Never before had the young woman been allowed to see the family she'd left behind. All she wanted was to let them know she was safe and being well cared for. Today was going to be her first contact. She walked down the aisle of the near empty church...
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Mary had given Wendy her bath and now the little girl was in her pyjamas and fluffy pink dressing gown snuggled up to her father on his armchair. They had a new television, but it remained switched off. Neither Mary nor James wanted the peace of the evening disturbed. They were still shaken by the day's events and wanted an evening of calm and cosiness to comfort them all. When Wendy had asked for the dolly, James hadn't mentioned the damage to it, but instead had told her that the dolly wasn't very well at the moment, and needed to be left alone to rest. Wendy had started to cry at this. To distract her, James had went back into the cabinet and pulled out a tattered old brown card bound book. Wendy's tears gave way to curiosity. And so it was that James and his little girl were now slowly looking through the old family photograph album together.
"And who's that?" asked Wendy, pointing enthusiastically at one of the old photos.
"That's you're grand-, no, great grandparents, my grandparents," replied James, enjoying the wonder in his daughter's eyes as he revealed her family to her.
They turned another page of the album together.
"Aw! And who's that?"
James paused momentarily. "That's your grandparents, my parents. And, can you guess who the little boy is who is standing in front of them, looking really cheeky?"
"Is that you Daddy?"
"Bingo!" James exclaimed, giving his daughter a little congratulatory hug.
"My mummy had a very beautiful name," said James. He then whispered the next words in Wendy's ear, "It was ... Wendy!"
Wendy's little face lit up, "That's my name Daddy!" she said excitedly.
Aware that the clicking of Mary's knitting needles had stopped, James looked across at her sitting in the other armchair. They looked deep into each other's eyes for the first time since the events of the afternoon. Their shared look communicated their love for this innocent little girl. And their love for each other.
"That's right sweetheart," said James quietly, and kissed Wendy's head.
James and little Wendy looked closely at the picture of him and his parents. James remembered when it was taken as if it were yesterday. His mother's friend, Mrs Coleridge from across the street, had taken it. It had been a lovely warm day. James remembered how much he'd loved living there, that draughty old Liverpool house. Those houses are all away now, he thought. The smile of pleasant nostalgia seeped away from his face. He picked at the edge of the page...
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...The thirteen year old boy turned the page of the photograph album. James sat close to his mother on an old sofa. Their only light was provided by a candle on an ornamental pewter candlestick on the small table in front of them. James stared quizzically at the photograph before him. It was a very faded photograph of a young woman in Edwardian clothes, feeding birds in a garden.
