Sweet Satisfaction (Purple UGC Winner 2014)

Sweet Satisfaction - Sixty-One

Sixty-One

St Tudy, Cornwall, England

We had stepped off the train at Bodmin and were greeted by a heavy downpour of rain and an angry collection of propaganda surrounding us telling us WOMEN OF BRITAIN SAY “GO!” Did we really, I thought, stumbling off the platform in the near darkness, clothes soaked through and sticking uncomfortably, tired and exhausted. Were we going to keep sending our men out to ‘the front’ as they called it, only for them to get shot down?

I turned my thoughts towards the Englewoods- would there still remain animosity between them and Mother? What state would my grandmother be in if she was stabbed? Would she, if I dared think it, even live?

Mother put her suitcase down, one hand on her belly, the other on her back, teeth gritted.

“I’ll take that for yer, miss.” A little girl with plaits suddenly darted forward and snatched up the suitcase, looking up at Mother.

“I’m Sandy Ruskin, miss. Yer papa did tell yer I’d be ‘ere, right?”

Without waiting for a reply, she started striding ahead to a horse and cart stationary on the other side of the road. She jumped up onto the cart, hands on hips.

“What yer waitin’ for then?” Mary and Emma looked as bewildered as I did. Was this girl of say, eight, dressed like a pirate in a large, billowing white blouse, pantaloons and buckled boots going to steer a horse and cart around eight miles to the little village in the near darkness?

“Miracles never cease,” Mary muttered, but as I listened to her and Emma’s further conversation, it was about a young girl wearing trousers and not a pinafore as she should do. Goodness, this was the country; skirts and slippers would be muddied within seconds!

*****

The journey was, in Sandy’s words, ‘extreme exciting’. She took a thrill from cantering wildly down the narrow lanes. Mother, Mary, Emma and I did a lot of shrieking, as we jerked around corners, clutching onto the side of the cart. Twiggy fingers snagged at our sodden clothes and hats, and our cheeks were pink from the cold and breathless exhilaration. I was quite concerned for the baby, with all the jiggling and bumping.

“Miss,” Sandy said quietly, hands red from clenching the reins, “We’re ‘ere.”

*****

My heart was thumping as we trooped up the garden path, shivering. What reaction were we going to have? The house itself was very long, with plants growing up the white walls. I reached out for Mary’s cold, numb hand as the post-box-red door slowly swung open.

The man at the door was very tall and portly, with a grey beard. I took in a sharp breath, as the rain kept on cascading behind me. He smiled,

“Come here, my little brown-eyed Bella.” He opened his arms and Mother hurled herself at him, sobbing into his navy, fleecy jumper.

“How can you forgive me? I am a wicked, wicked daughter. But how is Mother?”

“Time my dear, time. We all make mistakes, but there is no point hating your own family. And she could be better, of course.” He looked up. Something rose in my chest, and Mary and I stepped forward shyly to join them. I caught a flash of Emma standing with all the luggage as Sandy unloaded it, looking strangely lost and alone, the rain sliding down her face like tears.

*****

Mother was shaking with so much excitement that I had to undo the buttons on her blouse for her. Her eyes were shining, replacing the dull look that had haunted her for most of this year.

“He forgives me, he forgives me,” she whispered over and over like a child.

I was quite relieved that Grandfather had been so nice to us. He had given us Mother’s old room to sleep in, which she had shared with her sister Caroline, which is where we currently were getting changed into dry woollen stockings and shawls to keep us warm. Mother’s old room was stuffed with her childhood: there was a wooden rocking horse, a tin of marbles, a row of penny toys, and a diablo with only one string. On the highest shelf was a very worn teddy bear with a crooked smile.

“Did you leave everything behind when you married Father?” I asked softly.

“Yes,” Mother replied, taking the teddy bear down from the shelf and holding it to her closely. Apart from your diaries, I thought to myself.

“Have you all changed out of your wet clothes?” Grandfather poked his head around the door. We nodded. It felt strange to call him Grandfather, when I barely knew him.

“You want to see your Mother, don’t you, Bella? I’ll get Sandy to cook you all something. Would you like to help?” He turned to Emma, who flushed, and said she had some sewing to do, probably put out that she had been mistaken for a kitchen maid.

“Girls, would you mind going ahead to tell your grandmother? Seeing Bella… and pregnant… might be a bit of a shock.” Mary and I nodded, and looked at each other.

Together, we turned the handle of our grandmother’s bedroom door.