The Kindly Lady.
Alexandra squeezed herself into the crowded throng and weaved her way forward. The bus was properly jammed, having just spilled out a handful of people but then expecting to load on at least twenty.
She was practically swept on board. With her rucksack and damp umbrella, she thrust a few pounds into the exhausted drivers hand and was carried by the tide of bodies towards the centre of the bus, a silly grin fixed on her face.
To be fair, Alexandra always found these moments oddly amusing. She smiled in such situationsnot fretting, not getting worked up. It was her quirky way of shielding her mind from the gloom, which she simply couldnt afford.
Bags, elbows, soggy umbrellas were all battling for space, people jostling, muttering, and shuffling for the least uncomfortable spot.
The crush pressed Alexandra up against an elderly lady on one side and a gangly schoolboy on the other. The poor lad didnt know where to put his bulging backpack, until a woman in a knitted grey hat, sat by the window, cheerfully offered to hold it.
The seated passengers resembled detached statuesthese lucky souls with their noses in their phones or gazes turned to the pavements, where only the odd bright umbrella broke the monotonous grey.
They tried ignoring the fuss of the unlucky ones still standing, quietly wishing the crowd would hurry up so the bus could be off. Why bother with someone elses predicament? There was enough stress as it was. No one cared about the standing passengersno one. This was self-interest at its clearest.
Except for this tiny lady in the grey hat and chunky scarf, now cradling the schoolboys bag on her knees next to her own battered handbag. Twisting and turning her head like a jackdaw, keen to help those still boarding, she tried to orchestrate the chaos.
Theres still more to come onmove up, just a tad, please love? she called out.
Theres nowhere left, were packed in like sardines! Sit down, for goodness sake!
Or maybe youd? Come, Ill stand
Oh, give it a rest! barked the woman at her elbow, annoyed at having her text interrupted.
Slightly wounded, the lady in the hat turned to the window, but she kept glancing towards the entrance, fretting. Alexandra watched her with faint amusement, thinking, What a curious woman.
Finally, the bus hissed its doors shut. After a scurrying plea from the driver, the last chap had to leap from the step and made a dash ahead of the busno umbrella, heedless of the cascade streaming down his jacket and hair.
Alexandra noticed the kindly woman watching him, a worried furrow between her brows.
Her nervous bustle and have a seat, love! endeared her to Alexandra, but soon she drifted into her own thoughts.
If only she had a car She would have, if
Stop! Dont go there.
Her father didnt want her driving. Understandable, especially now he had that new girlfriend, Kate. Hed probably buy Kate a car first, if truth be told! He had the means; Alexandra knew that for certain.
Her father seemed every inch the upstanding university lecturer with his degree, but at home he was gentle, even a big softie. Rarely did their schedules match, but Alexandra sometimes caught a lift in his Volkswagen. Her mum had always been strictmuch more soyet
Dont go there.
So, buses it waseven on such cold, rainy afternoons.
It was finally her stop. Alexandra nudged through the crowd toward the doors amid all the fluster. She noticed the woman in the grey hat was struggling, too, towing a large holdall on wheels.
Blimey, love, where are you barging with that suitcase? grumbled a theatrical-looking gent, clutching his precious raincoat and shoes.
Sorry, sorry, but Ive got to get it off
Miss, are you getting off? the lady mopped sweat from beneath her hat, and Alexandra realised she wasnt so old after all.
Yes. She was glad to slip off before that monstrous bag ran over her tights.
Alexandra popped up her umbrella and drew a fresh, damp breath of autumn air as she headed to the zebra crossing. Yet she glanced backthe kindly lady was asking an older woman something, but got just a shake of the head and a shrug.
Lost, perhaps? The light changed. Alexandra hesitatedthen swung back, figuring she knew this estate well enough, even if shed lived here only three years.
After her mother died, Alexandra had spent years with her gran, then moved back in with Dad when she got into university. Dad had sold the old placetoo many memories, too much sorrow. They needed a fresh start, and could afford a nicer flat.
It was all for her, Dad had said. Alexandra threw herself into decorating, cooking for her father, whipping up Grandmas old recipes and whatever struck her fancy online. The kitchen became her haven.
Youll make me fat at this rate! her father joked. If you keep spoiling me, Ill need the door widened.
The lady with the suitcase was tiny, dwarfed by her rolling bag but for its handy wheels. Dressed in a cropped denim jacket lined in faux fur, jeans and black bootsbut without a hood or umbrella, shed perched a woollen scarf on her head, leaving her neck exposed.
Alexandra approached. Do you need directions?
Oh! Yes, please, the woman beamed, parking her bag. Birch StreetIm hopeless, wheres that?
Turned out it was along Alexandras own route.
Come on, Ill help you with that.
No, no, its lightits got wheels.
But youre getting soaked
Oh, the scarf will do.
Alexandra said nothing. The denim jacket was already letting in water, and the scarf was equally sodden. She angled her umbrella over them as best she could as they splashed through puddles and around kerbs.
Still, the woman didnt seem bothered, tripping along with a little smile.
So, where have you come from? Alexandra shouted over the rain and passing cars.
Me? Oh, from a village near Newcastle, by way of Sheffield. Got the plane down, so not far! More time getting to Sheffield than to London. Nice and dry up therehere I get a right London baptism, eh? But if you want a rainbow, must put up with the rain
Doubt therell be rainbows in late autumn, Alexandra shrugged.
True just endless puddles
Endless what? Alexandra asked.
Puddles, dear.
The awkward holdall slowed them up, especially over curbsides and uneven iffy crossings. Puddles, indeed, Alexandra reminded herself. Finally, she too grabbed the handle, and together they managed.
At last they reached Birch Street.
There you are. Whats the house number? Oh! Thats a walkIll show you, Alexandra insisted.
I hate to keep you You go on.
Im not in a hurry. Anyway, youll be drenched soon without a brolly. Lets.
Visiting family? Alexandra asked as they trundled on.
My sonhe studies here. Doesnt know Im coming. Wanted to surprise him. Hed just tell me not to travelnot worth the fuss, he says! But I thought, why not? I bring some nice homemade bits for him, and hoped to see some sights too.
You havent been charmed by London yet? Alexandra quipped as they skirted a particularly large puddle.
The woman shrugged. Seems everyone just looks out for themselves here. Doesnt notice whos around. Bit sad Oh, is that number 42?
They stopped at a block of flats. The entrance had a code lock and nobody came when they buzzed the flat. The sons mobile just rang and rang. Neighbours phones didnt helpno one had seen him.
When did you last speak to your son? Alexandra asked.
Yesterday, I think. Hell be at lectures now, I bet. You go, dear, reallythanks ever so much! Id offer you a slice of cake but its gone off, and the sweets I have are stale. Do go on.
Alexandra finally left, slightly regretful but soaked and chilled; still, she felt a warmth from the encounter. There was something comforting about the womans fussing.
Home awaited, blissfully empty. Alexandra had grown to dread evenings in, especially since Kateher fathers girlfriendhad become a fixture. At first, Kate would only spend a little time there, but then there she was, padding around in her bathrobe and slipper socks, fussing over her pedicures in the lounge as if she owned the place, instructing Alexandra about salads and steaks, always eager to teach, refusing to believe Alexandra already knew.
Dad, do you really love her? Alexandra had once asked. Dad had shruggedhabits more than love, hed said. And hed need company, after all, once Alexandra flew the nest.
But the warmth had gone out of their home. Where once Alexandra and her dad would share telly evenings on the sofa, now Kate competed for his affection, usurping even her late mothers precious blanket. Alexandra sulked in her room.
That day, Alexandra grabbed a tea and was just sitting down when the phone rang from an unknown number.
Hello? You called me? a young mans voice.
No, sorrywait, you live on Birch Street, dont you? Your mums just arrived in the rain and youre not home.
Mum? Oh blimey! Thank you so much! Ill call her now!
Moments later, the mystery number lit up again.
Sorry, butlook, Im actually in York. Volunteering with a student group for a week. Thought Id surprise Mum when I got home, not the other way round. I tried calling hernothing. My landlady has the spare key, but shes up in Leeds until Monday. Is there any way you could let Mum know? Get her into a hotel, maybe?
Im not far, Ill go back and find her. Stand by your phone, yes?
Thank youthank you so much!
Bundling up again, Alexandra braved the rain. Where did you find a reasonably-priced hotel here? She supposed this woman would be fine for a couple of nights, but you never knew.
She found the woman huddled in a playground shelter, hands jammed between her knees for warmth. Alexandra arrived breathless and handed her the phone so she could finally speak to her son.
Oh, so youre in York! Dont worry, love, Ill sort something Wait for you? Of course.
The sheer relief on the womans face was visible.
Where are you going to go then? Alexandra asked.
I suppose I need a hotel. Is there one that doesnt cost the earth nearby?
Take a seat, lets check, Alexandra said. Accommodation was hard to come byeven the usual websites offered sky-high prices or no vacancies. A room for the night idea was floated.
Or perhaps I could put my things in left luggage and just stroll about town, the woman suggested.
Thatll do you no good in this weather. Heres an idea Come stay with us for a few days. Don’t argueitll be warmer, and my dad has someone else here half the time anyway, Alexandra decided, grabbing the suitcase.
Oh, heavens, I cant impose! I might be an imposter for all you know! Theres crooks everywhere these days, arent there?” She made a face, making Alexandra laugha laughter that soon became infectious, and even the kindly lady giggled along, holding her sides.
Oh, this is too muchI might wet myself! the woman chortled.
So they trotted through the drizzle together.
We fit together, you and Ilike fish and chips, said the woman. Im Marina, by the way. Used to run the village community hall in Newcastle, and also fancied myself a bit of a dancer and singer.
So you actually ran a cultural centre? Alexandra marvelled.
Not a palace, lovea village club, really. But we make do! Out in the sticks, you have to be jack-of-all-tradesmanage a choir, teach dancing, the lot. At least we have a cleaner, else
Even tired, Marina kept worrying. Would Alexandras family mind? Should she pay for her lodging?
At home, Alexandra found Marina her own spare room. The flat was large, airy, distinctly modern. Marina pottered about, cooing over shelves of books and, after warming up, looked rather youthfully refreshed; her short crop of hair made her lively.
Over a hot lunch, the atmosphere softened even more.
Oh, youve a set of Forster and Brontë, Marina exclaimed. But whats this take a seat dialect of yours?
Its just how we speak in the village, love. You pick it up staying among folk, Marina replied, smiling. Should your dad object to me being here, Ill gopromise me youll say, no hard feelings.
Dont fret. If my dad can bring his Kate here, I can bring youand this place is half mine, after all.
Dont like his girlfriend, then?
Not one bit. It was nice with just Dad and me.
Funny how sometimes twos company, but sometimes even seven in the house isnt too many, if youre close. But when youre not, it feels crowded no matter what.
Exactlyits not a family anymore.
They tidied up together. In Alexandras room was a treasured photo of herself with her mumher mothers curly hair framing a kind smile, the two in a gentle embrace.
Marina gazed at the photo. Theres something in your handwhat is it?
A watch Mum bought me, just before Alexandras heart fluttered but she didnt stop.
Tell me about your mum.
Alexandra found she wanted to tell someone, perhaps for the first time since she was thirteen: about the terrible first year after losing her mum. How shed screamed for her at night. How her father went grey overnight; how her gran herself was ill with grief, and Alexandras own anguish seemed too much to add.
She told Marina about the closeness, the unspoken bonds, the private jokeshow much her mother had wanted her to become independent, and how shed given those delicate little wristwatches that last Christmas.
As she spoke, Alexandra wept. But for the first time, the grief washed through her rather than breaking her. She realised she was crying not with despair, but softly and calmly, as though some line had finally been crossed.
You cry brilliantly, Marina said, squeezing her hand. Rain or no, theres no shame in tears. Your mother would understandsometimes you have to let the sad bits out.
They both drifted off to sleep, Alexandra warmed not just by central heating, but by an unfamiliar comfort.
The trees along the city avenue let go their golden leaves without a fuss, surrendered by the autumn breeze. The rain blurred the world a little more, rounding the sharp edges of memory, softening the boundaries between sorrow and joy, between the past and the unwritten future.
Because no rain lasts foreverand sometimes, letting the storm pass through is how we find room for sunlight again.
Alexandra understood, at last, that sometimes kindness from a stranger is just what you need to step out of your own grief and back into life. And that even in the coldest city rain, a little warmth and openness can change everything.
