Dear Diary,
Oh, what a relief! But all I can think about now is sleep. I haven’t had a night this intense in ages I stretched my arms out as far as theyd go, rising up on tiptoes to shake out my fatigue.
Youre telling me! That old gent was a handful! Sally yawned, rubbing her eyes. I just want to go home. Although its not as if Ill get a wink anyway, at least I can freshen up a bit.
Why not? I asked absent-mindedly, rummaging in my handbag for a cigarette.
Toms off on business. Mother-in-laws at her cottage for the week. So, its just me and the kids.
I caught Sally glancing sidelong at me as I fumbled with my lighter. She didnt say anything, but I knew shed noticedafter nearly three months off, Id caved in and lit up. Who could blame me? It wasnt long ago Grandad passed, the man whod raised me.
He was ill for years, that slow suffering: I did everything I could to help him, even took out a loan to get him seen by consultants in London. They gave him barely a month, but he lasted two years. You cant break men like that. He was a submariner, after all. And for him, I was the light in the windowhow could he go?
To whom would I leave my girl? he used to say. How could I?
Sally helped me look after him near the end; she saw the bond between usso strong it could fill up the whole world. There were only two of us in the family, but it felt like enough love for everyone.
Sally knew all of my history, of coursehow could she not? Wed lived next door to each other since we were five. My mum and dad sold up and moved next door to Grandad. Thats when Sallys mum first invited me over, before she knew anything about us, and left us girls playing in the sitting room.
I remember our first meeting so clearly. Back then, I was a grumpy, silent thing. Sally tried to draw me out, asking about my mum and dad, but I said nothing. I just sat at her little table, surrounded by crayons, and stared at the floor.
Sally soon gave up and went back to building her block castle. I lost myself staring out the window for a moment, but when I looked roundhorror! My new German dollstraight from my fathers last business triphad half her silky, ash-blonde hair chopped off. Sally snipped away, tongue sticking out in concentration.
What have you done?! Sally yelled, grabbing for the scissors. Her mum came running from the kitchen at the commotion.
Girls!
I refused to answer for what Id done. I just sat there and cried silently until Grandad came to fetch me.
Im so sorry! he said, comforting Sally and her mother. Ill get you another doll, Sally. Just the same.
You cant! Sally wailed, clutching her poor mutilated doll. Dad got her for me!
Sally didnt really cry over the doll itself. She was upset because her mum hadnt told me offwhenever Sally did something wrong, it was always instant scolding. But her mum just watched me, lost in thought.
Sally adored her mum, but she knew she was strict: raising Sally was her lifes purpose, shed always saidno greater duty. Sally didnt understand why it didnt seem her mother had anything else more important, but just then, her mum only stroked my head gently, talking with Grandad as if I werent there.
After Grandad took me home, Sallys mum dried her tears with a firm brisknessWash your hands! Come eat, Ive made pancakes. It worked like magicSallys mums pancakes were a rare and sacred treat.
Later, over cocoa, Sally asked, Mum? Why are you sad? Sallys mum sighed and set the last plate to dry. Darling, did Lucy hurt your feelings?
She wouldnt talk to me. And she ruined my doll!
It isnt your fault. She doesnt talk to anyone, not even her Grandad. Shes hurting. Shes lost both her parents, Sally.
Sally frowned. But where did they go?
There was an accident, darling. Lucy slept in the back seat and survived, but her parents Sally, dont be angry with her. She just hurts inside.
Sally imagined her own mum gone, riding in a car with Dadwhat would she do? She slipped off her chair and hugged her mum so tightly she squeaked in pain as Sallys fingers clutched at her hair.
Im here, my sunshine, her mum soothed. Im with you.
They sat like that, whispering nothings until Sally broke away and left the room with her wounded doll and scissors.
Mum, may I borrow your magazine? Sally asked.
Bewildered but obliging, her mum handed her the latest *Good Housekeeping*. Sally marched next door, surprising Grandad, who let her pass without comment as Sally found Lucy in the bedroom.
Here, she said, thrusting her half-bald doll into Lucys hands. She spread out the magazine and pointed at a glamorous model on the page.
Thats it! You wanted her hair like this, didnt you? Lets finish it properly then!
Lucys eyes widened, but she nodded, and together they carried on. Forgottenthe earlier hurt, the awkwardnessand as the adults peered through the doorway, neither of us noticed their sneaked, tearful smiles.
Thats how we became friendsmyself and Sally.
The doll remained in Sallys flat even after all those yearsa trophy in a dazzling red hat (fashioned by Lucy, of course), perched right between the table and the fridge. Every time Lucy dropped in for tea, shed tease, Want to buy her a wig?
No way! Sally would bark, handing Lucy a nearly bucket-sized mug of green tea. Drink up, you guzzler. And leave our past alone!
Lucy she stood by me when Mum died. I was five months pregnant, and they didnt want me to know. But Tom, my husband, broke the news so gently, then ran next door for Lucy. No stranger could have soothed me, but Lucy held me all night, rocking me like a child.
Nat, your babys upset too, shed murmur. Come on, lets calm down. Aunt Helen wouldve told you offDont you go ruining your childs health! Someone will have to fix it later!
But shell never meet the baby I sobbed.
She knew, Nat. She knew. So lets not upset her, shall we?
I named my firstborn after my mumHelenand my second daughter after Lucy.
Ive got my very own Lucy now! I joked, cradling my tiny, wailing girl.
Shes not a Lucy, shes a Millie, Lucy corrected, cuddling her as her godmother. Look at those lashes! Get the brooms ready, mumyoull need them for sweeping schoolboys away!
Lucy had no family left after Grandad died. But she never saw herself as aloneshe had my children, and she doted on them, spending far too much on gifts. Id scold: Buy yourself something for once! Ill never marry you off if you dont make an effort!
No need, shed wink. Ive done marriage, got the T-shirt, nothing there worth bothering about!
Lucys marriage had been brief and bewildering. That charming young doctor, Oliver, arrived at the hospital and swept everyone off their feetor so it seemed. He proposed after a few whirlwind months.
She only said yes for the flatshe lives alone! came the malicious whispering. Lucy ignored itwhat did gossip matter when she thought she was happy?
The joy didnt last. Soon, Lucy noticed thingsthe house in a mess, strange perfumes, her dressing gown not where she left it. On confronting Oliver, hed just kiss her nose: You’ve got an imagination, love. Its only you for me!
Then one night Lucy found a pair of vivid red lace knickers in her pocket that she certainly didnt own. Oliver dithered, but Lucy burst out laughing, flinging the offending garment onto the lampshade.
I hope they bring me some luck, she giggled. Get yourself gone when I get home from work!
I welcomed her with a cup of camomile and said: Sleep first, talk later.
Later, standing in her flat, we eyed the red knickers dangling from the lampshade. I remember reading somewherered knickers hung up bring you luck!
Theyre not mine though.
According to the rulesthey should be!
So Ive given some random woman good fortune while hanging a strangers pants in my house?!
We both laughed so hard Tom came in, alarmed: Do you need a drink, girls? Or a bucket of water?
Lucy didnt mope over Oliver for long. If hed never loved her, what was to miss? As Grandad used to say, You were on separate ships anyway.
It was different for Grandad and Gran. I only knew her from stories and the faded photograph with the long plait in Grandad’s studyhis beloved Zina. She kept me alive, Lucy. Her prayers carried me home. When she went, a piece of me went too. But you brought me back.
I could only brush away the thought, scrubbing the flat and muttering, Soft-hearted, Grandad? Not anymore!
As half a year went by I started to worryLucy seemed like the silent girl from years before, quietly cutting away at sorrow, unable to shake it off.
Then, one exhausting night shift, when an old man was brought inhe looked so much like Grandad that Lucy turned deathly pale. She nearly lost it, but I steadied her: Donthe needs us! He wont make it otherwise.
He did survive, but only with coaxing and care. Ive seen plenty at the hospitalpeople who just give up, no matter how strong they look. The will to live makes all the difference.
I remember old ladies with heart traces off the charts, whod refuse to die just to see their husbands every morning, standing at the foot of the bed with a steaming flask of broth.
We strolled home afterwards, storm clouds looming again. Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin when a huge, scruffy dog emerged from the hedge.
Mum I froze, panic flooding me. Ive been terrified of dogs since I was little.
Lucy dashed in front of me, hands out: Oi! Off you go, Marmaduke!
The dog only cocked its comical head and sat down, one ear flopped and the other pricked, giant paws planted.
His masters voice Lucy smirked, digging in her bag for her untouched sandwich.
What? I blinked at her.
Remember Grandads record player? Had a dog just like this painted on it! Only this beast is twice the size and five times the fur. Come onwhats your name, then? Want a bit of sandwich?
He simply wagged his tail and parked himself on the grass.
Looks like were not getting home just yet, I muttered, peering round Lucys shoulder. Think hell eat me?
Doesnt seem hungrysnubbed the sandwich. Mind you, youre far more tempting.
She grinned. I jabbed her with my elbow. Laugh it up! Well see after youve had two kids!
Cant wait for Monday! Lucy dodged as I lunged for her.
Every time we went shopping I told myself Id start jogging the next week. Since the girls, nothing fit as it should. Lucy would just laugh, pointing to a larger size: Take it, you stubborn thing! Shall I fetch it for you?
Youre a pestalways were! But behind the banter, I was grateful. Tom only got more protective, frowning at the blokes who stopped to watch me.
The dog, meanwhile, lay down and supervised our bickering, moving only for the emergency ambulance that screeched past. Lucy shrugged, glancing at the medics at the doors.
Rightmove along, Marmaduke. I need my bed, Nats children will be raising hell. And meIve got my own business. Off you go!
A burly, moustached driver climbed out. He didnt leave, then?
Lucy turned. Who?
The dog! Hes the old gentswho we brought in last night. Wouldnt get out the car, then chased us here. Good job we werent far away. Loyal creature.
Like Hachiko Lucy murmured, looking at the dog afresh. What are we supposed to do with you?
Marmaduke wouldnt budge. He slipped back under the hedge, sighing so heavily Lucy smiled in spite of herself.
Dont fret. Hell be fine. You know what? Lets film a little message for your owner. Lucy pulled out her phone. Marmaduke tilted his head, puzzled, but seemed content as she recorded him.
The next day, Lucy found the dog exactly where shed left him. She brought a paper plate of cold roast beef, feeding him before promising, You can come home with me tonight. Theres rain on the way and its freezing, and a single lady like mea little security would be no bad thing!
Marmaduke accepted a cautious pat, eating his meal with remarkable dignity.
His masterMr Harris, we found outwas dozing in hospital. Lucy introduced herself, played the dogs video, and watched as a rare smile spread across the old mans face.
Grey he whispered.
Marmaduke, Lucy grinned. Yours?
My best friendthe only soul in the world who cares about me.
Lucy assured him the dog was safe, and with a little prompting, persuaded Mr Harris to ask Marmaduke to go with her. Only then did the dog finally leave his post and follow her, glancing back at the hospital every few steps.
For a fortnight, Lucy returned each morningeither off duty or after her shiftto update Mr Harris and show him fresh videos of his faithful companion.
In time, Mr Harris gave Lucy the keys to his flat, asking her to collect things for him. She tidied while Marmaduke snoozed contentedly in his usual corner.
At one point, a young man appeared at the door: Who are you? Lucy bristled.
Im Greg. Mr Harriss PhD student, and a family friend. Where is he?
Lucy explained, reassured by Marmadukes calm acceptance of the guest. Dont worryhe comes home tomorrow. Come round in the evening.
But whos collecting him from the hospital? Hes got no family.
Lucy, of course, handled it, taking Marmaduke for his first walk home, and promising Mr Harris theyd see him settled.
A year later, at Gregs wedding, Mr Harris bowed with grand ceremony and invited Lucy to dance. Greg, now her husband, would half-jokingly say, Getting jealous yet? as Lucy gave him a cheeky curtsy.
Afterwards, while we snuck out for fresh air, I whispered to Lucy, See? That old superstition is true.
Whichabout the knickers on the lamp?
No, you idiot. The other one: do a kindness, and itll come back to you. If you hadnt taken Marmaduke in, youd never have met Gregor gotten yourself another honorary Grandad.
Lucy squeezed my hand. My Grandads looking out for me, you know. Im sure of it.
She gazed at the pink-tinted sky and blew a grateful kiss. Thank you.The last rays of evening touched Lucys hair, setting her aglow like a beacon in the dusk. I watched her take Gregs armMarmaduke ambling beside them, his head held high, the ring bearer of our blended families. The music floated from the hall, laughter ringing out, a chorus stitched through decades of heartache, friendship, and stubborn love.
It struck me then: life wasnt about what we planned, but what we rescuedpieces of ourselves we thought lost, brought back in small, stubborn kindnesses. I saw it allour childhood feuds, tea in mismatched cups, the ugly little doll still grinning from Sallys kitchen shelf, Marmadukes patient eyes, Gregs hand finding Lucys, my daughters spinning under lanterns, cheeks powdered with sugar and hope.
Wed carried each other through storms and stories, braiding every grief and joy together until even sorrow softened in the light.
Lucy winked at me, her eyes shining with quiet defiance. Come on, Nat, she called, dont let the night get away.
As I joined her, arm in arm, I thought: families are made, not born. Loveold or new, broken or borrowedalways finds its way home.
And somewhere above, as the lamps flickered on, a gentle spirit surely smiled, proud of the girls wed become.
