing her great distress. They were from her parents' house. So many wounds that she couldn't bear to open, so many tears that she hadn't cried. So many years of pretending.

The last box she had opened had broken her heart. Forty years of letters. There was no use pretending any more how much her family had hurt her. How much she had pretended things didn't matter.

Suze's cousin Daphne had suggested a 21 Day meditation course to help her through lockdown. She'd started doing it to please Daphne and was stuck on Day five. Her task was to write a letter to someone who had hurt her badly and now she had forgiven and now thought nice things about. She had spent three days tearing up angry letters to various people who had hurt her, she thought she had forgiven them, she'd always been brought up to think six of one half a doxen of another, but somehow it wasn't working. She thought of Brian and his affair, had she forgiven him? Sometimes it bubbled to the surface, it was always there, that pain. Then there was the doctor who had stitched her insides in such a way after her emergency c-section having their daughter, Jean, that she couldn't have any more children. Then the  girls at school who had told the teachers it was Suze who had cheated, stolen some money, hidden some books, all lies to get her into trouble.Then the boxes, oh the boxes, she had found the letters and her life had unravelled.

She felt the wounds opening up, the tears falling.

Brian called out

'Hey love, shall we have a cup of tea? It's gone half past four.'

She scuttled into the bedroom and helped him into his wheelchair and swung him into the kitchen, wiping her eyes and filling the kettle with water.

'Sorry Brian I was lost in my thoughts. Look Matt has brought me another box, he said it's almost the last.'

Brian rolled his eyes,

'Oh Suze, be careful dragging all that stuff up, leave the past where it is. Look at all the good things that have happened and look at our lovely family, come on love. Anyway whatever's in that box you're over the worst. There can't be any more adoption papers. Come on love, chin up.'

His kind gentle voice brought her back to the present, eased the pain that had sprung to the surface.He was right, she should be over the worst now. She made her voice sound bright,

'You're right.' She took a deep breath. 'I love the sound of the kettle, don't you? Tell you what, I'll quickly sort out the box and then we'll watch a film.'

She held his mug of tea while he drank it, visibly relaxing as the sweet warm liquid did its magic, then put it on the table, helped him eat a biscuit and wiped away the crumbs then wheeled him in front of the fire and started sorting through the box.

This one wasn't quite as full as the others. There was a pretty musical box and she opened the lid. A ballerina twirled round to the notes of Swan lake and Brian turned round and smiled at her.

'That's why you get so emotional when you hear that music, it's your childhood peeping back at you.'

Suze wiped away a tear and put it on the dresser. then she carefully took out a tin covered in roses and opened the lid, her heart beating fast. More letters.She didn't recognize the writing. A stillness came over the room as she read the letters, her hands trembling as she took in the words of love from her birth mother. She had learned from the adoption papers that her name was Olivia and came from Cornwall.

Now she revealed the truth of Suze's birth, all those years ago, the world was very different then, Cornwall was a long way from Essex. Olivia had been fourteen when the Americans came to Cornwall. She and her friends had been dazzled by them, their accents, their uniforms, their promises. Olivia had been sent in disgrace, banished from her home to stay with Suze's parents, a childless couple in Essex, found through the church where Olivia's father was a vicar. 

Suze stopped reading and sipped her tea, she felt a bit faint. She knew what it felt like to be told you can't have children. She imagined the love that would have been poured on Olivia and her new baby.

Brian coughed, 

'Alright love, anymore skeletons in the cupboards?'

Suze tried to laugh but it turned into a sob. She carried on reading the last letter. Olivia had decided to give Suze up for adoption and go back to Cornwall to make peace with her father. She wanted to keep in touch, she loved Suze but wanted the best for her. She seemed very confused.

Suze put the letter down.

From her parents' letters Suze knew that Olivia had never arrived in Cornwall, she'd got caught up in the bombing of  London where she'd gone to meet her American lover.

Suze sighed, here she was nearly eighty and feeling like a child inside. She looked in the box to see if there was anything left, there was a birthday card wedged at the bottom. She took it out,tracing her finger over the words, 'Happy Birthday One year old.' The message inside was in her mother Heather's pretty writing, dainty and slightly curly just like her.

'To our darling daughter Suzanna, we love you so much, you are everything to us, have a long and happy life.'

The room was completely silent, Brian was perfectly still. She looked at the back of his head, she thought of all the lies he'd told her for five years during the affair. She'd forgiven that, she'd forgiven her parents, she'd forgiven the girls at school and the doctor who had probably saved her life. There was only one person she needed to forgive.

'Tell you what Brian, you know the meditation course? You know I'm having trouble writing the forgiving letter?'

Brian grunted and shrugged. She knew him well enough to know he was listening intently.

'I'm going to write it to myself. At my age I need to forgive myself.'

Her husband turned and held out his hand,

'You've nothing to forgive yourself,  come on you said something about watching a film. '

Suze jumped up and hugged him.

'

 

 

 

Japanese poems for October

 Haikus is a Japanese type of poem, 5/7/5 syllables, just three lines,

Let's have a go

October is here

The trees are yellow and red

Soon they will be bare.

 

Now we change the clocks

We have an hour more in bed

We wake with the sun

 

Eat food that is good

For your body and your soul

Wrap up warm outside

 

Read books by the fire

Plant bulbs for when the Spring comes

Watch the sunset glow

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leaf Peepers

The shop bell rang to signal the arrival of the coach load of tourists. They burst into the small store chattering and calling out to each other in excitement as they admired all the souvenirs and local produce.

Ellie had been waiting for them all morning since Linda, the tour guide, had sent a text to say they were on their way. Ellie had got to know Linda well and she looked forward to her visits. Linda had told her that she was with a new driver because the usual one, Chuck, had a sprained ankle.
This would be the last coach load of what were affectionately known as the 'Leaf Peepers' before the Winter settled in.
It had been a good season for Ellie. She had sold all the maple syrup and homemade preserves and most of the little soft toys,that her mother had made. Ellie's handmade plaids and quilts in the rich Autumn colours of ruby, amber and gold, had all sold out.
The group of tourists were soon out of the shop with their purchases and sitting in the sunshine enjoying Ellie's special hot chocolate and marshmallows.
Ellie went to join them and chat to Linda. The coach driver jumped down and helped himself to coffee. Linda introduced him as Hank. He held out his hand to Ellie and she felt her knees buckle and a tight feeling in her chest. She sprang away and they looked at each other.

In a fluster, Ellie called over her two dogs Sugar and Red. They were named after the maple trees that Ellie loved so much. This year they had been  dazzlingly beautiful, making  the New England woods yet again one of the most stunning shows on earth. The American Beech, the Mountain Ash and the Northern Red Oak were still resplendent in their Fall finery.

Ellie's father used to tell her that the nip in the September air was what told the trees to prepare for Winter. He taught her the names of all the trees and made up stories about the animals that lived in the vast woods. Ellie's father had been a Forest ranger and sometimes took her with him along the trails during her school vacation. She liked checking the books that were placed at the beginning of each trail so the rangers knew who had gone into the woods. The trees were so thick that it was impossible to find people who got lost and there were warnings everywhere about sticking to the trails.

Now both her parents helped her and her brother Sam look after the store. It had belonged to their grandparents. Sam's wife Patty was a teacher at the elementary school and came to lend a hand on her day off .
Their six year old twins Katie and Tom liked to help make the home-made molasses and blueberry muffins for the cafè.

Red and Sugar started barking  and running round in circles to let her know they were ready to take the tourists to the covered bridge.

Linda told her group some facts about the covered bridges. They had probably been built with roofs to protect the bridges from the harsh winters. Now they had become popular with romantic couples and were known locally as Kissing bridges. At this, the group , who were mainly older couples winked and nudged each other.This was the cue for photos in playfully passionate poses. One couple, from Virginia, Harold and Marion, wanted Ellie in their photo.

'You remind us of our granddaughter, honey. Have you got yourself a boyfriend? Let's have Hank in the picture too.'

Ellie felt her cheeks grow hot as Hank came to join them. What was happening to her? She was nearly forty and had given up thoughts of love a long time ago. Mother nature hadn't blessed her with a pretty face and she was totally unaware of how the kindness shining from her heart made her look quite beautiful to those who met her. She had her family, her niece and nephew, her store and her beloved mountains. She had always felt herself to be really lucky.

Hank gently brushed her cheek and then beamed at the camera. 

Linda told the group they had half an hour to explore the area before getting back on the coach.

Hank asked Ellie if she would  have another coffee with him, for the road. As they walked back to the store he took her hand. 

'This is my last trip before the winter and then I'll be working in the new hotel just ten miles away, for the skiing season. Could I come and take you dancing?'

Ellie saw Linda grinning and giving her a thumbs up.

The couple from Virginia were pointing up at the sky. Marion's face was shining with delight and Harold  came up behind her and put his arms round her. She turned towards him with the grace that must have accompanied her all through her younger years.
Ellie felt Hank's hand tighten. She closed her eyes tightly and made a wish.

'Look everybody! The first snow flake!'

Open the Door to Lady Luck

My Uncle Arthur was  a golden shower of light shining over my childhood. Coming home from school and finding him in the kitchen having a cup of tea with my mum was like a party. She would be spluttering into her tea giggling at the things he said, they looked like two children.  He was her big brother, about thirteen years older, he was born before the First world war and she was born six years after so they had had two very different childhoods, but that's another story.  

Often they would talk about horse racing, they loved horses, their conversation peppered with words like, having a flutter, odds and each way, the names of the race courses, York, Aintree, Ascot, Goodwood. My mum loved reading out the names of the horses. Uncle Arthur went to the betting shop every weekend and had a flutter. 

He sometimes placed a bet for mum even though Dad would make out he didn't approve. He thought money should be earned. My sister and I had to earn our pocket money, he even paid us threepence to scratch his back. He was a big man and we would pummel away revelling in the freshly washed smell of his shirt and the tang of his after shave and the faint hint of cigarette smoke and beer if he had been  to the pub.

Every Friday evening dad and Uncle Arthur would stop off on the way home from work at the Dashwood Arms and have a pint and Uncle Arthur would choose his horses and place his bets. Dad and Uncle Arthur were like chalk and cheese but they thought the world of each other. They addressed each other as Lord or Sir and it was a joy to be with them. Our Auntie Deidre came sometimes to have tea. Uncle Arthur said she was his stooge, her mock severity allowed him to be the funny one. Auntie Deidre would roll her eyes when mum and Uncle Arthur collapsed in laughter over the names of the horses. Once she led me out into the garden and whispered to me that brothers and sisters needed to be left alone sometimes, they needed to have a laugh and remember what it was like to be children. I liked that. I liked to think of them as children like me and my sister Susie, finding everything funny.

One Easter holiday Uncle Arthur came round and said he was going to bet on the Grand National. We knew this was at Aintree. He said it was going to be his lucky day, he could feel it in his bones. Mum got out the paper and read out the names. My sister, who was nearly thirteen and had been pestering mum to let her wear stockings instead of socks, was going through a sulky stage and didn't want to join in. Uncle Arthur looked at her, sprawled over the armchair and biting her nails.

'Let's let Susie choose the horse shall we? ' Amazingly she perked up and sauntered over to look at the paper. Mum read out some of the names. Susie peered at the paper,

'That one.' She pointed to the paper. 'Foinavon, one hundred to one.' She sat down again, a defiant look on her face.

Mum pushed the chocolate biscuits towards her, 'Oh Susie darling that's very unlikely to win, choose another one.'

Uncle Arthur made a few suggestions. 

'I think I'll have Popham Down ' he said, mum giggled like she always did,

'Ok Arthur I'll have Honey End, ' she said and handed over her money. 

'If Susie really wants this Foinavon , it's her money she's wasting.'

Susie pouted. Dad came in,

'What's going on? Are you leading my girls astray Arthur?'

'Come on Henry, it's the Grand National. Last year I won enough to buy Deidre a new handbag. It's a bit of fun. Let's open the door to Lady Luck shall we.'

Dad grinned, 'ok Lord Girling, but you'd better hurry up, the betting shop closes in an hour.'

Susie went off and came back with our pocket money that we kept in a toroise shaped money box.

'Here you are Uncle Arthur, sixpence each way on Foinavon for me and Jeanie,' she nodded her head at me and I felt truly blessed to have been included, I was totally in awe of her.

On the day of the Grand National we all sat round the telly. Mum had made a cake, it was on the table with all the plates and forks ready for teatime. Auntie Deidre had brought sandwiches, mustard and cress and salmon from a tin. She went into the garden to deadhead mum's roses. She wasn't interested in the horse racing.

Dad leaned back in his armchair with the paper over his face and his braces hanging down.

'And they're off,' shouted mum and she and Uncle Arthur started moving their fists up and down and leaning forward.

'Come on Honey End, ' shouted mum

'Come on Popham Down' shouted Uncle Arthur..

I started to try and imitate the commentator talking really fast, but then ... 

"Rutherford  has been hampered, and so has Castle Falls; Rondetto has fallen, Princeful has fallen, Norther has fallen, Kirtle Lad has fallen, The Fossa has fallen, there is a right pile up ... And now, with all this mayhem, Foinavon has gone off on his own! He's about 50, 100 yards in front of anything else!" (Description of the chaotic scene at the 23rd fence of the Grand National of 1967, by commentator Michael O'Hehir)

There was silence in the room as we stared open mouthed at the screen. A jumble of horses and then Foinavon in the lead .. and he won.

Susie jumped up and down and screamed, our old dog Droopy woke up and starting barking for the first time in years.

'He's won, he's won!! At a hundred to one:! How much have we made Jeanie? Go on you're the brain, how much.?'

Auntie Deidre came rushing in to see what the commotion was. Susie linked her arms and twirled her round, 'We've won we've won at a hundred to one.'

Auntie Deidre looked across at Uncle Arthur. He'd gone very quiet. Dad appeared from behind his paper. Mum picked up the knife to cut the cake and then put it down again.

Uncle Arthur stood up.

'I'm sorry girls, I didn't think for one moment Foinavon would win. I didn't place your bets, I'm so sorry.' He looked so forlorn and embarrassed mum stood up and put her arms round him.

Dad started laughing, 'You're lucky they didn't have much in their piggy banks. If they had washed my car this week, then you'd be sorry.' 

Susie, Auntie Deidre and me went to put our arms round mum and Uncle Arthur,

'Let's have a bundle' said dad, enveloping us all in his strong arms.

'It's your round at the Dashwood Arms next week Arthur. And we'l take all four girls and you treat the ladies to sherry, and Susie and Jeanie lemonade and crisps!'

'Well, that teaches me a lesson, and I'll never forget the Grand National of 1967' came Uncle Arthur's muffled voice from the bottom of the pile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

September Magic

 How I love September and its golden mellow light,

Still summer in the daytime, but cool and fresh at night.

The days are getting shorter, the nights are drawing in

Birds are off to Africa, the crickets cease to sing.

How I love those memories of going back to school

Seeing all my friends again , having grown so tall

Blackberries, figs and apples, pears and walnuts too

Making lots of jam and pies to see the winter through.

How I love September,  it's time to start anew

Join a class and learn a skill you really want to do,

Shall I learn a language? Russian or Chinese?

Or try to do Pilates to help my creaking knees?

All those things you want to learn if you have the chance

Martial Arts or badminton, tennis or Jazz Dance.

September is a magic month, it has a golden hue

Holding hands with summer and giving Autumn a welcome cue.

 

 

 

Rituals that Bind, Lessons for a Latin Lover

The sun was shining through the shutters and even though they were quite tightly closed the brightness of the summer day shone through. Anna turned towards Marco, putting out her hand to caress his cheek. She loved the feel, warm, unshaven and just a hint of his aftershave. He grasped her hand and kissed it and then in one brisk movement threw his lega over the side of the bed and stood up. She snuggled back under the blanket and closed her eyes, luxuriating in the warmth he had left behind him.

When they had got married over forty years ago without being aware of it they had taken on roles. He was the strict one with the children, he was the one who took care of the car, the bills. She was the one who needed more sleep, he was an early riser so he had casually and naturally taken on the role of making their morning coffee.

She loved Mediterranean mornings, the bright sun eager to enter the gaps in the shutters, the crisp, white, linen sheets in summer, the woollen blanket that was a wedding present in the winter and above all the rich tantalizing aroma of their morning espresso.

She sat up as Marco entered the room, the tray with their two cups and placed it on the nightstand. She smiled at him as he handed her the cup and then breathed in the rich dark aroma.

 

Through the years this morning ritual had bound them together. They used to talk about their parents, children, problems, their work, now they would recount funny anecdotes about the grandchildren, places they would like to go, happy memories. They had had their ups and downs, challenges and problems but still somehow were together.

Anna thought of her father and how he had always made the coffee every morning for her mother and she would wake to their quiet banter and laughter.

She turned to Marco smiling, he grinned back, the aroma of the coffee wrapped itself around them, ready to start the day.

 

 

 

 

Stories from Le Bar Marchè, Closing time

  Laurent went round his tables wiping them down and stacking up the chairs. He always enjoyed market day in the summer. The colourful clothes the tourists wore, the bright colours of the drinks they ordered,cassis, menthe, citron,, the hum of the different languages as they reached his ears,the air of excitement and expectancy that came with people on holiday, he drank it all in and felt like he'd been on a journey. He was tired now and looking forward to going home. He loved living on his own. he loved the feeling of walking into an empty flat, knowing there would be no surprises. He would find it just as clean and tidy as when he left it.He had thought of getting a cat though, that might be nice. Cats are good at looking after themselves and being on their own, like him. Only Karim was still sitting at his table. He always stayed till closing time on market day. Laurent patted him on the shoulder as he walked passed him. Karim smiled and raised his hand in  a salute. They never said much to each other but a close observer would see how much they meant to each other, would feel the bond that linked them. Karim was like a  guardian angel for Laurent. Some years ago when she was a newly trained doctor, Karim's daughter had been sent by the school to check on Laurent's brother who had been absent without notification. She had assessed the situation with an intuition beyond her years. Within no time at all Laurent's father was in a special clinic, being looked after . She then found his mother a job  in her parent's cafe giving her days a structure that they had never had and making her eat properly.Laurent and his brother had been sent to the local priests where his brother flourished, passing his Bac and going on to qualify as a teacher. It was too late for Laurent he had too many scars but he was happy with his job as a waiter at the Bar Marchè.. Both his parents were now living in assisted accommodation.. Nurses and carers were on hand to look after them as needed. There was a restaurant for visitors and once a month Laurent shared a meal with them. They didn't talk much but it was enough for Laurent that they could look like a normal family, at least to outsiders. Laurent felt he could never repay Karim and his daughter. 

 

Stories from the Bar Marché - Karim

 It was market day at the lively small town near the French Mediterranean coast. The tourists crowded round the market stalls looking for presents to take home or a pretty sundress, maybe they'd take the delicious Paella being cooked in vast pans back to their campsites and strings of garlic to hang in their kitchens to remind them of the warm sun during the Winter.

Laurent was writing the daily specials on a blackboard as Karim arrived: Omelette and Salade Niçoise and then Salted caramel ice cream the latest favourite.

The pungent smell of the spices from the stall next to the Bar Marché always took Karim back to his childhood.
 The tourists pointed to the colourful display trying to guess the names. Karim could tell them all with his eyes closed. The yellow saffron, the red pepper, the cardamom, cinnamon, each one brought before him a dish that his grandmother had made. He could see her now, crouched over the fire, stirring and testing until it tasted just right. Then she would wait for the clatter of the camel hoofs and the flapping of the tents and then she would carefully ladle her precious offerings onto the rough earthenware plates.
 He thought of his grandfather and of the tales he told him of the desert.

 'It is not what you are looking at, it is what you see,' the old man would say. 'To some, the desert is just sand, to others it is an everchanging sea of colours and moods. You must respect it. Then you will see its beauty.'

 He would take Karim to the wadi and they would lie down together looking at the stars and telling stories. Karim's favourite was of the princess who got lost in the desert and so the Sand King had thrown handfuls of diamonds into the sky so she could find her way. His grandfather taught him the names of all the stars and pointed to one that was to be Karim's special star, the brightest, to show him the way. 'Always look up at your star Karim' he would say. Apart from his grandparents Karim had no memories of his childhood. Just hiding behind his mother's robes and strong hands picking him up and then being in a strange land. When he met his wife Marika she said that was his heart protecting him so he was free to make a new life.

Laurent the waiter patted him on the shoulder and placed a steaming hot cup of coffee in front of him with a flourish and then added a freshly baked croissant. The two men smiled at each other, they never spoke much but a close observer would have noted the obvious affection between them. Karim was like a guardian angel for Laurent.
 Karim sipped his coffee and breathed deeply, his shoulders relaxing. Market day in Summer was his favourite time at Le Bar Marché. He felt you could tell so much about people from the way they behaved eating and drinking together. He was keenly aware of the dynamics between the couples, the families and the groups of friends. It was such an intimate moment. It was the families that interested him most. He loved to see the fathers enjoying the company of their wives and children, teaching the kids how to behave at the table, laughing and joking together.

Karim watched as the stallholder carefully measured out a selection of spices for a young blond woman eager to try out a new recipe. He thought of his wife and how she had struggled to reproduce the tastes and flavours of their homeland to keep their identity and remember their roots. Now she could find all she needed in the big supermarkets and local arab market. Sacks of rice and couscous, chick peas, dates and almonds. Restaurants had started serving their dishes and his wife's lamb and couscous was very popular at their own little cafè.
 

Karim caught sight of his daughter Yasmin, coming towards him, gracefully weaving her way through the crowds. He thought she looked like a dancer. A warm glow always came over him when he looked upon her lovely face. She always tried to meet him on market day, she knew where to find him and it was very near the hospital where she worked as a doctor. Laurent came out to greet her and Karim could see the gratitude on his face that glowed whenever he saw Yasmin.

'Hello papa, hello Laurent, what a beautiful day.' Yasmin took Laurent's hand and then bent to kiss her father.
'Oh that coffee smells so good, I feel better already. '

Karim and Laurent never talked about the day that Yasmin had been called to Laurent's house. She was in the ambulance team, a newly qualified doctor. She had shown a maturity beyond her years as she dealt with Laurent's drunken mother and violent father, she had taken Laurent and his brother aside and put her arms around them. She had taken charge of putting Laurent's parents in a clinic where they would be looked after, of asking the local priests to care for Laurent and his brother Jacques. It was too late for Laurent, the damage had been done, but Jacques blossomed and now worked as a dentist in Paris.

Karim thought of the day the teachers had told them that their daughter was very gifted and should try for a scholarship at the university. They hadn't really understood. It was their daughter who in her quiet gentle way had explained. And now here she was, sitting beside him and drawing admiring glances. They ordered their coffee and  sat in companionable silence. His daughter had married a fellow doctor and had a little boy called Nour, just like Karim's grandfather. Karim and Nour liked to lay on the ground together and watch the stars. Nour was more interested in the aeroplanes coming into land at the nearby airport and thought the story of the diamonds was funny. But he liked it when Karim showed him the special star and said 'if you keep looking at your star you will never lose your way'.

 

 

 

 

 

August is a Healing Month

  August is a Healing Month

August is the time when most people have a holiday from work, whether it's a staycation or travelling to see your family. For many people it's the only time thay can all be together. I wish you all a happy August and may it heal and regenerate and lay down the foundation for a happy family life.

Gaze up at the August sky

With sunshine on your face

You feel its gentle kisses

And your heart begins to race.

Memories will come flooding back

Pine trees spread their scent

Rosemary, thyme and lavender

Citrus and creme de menthe.

Martini, ice and lemonade,

Gin tonic, vin Rose

Treasure all your memories

Don't let them slide away.

Sunsine on your shoulder

Sand between your toes

where our memories go to

Noone really knows.

Buckets, spades and lilos

Are all you really need

To keep young children happy

With love to sow the seed

 

Of a happy joyous childhood

Under the August sky

Treasure every moment

Time keeps slipping by.

 

School reports and problems

Are left behind at home

A chance to heal for families

Frollicking in the foam.

 

Playing cards and laughing

squashed in a camping chair

On a dreary winter evening

You can always go back there.

 

Lying on a camp bed

Looking at the stars

Wondering which is Jupiter

Or Venus or is it Mars?

 

Wearing shorts and t shirts

Washing with a hose

Standing on a sandy beach

And burying your toes.

 

Covering your legs with sand

Becoming a mermaid

Digging to Australia

With a flimsy plastic spade.

 

Driving along a country lane

Looking for the sea

That first glimpse is magical

Sixpence for you and me

 

Cockles and whelks and mussels

Fish and chips and a walk on the pier

A Penny arcade and a dodgem car

That's impossible to steer.

Crossing the channel at sunset

Arriving in France at the break of day

Before we start our journey

Croissants and caffè au lait.

 

Picnics in a haystack

With bread and strawberry jam

Then later by the river

With bread and cheese and ham.

 

No seat belts then to strap us in

Though we raced along so fast

Heads stuck out the sun roof

With snorkels to break the blast.

 

No suntan lotion was applied

To our pale English skin

When it started to turn pink

We simply just went in

 

Looking for a shady spot

And a lolly to cool down

We never really bothered

About turning golden brown.

 

Oh I do love August

It's such a happy time

I hope you are on holiday

I hope you like my rhyme.

 

Mountains, Lakes and beaches

Rivers to explore

Waterfalls and countryside

What could we ask for more.

 

It's a happy jolly healing month

When families get together

Having fun and playing

Showing they love each other. 

thank you to my family who make my Augusts special

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lessons in Fidelity

'Revenge, vendetta, karma'

Amy spat out the words with such venom that the young men on the next table in the pub stopped their raucous chatter and turned to look at her.

Lucy put her hand on top of her sister's and tried to speak in the calming voice she had used ever since they were children and Amy suffered from nightmares. 

'There, there Amy it will be alright, I'm sure there's an explanation.' 

As always her tone of voice had the desired effect and Amy visibly relaxed, but Lucy was dismayed to see tears flowing onto the table and Amy's shoulders shaking with grief

'How could he?,' she spluttered between sobs. 'I don't understand it. What am I going to do' Help me Lucy, please.'

For the umpteenth time she took out her phone a looked at the photo of  Matt her husband- to- be barely visible behind a naked girl straddling him.

One of the lads from the table next door on his way to the gents glanced at the photo  and shouted to his mates

'Cor look at this, hey lads . Is that you babe?.

Some of them rushed across to have a look.

Amy shoved her phone in her bag and laid her head on the table. She hissed at Lucy, 'I hate men, I hate them all, I'm never going to get married. I want my revenge! I feel so humiliated.'

The boys started up a chant of a very rude song.

The publican, Jack, who was a friend of Lucy's, called out to them.,

'That's enough you lot, Aren't you booked at The Giggling Squid at 9pm? I need these tables now they've been reserved for a Hen do.'

Lucy looked at Amy in alarm. Just what she needed, not. Lucy had chosen this pub because it was far from Amy and Matt's house. Amy was so low and Lucy really wanted to console her. Being next to a party of hens would be awful Amy's hen do had been a sobre affair in a posh hotel with her mother and Nan coming along for beauty treatments. Maybe they should leave.

No sooner had the boys left the pub, with backward glances and much laughter at Amy, than a group of girls came rushing in and crowding onto the tables that Jack had prepared. They were all dressed like life size Barbie dolls, smothered in pink feather boas and bobbing, sparkly headbands. One of them was wearing a crown that said 'bride to be' and when she saw Lucy she called out,

'Oh hello Mrs. Barret, it's me Tracey.' She turned to her friends, 'She was my Art teacher, the best ever.' Tracey almost toppled over as Jack plonked down enormous jugs of Mojitos in front of her. A cheer went up and there were chants of 'Tracey, Tracey.'

'Why don't you join us!' Tracey waved the magic wand she was holding.

'Tonight I can make everyone's dreams come true.' Her friends chanted and whooped and Tracey beamed.

She then noticed Amy who had turned round to see what all the noise was, her face streaked with mascara, red and wet with tears.

Her voice softened, and she went to stand by Amy.

'Oh dear someone needs cheering up, Come over here with us. Jack we need more Mojitos and two more chairs.'

She pulled Amy and Lucy across and they found themselves surrounded by pink feathers and sequins and two glasses of Mojitos in front of them. They were both too stunned to react.

One of the girls stood up and held up her glass, she took out a leaf of mint, held it under her nose, and breathing in, she turned to the girls,

'Right, everyone my name is Chantelle. The first lesson is to engage all your senses and to do that we will start with smells, take your mint and breathe in its aroma.'

With much giggling the girls all copied Chantelle, breathing in and exchanging mischievous glances.

The girl sitting next to Lucy whispered in her ear,

 'I'm Tracey's sister. It was my idea to have a stripper giving us lessons.' 

She giggled and took a gulp of the Mojito.

Tracey stood up,

'Chantelle before you start let's stop those tears of this lovely lady here.'

Everyone turned to look at Amy who was quietly sobbing over her drink. Lucy looked a bit dazed.

Chantelle sat down, gently she held out her hand to Amy.

'You are right Tracey. What is causing this unhappiness my friend? 

Without a word Amy handed over her phone, the girls crowded round to look at the photo.

There were gasps and giggles. Amy took a deep breath,

'It's my fiance on his stag do. He's only ever been interested in football and fishing,I don't understand it, I feel sick, the wedding is next week and I don't know what to do.' She started crying again

Chantelle took the phone and using her thumb and forefinger enlarged the photo over the girl's bottom.There was a butterfly tattoo on one butt cheek. The girls collapsed in giggles but Chantelle spoke with the solemnity of a lawyer,

'This girl is wearing a thong, look, you can see the red lace. She looks like she is wondering what to cook for supper. Your boyfriend looks bored, you can tell by his eyelids he is probably thinking about the football. Who sent you this photo?

There was silence as the girls gazed at Chantelle enraptured. Lucy reached for Amy's hand under the table and squeezed it tight and Amy gulped then stuttered,

'..I. don't know.. it says unknown not among my contacts.'

Chantelle threw back her head and laughed.

'Ha! Ha! I knew it! It's the oldest trick in the book. Some people just love to make trouble. Your boyfriend was probably very drunk and one of his so called friends thought he would make trouble and spoil your happiness. Human nature is very strange. In my work I have got to know so much good and bad. Please delete that photo from your phone. Please never mention it to your boyfriend ever.'

There was complete silence. Jack came up with more Mojitos,

'Are you ladies alright. It's very quiet here for a Hen do.'

Tracey clapped her hands,

'Bravo Chantelle! ' she turned to Amy and grinned. ' Has that made you feel better ? OMG I  wonder what Paul's doing on his Stag night? Perhaps I ought to ring him..' She took out her phone but Chantelle waved it away,

'No phones, no photos, no questions, you are all young, you are all beautiful. Now I will start my lesson, are you all ready.'' She pointed to Amy,

'Go to the bathroom and fix your make up and dry your eyes. When you come back we will start. A bride must have something old, something borrowed and something blue, right?'

Lucy watched in amazement as Amy obeyed Chantelle and fairly skipped off to the bathroom, reappearing soon after with something that looked almost like a smile on her face.

The girls gathered round Chantelle as she took out a large box and placed it on the table.

She opened the lid and took out various items. A maid's cap, a feather duster, a lot of sheer black lace and feather boas.  She asked the girls to choose what appealed to them most.

The girls crowded round and Tracey grabbed a pretty pink bodice and held it up against her.  Amy gently picked.up a pale blue lacy thong and beamed at Lucy,

'I think I've found my something blue.' She wriggled her hips provocatively and pouted, 'I'll make sure Matt never looks at another woman again.'

Lucy sighed and hugged her sister,

' Oh Amy that sounds much better than any revenge...'

 

 

 

 

My Dad in a nutshell

If you were still here, you'd be one hundred and one, 

You'd be amazed to have lived so long, 

We would be thankful that you were still here, 

Your smiling face bringing so much cheer, 

Those twinkling eyes full of mischief and fun

Telling us how much you loved our mum, 

Putting things in perspective and riding the storm 

Winking at anyone looking forlorn,

A smile, a wave,a cheeky grin 

Your great big heart invites everyone in. 

Tartan trousers, yellow braces, a dicky bow tie.

Look on the bright side, never tell a lie,

 Don't cross swords with anyone you meet.-

 In the office, at home or in the street, 

Keep wise counsel. You've got a lot to learn 

Never buy anything you didn't earn, 

Speak nicely, speak kindly, wake up with a smile,

 Good manners and kindness never go out of style. 

You can't put old heads on young shoulders of course 

Never raise your voice so you become hoarse 

Protect me from my friends because my enemies I see

 They're the ones who don't like me

 But it's YOUR heart that matters and the love that's within 

You don't go to Heaven for another person's sin 

Cool, calm and collected is excellent advice

 But really it's enough to just be nice,

 Be discerning, be discrete,

 don't tell everything to everyone you meet,

 Clean your shoes and clean your car

 Bring joy and sunshine wherever you are,

 An old Eastern custom at the table is good,

 Quiet conversation and tasty food,

 A car's a lethal weapon you know, 

Be like me, drive nice and slow.

Simmer down and lighten up,

study hard and don't give up,

A meal ticket is what you need, 

it's the best way to be free

 To enjoy life and help each other

 Remember always look after your brother,

 Live a long happy life is the nicest wish

 But whatever you do with all of this -

 live each day Take it in your stride

 and always make sure You live your life WIDE

Deidre's Good Deeds

The salon was very busy and Deidre had been so lucky to get an appointment. There'd been a cancellation because Mrs. Brown from the Post Office had had a fall. Katya the young stylist had looked a bit taken aback when Deidre had exclaimed how lucky that was. Deidre hadn't noticed and graciously accepted her cup of coffee and magazine and when Katya said would she like an Indian head massage and a hand massage Deidre nodded eagerly.  She thought it was kind to accept these offers because then she could give tips to all the young girls.

Katya put down the hot hair brush and handed Deidre a mirror so she could inspect the back of her head.

'Lovely Katya, ' she sighed, ' it looks so glossy and I love the colour.' 

Katya smiled at Deidre's reflection in the mirror,

'I'm glad you like it Mrs. Harris, I'm moving back to Poland next week. It's been a pleasure to meet you.'

Deidre put on a sad face, she was hearing this a lot lately. Since Brexit so many were going back to their own countries. Well, she thought, it's good they realize that Britain isn't the Promised Land. She was so lucky to have been born in England, to live in this pretty town, to have beautiful clever children and grandchildren. She stood up and said in a loud voice, 

'Show me where the boxes are for the tips please Katya' and in a stage whisper, 'I'll give you a bit extra to help you make a new start.''

Katya leaned forward, her long blonde hair swishing and gleaming in the salon lights, her turquoise blue eyes glistening with tears, she whispered back,

'My boyfriend wants to go back to Poland, he misses his family, he has asked me to marry him and we are going to live in a pretty village on the Vistula, I will send postcards.'

She put the boxes for the tips on the counter and Deidre took out her purse and made a show of dropping coins in all the boxes for the girls who had dealt with her. She swept out of the salon into the bright sunshine and tilted her head up tossing her hair back and forth.She felt so lucky, particularly lucky today, her dear husband Tom was taking her for a special lunch to celebrate their new hybrid car.

They really were doing their bit for the environment. They were good people. She was lucky. She thought how everyone in the town must see her as lucky, good, kind and gracious. That was how she was seen, she was sure. She always gave generously when people came to the door asking for contributions to the village fête or the winter party or whatever. Her pilates classes had made it possible for her to bend down discretely and toss coins in front of the homeless people in the town. She never could understand why their benefits weren't enough. It was a mystery with all the taxes Tom paid.

She walked down the Hight Street thinking about what to wear at her dinner party on Saturday. Outside the supermarket was the young man handing out the Big Issue. She always gave him something and liked to say to her friends that it made no difference to her but a lot to him. She reached for her purse but then remembered she had given all her loose cash to the girls in the hairdressers. She could nip into the supermarket, buy something and break into a £20 pound note and come out and give him the change. Planning the menu for the dinner party she had seen a recipe for vodka and lemon sorbet which sounded a bit daring and fresh. They never had vodka in the house, Tom was a wine connoisseur. She slipped into the supermarket not bothering with a basket or trolley and made her way to the liquor aisle. 

As she was studying the bottles she saw Tom's favourite Champagne on the top shelf. She grabbed the nearest bottle of vodka and reached up for the champagne.They had lots to celebrate.

There was a tap on her shoulder and she turned to see  Anne from her Bridge club,

'I thought it was you Deidre, I'm collecting for Samantha's sixtieth, we thought £10 each is that ok.?

Deidre held up her large leather shopper and fumbled inside for her purse, taking out a £10 note she waved it at Anne,

'Here you are, if you need any more let me know.'

Anne grabbed the note and turned away with a cheery wave.

Deidre followed her to the check out. She placed the vodka on the belt next to Anne's baguette and cherry jam. Anne raised her eyebrows and placed a divider between their purchases. When it was Deidre's turn she was pleased to see she when she checked her change that she had just enough coins for the Big Issue chap and kept them in her hand. As she stepped away from the check out an alarm went off and everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at her. Anne turned back. The cashier pressed a button under her till and a tall young man in uniform appeared.

Deidre's blood went cold and she started to shake.

'It's a mistake, it's not me,' She looked at the girl behind the till, pleading, 'Did you forget to take something off?'

She could hear someone talking to Anne, saying in a loud voice, 'Alcoholics always drink vodka, it doesn't leave a smell' Anne was nodding and clutching her baguette in self defence.

The Store manager glared at Deidre,

 'Please can I inspect your shopper?' 

It wasn't really a question and he snatched it from Deidre and took out the bottle of Champagne, holding it up in a triumphant pose for all to see. Deidre laughed in relief, 'Oh silly me, I must have put it in my bag by mistake, I always have a trolley but I only wanted the vodka to make a lemon sorbet. The champagne's for my husband, It's was juts a mistake. I'm so sorry.'

She looked round at the spectators, laughing and shrugging her shoulders, 

'It could happen to any of us,' when she saw the grim expression on their faces she turned back to Anne, 'Couldn't it Anne?'

Anne pursed her lips. The Store manager  clapped his hands, 

'You'd better come to my office', 'Everyone the show is over. 'Deidre fought to stop her tears, she wanted Tom, she wanted to go home. Just then someone rushed up to the check out, tossing a few sandwiches and a yoghurt in front of the cashier, who had been filing her nails and enjoying the drama.

It was Katya,  She grinned at Deidre and then stopped as she took in the situation. She looked at the Store manager who explained what had happened. When Katya spoke her voice was gentle and filled with so much kindness that Deidre felt like she had been enveloped in a warm embrace.

'This is ridiculous, you should be ashamed of yourselves.' She turned to all the people who were standing around spellbound by the events. Anne took a step back.

Katya carried on,

'This woman is my friend, she is a well respected generous person, how dare you all embarrass her like this. Whatever has she done it's a mistake.'

She put her arm round Deidre, 'Come Mrs. Harris we will go to my boyfriend's office, he is the store Manager, Andre.' 

Andre called out to all the customers.

'Right everybody I am sorry it was my mistake, this lady deserves an apology, I will make it my business to see this happens. Good day.'

There was a lot of mumbling and Anne hurried away eager to tell the Bridge club her version before Deidre had a chance.

In Andre's office Deidre was sipping at a cup of tea and nibbling on a chocolate Hob nob, feeling relief flooding through her. She was so lucky to have given Katya a big tip and she was so lucky that Katya had come to buy her lunch right then and she was so lucky that  her boyfriend was the Store manager. She wasn't quite so lucky that Anne had been at the supermarket and she didn't want to make lemon and vodka sorbet after all.

 

 

 

'

Maggie's second chance

 

Maggie watched the bride and her father posing for photographs by the little gate outside the church yard. The bridesmaids clambered out of their car, holding their long midnight- blue dresses rather ineptly to stop them trailing in the puddles. She smiled at them and wished them luck and then stayed waiting by the gate as they all walked towards the church door ready to march down the aisle.

Still there was no sign of her granddaughter. It was the wedding of Lucy's first boyfriend and she had asked her grandmother to come and give her some support. Maggie sighed with relief as a smart red mini with a black roof swerved into the little close and screeched to a halt by Maggie's feet making her jump.

 'Lucy, where have you been? Look, you go on in and I'll park the car for you'.

In one fluid movement Lucy leapt out of the car, grabbed her hat from the back seat, plonked it on her head and gave her grandmother a resounding kiss.

 'Oh thanks Gran! You're my saviour, as always'.

 Maggie watched her granddaughter sprint down the church path and disappear into the church. Her heart contracted painfully with the immense love she felt for her. This fierce love had taken her by surprise nearly twenty years ago and still she marveled at how intense these feelings were. 

Lucy's dad, Michael, Maggie's only child, had always been a joy for her, but somehow she had expected that. He had been the result of a one-night stand in her first term at Teachers Training college. He had been visiting a friend and had cleared off without trace when she had tearfully told him that she was pregnant. She had only been eighteen, and at first had been terrified of her parents' reaction.
 They had been so proud of her when she got her place at college but they had comforted her and stood by her loyally. 

'It's no use crying over spilt milk' her mum had said, putting her arms round Maggie. 'Everyone makes their own bed and then they have to lie in it.'

Maggie and her mum had collapsed in a heap of giggles then. After that it was just a matter of welcoming baby Michael and bringing him up as best she could with her mum and dad's help. 

They had had Maggie late in life and were both already retired when Maggie was in her teens. They were quite happy to make a warm home for Michael while Maggie carried on with her Teacher's training and then made a career as a teacher. As time went by it was Michael that helped her look after her ageing parents. He repaid all their love and care tenfold. 

Sadly they hadn't been around to meet Elaine, the fiery Scot's lass who had stolen Michael's heart and made him so happy, or witness the birth of Lucy and see her growing up from a beautiful adorable baby to a stunning young woman. 

Maggie shook herself from her reverie, she had to park Lucy's car. She drove off looking for a space and found one just by the new cake shop. She had gone there with Elaine and Lucy and treated them to cappuccino and carrot cake on the opening day.

The owner was a young hard working woman called Ellie who had been really friendly and given them chocolates to celebrate the opening. As Maggie was locking the car she noticed Lucy's mobile phone on the passenger seat, it started ringing so she answered it thinking it might be Michael or Elaine, who were on holiday in Majorca.

'Hello gorgeous, I'll come round this evening, Ellie's going to a spa with her friends'. 

Maggie quickly put the phone down, her hands shaking. Surely Ellie was the owner of the new café, that must have been her husband. What could he want with Lucy and why would he call her gorgeous?

The church was packed and Maggie slunk into the first pew she came to just as the congregation started a rousing chorus of 'Give me love in my heart.' She could see Lucy standing next to David Oakley, the owner of the Cycle shop in the High Street. Lucy was friends with David's son Greg, and  she had told Maggie that on the eve of David's Silver Wedding Anniversary he had discovered that his wife  was leaving him for someone else. He had been planning a surprise trip to New York and  Lucy said that he went anyway with Greg. 

Marriage was a mystery to Maggie, she didn't understand how people could want to hurt someone they had chosen to spend their life with.

The hymn ended and the bridal party came out of the vestry and the triumphant wedding march started up. Everybody filed out after the bride and groom and the bells rang out joyfully. Maggie joined Lucy and they  went to congratulate the happy couple.

Geoff, the groom put out his hand,

'Oh Lucy, I'm so glad you  came, and with your glamorous granny too. I hope you are coming to the reception!'

  He was clutching Caroline his new wife, to him and she smiled at them.
'Yes Lucy do come, you know you were Geoff's first true love, don't you? The first cut is the deepest and all that'.

Lucy kissed them both and pulled Maggie to one side.

'Please come Gran, 'I'll feel a lot better if you're there. I am really over him and everything, it's just that he was my first love and it seems like the end of something, I feel a bit old'.
Maggie glanced at her beautiful granddaughter who just seemed to radiate youth and grace. She laughed and took her hand.
' Come on you old fogey, let's go and drink to the bride and groom.'

'Oh Gran I'll just go and see if I left my phone in the car.' Lucy ran off and soon was walking back with the phone glued to her ear and a brilliant smile on her face. Maggie's heart sank, what was going on?
The reception was in the grounds of a local hotel by the river. The moment Maggie and Lucy arrived waiters appeared offering drinks and they started to mingle among the guests.
'Who were you talking to Lucy? 'Maggie gently probed.
'No-one'. came the curt answer. Maggie felt stung. Her granddaughter had never spoken to her like that before.
Just then David Oakley came up to her and raised his glass. 'You're looking very charming, Maggie, here's to your good health'. Maggie chinked her glass back and smiled at him.
'I expect you've heard about Nicky leaving me,' he continued. 'It was a terrible shock. I suppose that's the danger when you marry a much younger woman. I really feel more sorry for Greg. He's only seventeen and adored his mother. He really resents her now and doesn't even want to see her.'
Fuelled by the champagne, the teacher inside Maggie spoke out. 'You must encourage him to see her.The adult world is confusing to young people but it is very important that he knows his mother loves him and  that you are both there for him. These teenage years are very delicate. If he sees that you have forgiven Nicky and wish her well then he will come through this all the stronger.'
Too late Maggie saw the hurt look on David Oakley's face.
'I'm sorry I spoke out of turn', she hastily apologized. 'Please forgive me. It's just that I have seen so many cases where parents separate and the children take sides. I always tell parents that if they love their children they should keep their relationship as harmonious as possible. I am speaking as a teacher not as a parent and of course I don't know what it feels like to be betrayed like that. It must be awful for you'.
David Oakley's shoulders visibly relaxed and his face cleared. 'You're right and thank you for that advice. You are the first person who has had the courage to tell me that. Everyone else treats me like a victim and feels sorry for me.'
The waiter offered them sausage rolls and mini pizzas and they stood eating them in companionable silence. Just then Lucy rushed past in tears. Maggie glanced at David, he took her glass from her and gave her a nod to follow her granddaughter.
When Maggie caught up with her she took Lucy in her arms and gently sat her down on one of the plush armchairs. Lucy cried on Maggie's shoulder with heart wrenching sobs. As she stroked her granddaughter's soft, shiny hair she breathed in the smell of apple shampoo and thought of the little girl she had once been. Where had the years gone? How had she grown up so quickly?
'Oh Lucy, when you were a little girl I could make you laugh so easily and a hug would always make things right. Whatever 's the matter darling?'.
'Oh Gran, you could never understand' sobbed Lucy.' you don't know what passion is. You just dedicated your life to two old people and my dad'.
Maggie was shocked. Is that how Lucy saw her? What about all the fun they'd had? The happy years of family parties? Passion wasn't just confined to sex surely? Maggie had had a few admirers and her parents had encouraged her to look for someone special, but no man she met had wanted to take on the whole package of two elderly parents and a single mother and Maggie had thrown all her passion into her teaching and her family. Part of her thought she didn't deserve happiness with a man, that romance and exciting relationships were something that happened to other people. She'd become a grandmother when she was just forty five and that had seemed enough for her.
Maggie took a deep breath, ‘Is this anything to do with Ellie the owner of the new café?’ she asked.
Lucy looked up abruptly, ‘How do you know? Who told you? Does Mum know?.. Anyway there's nothing to know now, it's all over before it had even begun.’ She sounded frightened and looked very young.
Maggie stroked her hair, ‘I'm your grandmother, that's enough people to know. Now why would a beautiful young girl like you mess around with a married man?’
‘I haven't done anything wrong, it's him that's married, not me’, Lucy was defiant.
‘That's the easiest way to clear your conscience my treasure, but anything that hurts someone else can't be right can it?’ Maggie hugged her tight.
 A memory came flooding back to her, bitter-sweet, of a time when the new doctor, whose wife was expecting twins, had come to visit her parents and had taken her aside.
‘You must be finding this very hard,' he  had said. ‘two old people and a young son and no man around. Any time you need something let me know, ok.’
She had caught the hidden meaning by the way he looked at her. Oh, the sweet temptation of a male body that wanted hers, the raw smell of his unshaven skin, Maggie had felt her legs buckle. Then she had glanced at her parents sitting side by side in their wheelchairs, their gnarled hands touching, their faces looking at her with trust and love.
‘Thank you’, she said ‘It was kind of you to come out this evening, but we'll be fine now, thank you.’
She had shut the front door with a bang and gone back into the bedroom. ‘Come on let's watch some Comedy Gold, I think there's 'Dad's Army' on now’.
Lucy was watching her. ‘Gran you won't tell mum and dad will you? I think I got carried away, what with Geoff getting married, I just got too easily flattered by the attention. I'm so sorry.’
 She burst into tears again but just then David Oakley appeared bearing a tray with three glasses of champagne and some delicious looking savoury quiches.
‘Can I join the party?’ his eyes smiled at them both. ‘There's going to be a live band soon and I'd love the first dance.’
Lucy stood up and straightened her dress. I'm off to freshen up and then I'll join you both on the dance floor. The best man looks quite nice doesn't he?’
David Oakley held out his hand to pull Maggie up. She stumbled into his arms and lay her head on his shoulder. An unfamiliar sensation swept through her. Something like relief mingled with happiness and a feeling that she was no longer alone. She knew without any doubt that her parents would have approved of David.