Lucys Life
Lucy often came here.
Shed haul along a hefty shopping bag, step off the bus, glance around, and adjust her ever-present little beret. After passing through the grand wrought iron gates, she would stroll slowly along the row of fences, counting the hedges, before turning right. Shed pick her way carefully over overgrown, abandoned graves, sometimes pausing to set her bag down, rearrange flowers or right a candle knocked askew by the wind on someone elses grave, then sigh deeply.
Lucys face was fine-featured and gentlebeautiful, really. But she seemed unaware of her beauty. Shed hunch her shoulders and shrink in on herself, as if she was trying hard to be as unnoticeable as possible.
Her clothes were plain, bought on the cheap, no room in her tight budget for anything fancy.
And of course, she wasnt married. Why not?
No one would take her on, her co-workers would mutter as Lucy showered in the communal washroom. Some looked at her with sympathy, some with indifference, and somethough it was hard to imagineeven with a touch of envy. Envy her? What for? Her soul? But a good soul doesnt guarantee happiness, or maybe it does? Who knows Maybe they envied her youth, her hope for the future.
After their shifts, all the other women would emerge from the bakery, flushed from the warmth of the ovens and the smell of fresh bread, wash themselves briskly, scrub their tired, vein-ridden legs with rough sponges, swaddle themselves in towels, put on make-up in little compact mirrors, do up their hair, and disappear into the cityoff to the shops, errands, or dates. Not Lucy. She headed straight home.
She was lucky, really. She had her own flatjust a little one-bed, wallpaper peeling, with a view of the wall of the building next door. Not a bit of sky to be seen, no trees or grass, just brick, but what did it matter? What counted was that Lucy had her own warm, quiet nest.
Every morning, Lucyd do a bit of exercise. Shed wave her arms about, stamp her feet, stretch over until every vertebrae stood out like beads on a string, her underwear making a sharp little line across her skin.
Then shed have a quick breakfast and rush out to work.
She was fortunate with her work, too. Almost as soon as she finished college, she landed a job as a baker at the local bread factory.
Why so quiet? the women would tease. Stick with us, girlwere all family here!
But Lucy didnt seem to want to be part of that family. She kept herself apart, though she bore no grudges and never glared at anyone. She just stayed quietly to herself.
Lucy! Come with us to the café? Its Irenes birthdaylets at least have a bit of fun, a bit of a dance! Rachel would nudge her as their shift ended, casting glances at the clock.
No, thanks. Ive got things to do, Lucy would say, shaking her head.
Oh for heavens sake! Got a child at home, or caring for someone are you? We wont be long, Lucy! You have to have a little fun sometimes, dont you? Rachel was insistent, vibrant and cheerfulsometimes too much soyet there was sadness in her eyes.
No. Ive things to get on with. Thank you. Happy birthday, Irene, Lucy would reply quietly, looking away.
Well, suit yourself. Tell me, Lucy, do you even have a boyfriend? Rachel would whisper right in her ear, winking at the others, who would giggle.
No, Lucy mumbled.
Ever had one?
Not really sure why it matters, Lucy replied, dropping her head lower.
She hadnt.
Because were curious, thats all, Rachel shrugged. Were not strangers, Lucy!
We are, Lucy answered surprisingly. Real friends dont poke into your soul. Please, Rachel, youre distracting me.
Others laughed. No one dared answer Rachel backnot out of respect, but out of fear.
Rachel blushed.
Look at her! Whybecause of your precious rolls? Stupid girl! We try to be nice and you bite. We know youre from care, not raised with affection, you lot grow up like weeds and if you make it, well, good for you. Were only trying to help! Rachel grumbled.
I had parents. Once, Lucy corrected softly. And about us, she emphasised, looking right at Rachel, you know nothing. Theres no help needed here. I have everything I need.
Rachel was wounded, though she wasnt sure why. For some reason, shed wanted to be closer to Lucy, but Lucy had pushed her away.
Soaked to the skin from the rain, Lucy finally made it home, showered for ages, and crawled into bed. Tomorrow was her day off; shed go to the cemetery. To them.
She walked over soggy ground to their grave, set her bag aside, and gently wiped the spatters of mud from the photographs: A manhandsome, in military uniform, hair silver at the temples, and a woman with fine features and kind, shining eyes who looked like she might smile at any moment.
Lucy always hoped shed smile, just a little, for herjust a tiny bit.
But the woman never did.
Mr. and Mrs. Denis, was written neatly under the photos.
Lucy slipped on her gardening gloves and started clearing away dried flowers and wind-blown leaves.
After a while, she fetched a bucket of sand from a box up by the little church. She filled it with heavy, wet sand and lugged it back, the drizzle soaking her coat, her beret sticking annoyingly to her forehead, but Lucy pushed on, the bucket banging against her leg, snagging and tearing her tights.
She stopped, watching a bead of blood roll down from a scrape on her calf.
Ill need to clean that, the thought flashed through her mind, but the next: Later!
She hoisted the bucket and marched on, chin up. She was the daughter of a military man, she told herselfscratches were nothing.
Soon the wet sand had covered the little patch of earth, where primroses and marigolds had once grown. Lucy carried the dead flowers to a bin. No point leaving themthe mice would make nests.
Shed never done any real gardening in her life, not really. Instinct guided her. It hadnt mattered where she grew up. But now, somehow, it did.
All sorted. You like it, dont you? she whispered softly. Sorry its a bit roughthe sand was heavy, and wet. Please dont mind
She paused, then spoke up:
Dad, I snuck on the bus yesterday. Just once, I swear! Lost my purse, seeso silly Sorry. I know… Mum, dont take my side, come on now! Dads right. Ill walk next time
She carried on a little, telling them about work, about Rachels questions, about how neat her flat was.
Keeping things spotlessshe was taught that. Strictlymaybe, but then, youd not be ashamed to have someone over.
I bought a cookbook, Mum. Im going to learn to cook, Lucy continued, seating herself on the iron railing (which really needed a lick of paintshed forgotten!). What for? For when I have visitors. No, Mum, therell be no vodka here, and we wont be smashing any plates, promise.
A laugh caught in her throat, and then a sobtiredness, perhaps, or because there was no reply.
Then someone clapped her on the shoulder.
Lucy gasped, spun around, slipping on a chunk of clay. She nearly fell, but a hand caught her.
Rachel? she whispered, baffled.
Lucy? What are you doing here? Rachel replied, answering her question with one of her own. You grew up in care! We found out at HR! Thats how you got the flatme and Tamsin and Annie have been queuing five years and you got one. Why bother? You dont even have a manwhats the point? Rachels tone was almost angry, but softened. Maybe its for the best. You need time alone, to settle. Wed only have got in trouble in our own place anyway So, what are you doing here?
What about you? Lucy whispered back.
I come to see my aunt. That grave thereunder the birch. She was a tough old thing, my auntone look wrong and youd get a clip around the ear. Not that she didnt look after me, mindtook me in after Mum died, raised me best she could. Im not even in touch with my dada waster. Gave me to Aunt Val and vanished. She got the child money for me, and in the end, she left him her flathim and his wife. And now Im stuck in the hostel. Thats where Im registered, but Im not living there with them.
Rachel kicked a lump of clay, sending it towards the Denis familys cross.
Sorry, Ill get it, she started, but Lucy had already scooped it out, tossing it aside.
You dont really like your aunt. Why visit? Lucy asked. Cos its expected?
Yeah. But why do you? Those people abandoned you, Rachel nodded at the photos. Youre not even from round here. We checked. It says in your file youre an orphan, yet here you are, carrying sand, wiping pictures. Because it matters. And you look like her like that woman.
Rachel reached for a cigarette, patted her pockets for matches.
Lost em. Always lose something here You got a light? She eyed Lucys drenched coat. How do you stand it?
Lucy said nothing, rubbing numb fingers, her leg stinging from the scratch, drizzle threading down her neck.
I dont know them, Lucy said, out of nowhere. Not really. They lived opposite. I used to see the woman walking her doga brown dachshund, old and gentle, when I passed by. Id imagine she was my mother. Silly, I know, Im grown, got my own flat. But I wanted someone.
Lucky, having your own place, Rachel murmured. Shed found some matches, but the box was wet. Maybe it is for the best. Youre learning to be on your own. Id go mad. I got stuck in the hostel. Aunt was churchyicons everywhere. My fathers new missus sold em. They wouldnt let me keep any, I didnt want to. I didnt believe. But seeing you, it makes me think there must be someone up there she nodded at the sky, who decides. Buthold ondo you just pick any old grave? Rachel smirked.
No. I liked the Denises. She was so light, always smiling, and heso proper. I never had parents, so maybe I could just imagine some for myself. No one visits this gravefamily must live far away. And I dont mind, Lucy explained.
So, you buried them? Rachel was horrified.
No. They died in a car crashthats all I knew. I wasnt at the funeraltoo many soldiers, I wasnt brave enough. But Ive come since.
Wouldnt catch me doing that. I need dragging here Rachel shook her head, before softening. Come on, youre freezing.
They gathered up the little garden tools and tidied away the mud.
Rachel tipped some water onto Lucys hands, offered a handkerchief.
No, thank you, Lucy wiped her hands on her coata bad habit. Her mother, Mrs. Denis, would have scolded her for it.
You are a funny one, Rachel kept muttering. Are you you know, a bit odd?
Perhaps, Lucy replied honestly. Its hard finding friends. I had one, Julie, in the home. But she moved far away, she doesnt have my address. I get lonely. These people she nodded at the grave, they talked to me a few times. Or maybe I imagined it Perhaps I am mad.
The bus ride home was a chilly silence. Lucys garden tools clanged together, or maybe it was her teeth rattling.
Sorry, Im rude, dont bother with me, Rachel muttered. Aunt always said I was thats why she didnt like me. Got a rotten character.
But youre very beautiful, Lucy whispered, childlike.
Rachel smiled.
Well, thats something! she whispered back.
***
Its a girl, midwife Susan Baker announced flatly, plonking the newborn onto the chest of Gillian Partridgea tired, harried woman.
Gillians ever-wailing sister, Olive, lived with Susan. Olives husband, David, was there, too. Theyd moved in when Olive got pregnant. Well, Olive did, David just came and went on business. He was always busynever wanted to be involved. Hed show up, eat, sleep, fidget for a few days, and disappear again.
Its because of you! Olive would moan at Susan. You begrudge him bread, look at us sidewaysthats why he wont live with me! Shed clutch her stomach, rocking back and forth.
Im in my own place, Olive, and never said a word. You should see a doctor, you look pale, youre on edgea check up might help. Or let me Susan would reach for her sisters round belly, but Olive would shrink away.
Shes not right in the head, I swear! David would complain to Susan. Wont let me touch her, wants me out.
It happens, Susan said, exhausted. But you should get checked.
Olive was on her fifth pregnancy, but none had gone to term. At first shed see doctors, run through tests, stay in hospital. Then she gave up.
No more, David. They make things worse. Ill light a candle in church.
Olive, dont be daft. You know doctors are what you need hed protest, but Olive would flare upjealous, furious.
Rachel was born two months early, weak and blue, the cord about her neck. She barely whimpered, just squeaked.
At least shes breathingcould be worse. Why didnt you look after yourself, Mum? Youre risking your child! the doctor scolded Olive, casting a look at Susan. But Susan only grabbed her sisters hand, checking her pulsepanic-stricken.
David buried Olive and hung about with the baby for a bit before dashing off on business for good.
I cant, Susan Wholl look after Rachel when Im at work? Shes your daughter! Susan pleaded.
David sighed, handed her a few pounds. Ill send more later. Youll be her guardian. Thats it, Susan. Cant look at herreminds me of Olive
So Susan became Rachels legal guardian.
She put work on hold. When Rachel was three months old, Susan got her into a local nurseryfive days a week, called in a favour or two.
Bitterness set in.
Now, Susan sits beside Gillian Partridge, worn and cradling a newborn, crying so bitterly her beautys goneshed arrived for childbirth upright, hair done, sharp makeup. Her husbandmilitary, it seemedshowed little care. Dropped her luggage and went.
He acted like he was dragging her to the haberdashery, not the maternity ward! the nurses snickered.
Men should be made to watchsee what women go through, might knock some sense into them, another nurse muttered, dashing to check in the new patient.
But Anton Denis didnt come in. No need to, not when the child isnt his.
Hed found out only a week prior, the whispers of a well-wisher confirming itshe got pregnant after the spa, hed been away at the time.
Anton believed it. Added up the months and everything fit. He loathed his wife for it, but refused to get divorcedhe was up for promotion, and a divorced mans paperwork didnt look so tidyso instructed her to give the child up as a sickly case for the state to look after.
But Anton, hes yours! I swear! Gillian would beg.
But Anton was immovable.
Now Gillian weeps, partly because the little girl clings to her, hurting and heartbreaking to give her up. But she must.
Itll be fine, you knowothers have done it and returned to thank us. Chin up, love! Susan said gruffly, perhaps on purpose.
Nothing will be fine, Gillian spat. Shes not his. And he knows. He told me to put her in care.
Susan froze.
Best be done, then. Youre off to London with his new posting? That little thing will get in the way. Hell divorce you otherwise. Simpler to give her up She spoke cold. Write the paper, Gillian. Ill take the baby now.
So Lucy became an orphan. Gillian named her Lucy in the end.
The Denis family never looked for her after. They went on to have a sonthe right child, proudly sent to military college. Gillian loved him, but when asked how many children shed had, would always say twoadding that the first had been stillborn, not suitable for life.
London never happened.
…
Susan worked, resentfulit was hard with Rachel; any child is tricky motherless. She never marriedthose that asked always wanted Rachel gone.
David sent money once in a while. Susan might have fancied him herselfshed started to, but he faltered and left. She loved him all her days, forgave him, left him the flat when she died. Rachel would cope, she thoughtRachel was plucky, proud, self-reliant; always carrying on in spite of things.
When Susan was dying, she never did manage to ask Rachel for forgiveness. For what? For not loving her as a mother should. She hadnt the courage.
***
… And neither Lucy nor Rachel knew they were two lonely souls, riding the same bus nowhuddled for warmth, hunched and glancing at each other.
It was strange and cruel, reallythat Lucy, young and uncertain, had chosen as her family the very people whod once cast her out. Strange that Lucy now knew Susans niece; strange shed failed to persuade Gillian not to give up the baby.
Strange, and yet… wonderful, that these two young womenLucy and Rachelwould soon be walking up the pavement to Lucys flat.
Let me at least buy some potatoes, so Im not turning up empty-handed! Rachel blustered, embarrassed.
No need. Youre shivering! Come inyou need a bath. Ill rustle up something; I got a new cookbook! Lucy beamed. Ive never had guests, so sorry if
No fussscrambled eggs and bacons fine! You got any bacon? Or spring onions? Rachel sneezed, and they both laughed.
Why be sad, after all? The whole of life was ahead, theirs now, not belonging to anyone elsea happy one! And their friendship, just budding, was already precious to them both.
And the past… the past faded, melted into nothing. No need to dwell on it.
Lucy, Im getting married, Rachel would say quietly, two years on.
Oh, Rachel! How wonderful! Oh, how happy I am for you! Lucy would spin about, arms outstretched. Rachel had made her a beautiful dress; everything was lovely, she wanted to sing.
Nothing from the past could spoil that.
Lucy no longer visited the Denises. She was forbidden. Their son had comechased Lucy away, chased her sister off as well.
Later, he would linger, drinking alone by the grave railing, lonely and forgottenBut Lucy didnt mind, not really. Shed already said her farewells. Sometimes shed pass by the gates and look in, but she no longer felt she belonged among the gravestones. Her home was brighter now. She hung new curtainscrisp white with little flowersand a potted fern stood by the window, stretching for the light.
One evening, Rachel came by wringing her hands, dropping worried glances at the floor. Lucy brewed tea, humming softly as she measured leaves into the pot. Rachel produced a letter, battered and creased, and passed it over.
Aunt Susan left me a box, she said. I only just opened it.
Inside were photographsa ragged one of a little girl with tangled hair; two women, hand in hand, squinting at the lens. A note: For my Rachel. Do not hold grudges. Love, even if you were not loved back.
Lucy traced the words, silent.
What will you do? Lucy asked quietly.
Rachel shrugged. Try to remember them kindly, I suppose. She looked up, her smirk wobbling a little. And you?
Lucy smiled. Ill make some soup. Theres bread toostill warm from the oven.
Rachel laughed, her eyes shining.
They ate in the golden lamplight, laughter rolling between them like summer thunder. Rain spattered the glass, but they didnt mind. Outside, the world was vast and uncertain, but Lucys kitchen was small and bright and full of warmth.
Later, Lucy pressed her cheek to the cool window, watching the city lights blur and swim, and she feltstrangelyat peace.
Someone had once told her, Its hard finding friends. Maybe so. But tonight, Lucy thought, maybe it wasnt so hard after all.
A long way from loneliness, and further still from yesterdays sorrow, Lucy and Rachel lingered together, two soft voices in a little kitchen, weaving stories, making plans, laughing bravelyliving.
And that, at last, was enough.
