The Magical Lady.
Alex squeezed herself into the crowd and nimbly made her way forward. The bus was packedit had just chucked out five people and was meant to take on twenty more.
Alex was more or less swept inside. She handed her fare to the already weary driver as she went and, carried by the press of people, her rucksack and soggy umbrella in hand, a ridiculous smile on her face, drifted somewhere toward the middle of the bus.
She did actually find it a little funny. She always smiled in these moments. Instead of panicking or getting frazzled, a smile was her shield against all the fussbad moods werent for her.
People jostled, got settled, snapped at each other about wet umbrellas, packed bags, the inconvenience of it all.
The shuffle pressed Alex between an elderly lady on one side and a teenage boy in school uniform, unsure where to put his enormous backpack, on the other. The woman with a grey bobble hat by the window offered to hold the boys bag.
Those sitting looked like indifferent statues. These lucky things had their phones in front of their noses or peered out the window at the bright umbrellas blossoming on drizzly streets.
The sitters kept their irritation with the crowd at bayno need to concern themselves with such an unpleasant scene. There was enough negativity in the world. No one cared about the standing passengers. Pure postmodern self-interest was on fine display.
Only this petite woman in the knitted grey hat broke the trend. Shed taken the boys bag and now sat with it and her little handbag perched on her knees. She was at the window beside a rotund lady speedily texting. The woman in the hat kept glancing anxiously at the bus doors, twisting her head like a jackdaw, worrying about the last of the boarding passengers and even offering her seat.
There are still more! Three more to squeeze ineveryone budge up a little, will you? she tried to corral the crowd.
No room left! Were already packed in like sardines! Stay where you are, someone grumbled.
Why dont you sit down instead, Ill stand, she persisted, half rising.
Oh, give it a rest! barked her seatmate, distracted from texting.
The woman with the hat looked a little hurt and turned to the window, but it didnt go deep; Alex could see she kept glancing toward the entrance, still worrying. What an odd sort of lady, Alex thought.
Eventually, the bus doors slammed once, then twice. The driver told everyone to clear the space by the doors and, in the end, the last fellow had to jump off. He mustve been in a hurryhe didnt even bother opening his umbrella, just bolted down the boulevard in the downpour, not noticing puddles or water trickling from his hair and jacket.
Alex noticed the magical lady watched him go with concern, a crease of worry forming between her brows.
Her sensitivity, along with that sit down, love, both amused and perplexed Alex. How curious! Where was she from?
Soon she forgot about her. Alex retreated into her own thoughts.
If only she had a car by now She would, if
Stop! Dont think about that!
Her dad didnt want her to get one. She understood, especially lately, what with this Eleanor now in his life. He could easily buy a car for Eleanor before hershe wouldnt put it past him! He had the money, Alex knew for certain.
Her dad was one of the lads. Always had been. He looked respectablehe lectured at the local university, had a degree. Occasionally, their schedules matched and hed give her lifts in his old Volkswagen, but that didnt happen much. He was easygoing, a big softie.
Her mum had been the strict one, set high standardsbut her mum was
Stop! Leave that.
Most of the time it was the bus to and from uni, even on days like this, cold and drenched.
At last, her stop was coming up. Time to nudge through the crowd to the door. More bustle behind. Alex glanced back. The woman in the grey hat was also trying to exit, dragging a large rolling bag.
Where are you going with that bag? muttered an actorly man, panicking for his coat and shoes.
Sorry, sorry, but I do have to get it off
Miss, are you getting off here? the woman asked, mopping sweat from under her hat, and Alex saw she wasnt that old after all.
Yes. Goodshed be ahead of that heavy bag or her tights wouldnt survive.
Alex popped out, opened her umbrella, and, taking a deep breath of autumn damp, headed to the crossing. At the kerb she looked backthe magical lady was asking a passing old dear for directions; the lady shrugged and shook her head.
Lost, maybe? The green man flicked on, butwell. Alex turned back. She knew this neighbourhood now, even if shed only lived here three years.
Shed lived with her parents on the other side of town, but after losing her mum, spent three years with her gran before heading to university and moving back to her dads. Hed sold the old family flatit was too painful, full of memories, and Alex had struggled emotionally. They needed a new start.
With the funds, theyd managed a modern, well-appointed flat.
Its all for you, her dad said.
Alex was grateful. She took over the look of the place, cooked up treats for her dadgrannys lessons paid off and the internet gave endless ideas. After years of cast iron pans, she mastered the food processor and slow cooker, baked rustic rolls, did candlelit dinners for fun, experimented. The kitchen was her realm.
Alex, Im getting fat! If you keep this up, Ill have to widen the doors, her father joked.
You couldve called the magical lady petite. Her bag looked like it weighed more than she did, but at least it had wheels. She wore a short denim jacket with a furry lining, a tightly fitted hat, jeans, and black boots.
No hood, no brollyshed wrapped a woollen scarf awkwardly over her head. Looked dafther neck covered, her hair at the back exposed to the weather.
Alex approached.
Do you need directions?
What? Oh, yes, if you dont mind! She plopped her bag down. Im looking for Birch Road. Any idea?
It was on Alexs wayshe was headed that direction.
Well walk together. Let me give you a hand.
No, no, Ill be fine! Its light as a feather, on wheels, the woman insisted.
Youll be soakedit’s not very close.
Oh, this scarf will do, she said cheerfully.
Alex kept quiet. The womans denim jacket was already darkening from rain, as was her scarf. Alex tried to shield her with her umbrella as best she could, dodging puddles and streams.
Still, the woman stayed upbeat, toddling along, even managing a small smile.
Where have you come from? Alex asked above the racket of rain and splashing cars.
Me? Sheffield waya little village really, out in Derbyshire.
Thats a long trip!
Mmm! But I caught a flight, so it was nothinga longer trek to Sheffield than here. Dry as a bone down there. But what can you do? If you wish for a rainbow, rains part of the bargain
Well, I dont think therell be any rainbowsnearly winter now, Alex noted.
Too right Puddles as far as the eye can see.
What was that? Alex asked.
Puddles, the woman clarified.
The bag slowed them both, plus there were kerbs, stairs, potholes. Fair enoughpuddles does cover it! Alex thought, and eventually grabbed the handle herself, so the two of them struggled along.
At last they reached Birch Road.
Thats your Birch Roadwhats your house number? Its a bit far Lets go, Ill see you right.
Oh, I feel bad making youdont go out of your way!
Im in no rush, and youd be drenched otherwise. Come on. Alex took the bag. Are you visiting?
My son. He studies here, rents a place.
He didnt meet you?
He didnt know I was comingthought Id surprise him. Hes always saying, Dont bother, Mum! But I reckoned Id go anyway, bring some home comforts, maybe see the sights. Londons something, and I fancied a look.
Impressions so far?
The woman shrugged, stepping around a giant puddle.
People here seem in a rush for their own good, dont really notice others. Its a shame… Ohin fact, there we are.
Outside the five-storey block, Alex was about to say goodbye, but the doors had an entry code. They huddled under the porch. They called up to his flatno answer. The woman rang her sonjust an endless ring. They even tried Alexs numbernothing.
A neighbour buzzed up but hadnt seen the son for ages.
When did you last speak to your son? Alex asked.
Yesterday it was, I think. Hell be at university, no doubt. You go on, really. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Let me share a pieoh, wait, better not, theyre a bit old. Fancy a sweet? No? Well, go on then. Ill wait for him, dont you fret.
Well, goodbye then. All the best to you!
A shame, but Alex was desperate to get out of the rain now, having made quite the detour. Best head home. She walked with a warm feelingthe magic lady made things feel more comforting somehow.
She got home quickly. No one was in, which was a blessing.
Recently, evenings at home were no longer something she treasured. Not since Eleanor, her dads new friend, started coming round. At first, her dad kept their meetings outside the flat, but then he introduced them and Eleanor began to pop by more and more.
One morning, she emerged from Alexs dads room in a towelling robeas if it was perfectly normal. She didnt just stay the night, but half the day. She started acting as if Alex was the guest, not her. Gave cookery lessonsSee, Alex, how you do the beef stroganoff, just so…. As if Alex didnt do it better herself.
Ill make Caesar salad next, shed announce. Apparently, Alex was useless.
Dad likes smoked chicken, but youve just boiled some.
Well, its healthier at his age, Alex.
His age! And what, you only fancy him for his wisdom? Eleanor was barely eleven years older than Alex. Or did she just like a good mouse-catching?
Gone were the warm evenings on the sofa, her and her dad, chatting, drifting off in front of the telly, talking uni gossip, having pillow fights, her dad tickling her til she squealed.
Now, Eleanor was the one fussing over her dad, wrapping him up in mums old tartan blanket. Alex would take herself off to her room, alone.
No, she wasnt fond of Eleanor. People could call it daughters jealousy or say her dad deserved a lifeit might even be true, for one day Alex would as well. But Eleanor…
Once Alex got in early to find Eleanor on the beige sofa, living room and open kitchen joining together. Basin in front, one foot on the sofaEleanor, mid-pedicure.
Oh, Alex, youre home early! Want to join? Got the full pedicure set. Or is that not your thing?
I do, just in the bathroom, Alex snapped, grabbing a roll and darting to her room. She had no appetite to sit and eat by the kitchen.
Eleanor tried to show off her knowledge, but Alexand, it seemed, even her dadsaw through it. Eleanor only cared for movie and pop news. Thanks to her, Alex had seen a few excellent films, though.
Dad, do you love her? she asked him one evening when they were alone.
I think Ive just got used to her. You know, dont look a gift horse in the mouth. Once you fly off, Ill need someone, and Eleanors nice enough, kind.
But shes so empty, Dad! And she bosses you around.
Dont be silly. Ive never been a leader. I need a woman with a bit of spirit, like an army sergeantotherwise, whats the point?
Shes all effect and no substance, though!
Maybe so, but I think she cares for me Dont be jealous, Alex. Think about your own life. Its about time, isnt it?
Still, Alex couldnt help pitying her dad. Why? She couldnt explain. Maybe it really was just jealousy, taking her mums place…
She went home, changed, wandered into the bathroom, washed off the days weight. She noticed, automatically, that there was yet another hair mask or facial cleanser on the shelf. The scent of Eleanor was taking over.
She hadnt even had a snack when a call arrived, an unknown number.
Hello? I had a missed call from this number, said a pleasant deep voice.
No, you must have the wrong number… Hang on… waita quick onedo you live on Birch Road?
Yeah, why?
Your mums turned up, surprise visit. And youre not in. Its bucketing down…
Mum? Oh! Thank you so much
He hung up straightaway.
Alex started to fix herself a sandwich and irritably cleared up an oily pan left by Eleanor. Typical.
Soon another call.
Sorry to trouble you, he said, but a tricky situationIm actually in Wales. Only for a week. All-British volunteer groupuni work. Didnt tell Mum, shed worry herself sick. But cant reach her. Ive tried and tried… The keys with the landlady, but shes at her cottage till Monday. Im not sure what to do. Maybe you can let her know, tell her to get a hotel Shes always full of surprises, my mother.
Hmm. Tough one. I live a bit of a way off, Alex replied, snug in her lounge suit and thick socks, staring at the wet, grey street. Then she pictured the magical lady, standing there under the porch, bag and alland said, Ill trot over now and hand her the phone. Stay by your mobile.
Thank you! Thank you ever so much!
Alex bundled up, pulled on her wellies, grabbed the umbrella, and made for Birch Road. She figured shed stop at the shop on the way back. She realised she didnt know local hotels. Just one, and it cost a fortunewould the woman from Sheffield manage it? Only a few days, though. All the same, who turns up as a surprise these days?
No one was under the porch now. Across the playground, she spotted the womans blue coat on the bandstand, now wrapped with dying ivy.
She was huddled, hands clasped between knees, shivering.
Hello again! Alex stepped onto the little stage.
The magical lady jerked upright and forced a smile, but it was more worried than happy.
You look like a sparrow on a perch. Cold?
A little. Youre from earlier?
Alex handed her the phone.
Your son cant get through.
My phones dead, been calling him and calling him
Here”
She took the phone, and as soon as she heard her boys voice she started chirping away, just like a sparrow cheered by the promise of spring.
Youre away? Where? Cardiff? Alright, son, dont you fret. Ill sort something out. Ill wait for you. Its fine.
Her face was bright with joy; for the moment, all problems seemed solved.
So, whats your plan? Alex asked.
The woman smiled and glanced around, clearly not thinking of herself.
What now? she asked, standing, ready to wander anywhere.
Thats what Im asking, too, Alex said.
Are there hotels nearby? The woman lifted her gaze from the bag. Do you know any?
Sitits dry herelets have a look, and they both bent over Alexs phone, searching hotels. But none available or far too dear. They checked for rooms by the night…
Maybe I should just dump my things in left luggage and go for a ramble in London. That was the plan, really.
Look at the rain. You should get warm, Alex decided, closing her phone case. Come home with me. Its only three daysyoull catch your death otherwise.
Oh, I couldnt! Im a stranger. What if Im a conwoman or something? Honestly, you never can tell nowadays She shook her fist at the world in general.
She carried on a while, then froze mid-thought, bulged her eyestrying to seem scary, perhaps, imagining what a real conwoman might look like.
Alex listened, trying to follow her logic. The conwoman in her lopsided scarf was so funny Alex burst out laughing, clutching her stomach, and the magical lady soon joined in.
Oh myohI should have found a loo by now, the woman giggled, crossing her legs.
Through drizzling rain, they made their way to Alexs.
Were a right double act, you and I, now informal, the magical lady said.
Lets do the introductions. Im Alex, by the way. Student.
And Im Mary. I run the village hallbit of a song-and-dance woman too, whenever needed.
Youre in charge of the whole hall?
Oh heavens, no, just a little parish hall, really. And, well, I put on dances, lead the choirwhen you havent enough staff, you become a jack-of-all-trades! Thank goodness we do have a cleaner.
Mary was visibly tired but still tried to refuse Alexs offerworried her family might mind, insisting shed pay
Then she toured the flat, thrilled, patting her thighs and admiring everything. Shed cropped her hair shortsuited her, really. Without her silly hat and sopping jacket (now set to dry on the radiator), she actually looked quite girlish.
While Mary showered, Alex sorted dinner and made up a spare roomthey had plenty of space.
Look at all these books! Youre keen on Alan Bennett? So am I. Gosh, a complete Hardy set! That’s something. Listen to this She read a bit aloud. Never know whether to laugh or cry with Hardy. Sometimes both; think Im daft, dont you?
You read a lot. But wheres that sit down, love accent of yours from?
Its village speak, dear. Been among folks for yearsit rubs off. Alex, if your dad objects, Ill leave, honestly. Just tell me.
Dont be daft. He brought Eleanor round; if she can stay, why not you? She isnt even officially moved in, and its more than three days. Besides, its my home too.
Dont get on, do you?
No. We were fine, the two of us.
Sometimes, even with a houseful, it feels more spacious than with just two. Maybe its closeness, or lack of it.
Thats true enough, Alex stirred the soup.
Perhaps its still to come. Itll thicken with time, like porridge.
If you say so. It used to be a family. Now
They ate, cleared away together.
In Alexs room, a photo hung: her mum, arms wrapped around a ten-year-old Alex, pulling her close. Her mum was so beautifulcascading curls, soft smile.
Mary studied it for ages, so long Alex felt uncomfortable, as if Mary might see something even Alex never let herself see.
Whats that in your hand? I cant quite tell.
Alex sat on the bed; Mary sat on the sofa.
A wristwatch. Mum had just bought it for me. Her pulse sped up, but she didnt tell herself Stopit slowed again.
Will you tell me about your mum?
Why? But suddenly, Alex wanted nothing more.
She began to share the storyone shed only ever told herself, and only in the year after her mum had died. Never out loud before. It was the story that had brought her near to breaking so often.
Who could she have told? Her dad and gran were so worried about her, it didnt seem fair; her friend Rose wouldnt have understood; Ed? He didnt do real life drama.
And she had scared her dad and grandmum. For a year, she was in piecescrying every night, screaming into voice messages from her mum. Dad went grey in months. Gran was mourning too.
Shed been fourteen and saw no point in going on. The pain twisted into her heart, leaden and cold, crushing her, making it hard to breathe.
Mum was gone. It had felt like Alex and her mum were one, and splitting in two was impossible. Her phone was taken away, photos put out of sight, she was sent to Grans. But nothing changed.
She called for her mum, begged for her in dreams, but she didnt come. Shed simply disappeared, vanished.
Eventually, Alex learned to block out that part completely. To tell herself stopnot to think or let her mind wander near it.
Thoughts of her mum didnt vanish, but they became lighter, easier to bear so long as she didnt focus on details, or old scents and touchesthat would be a risk for another breakdown.
Her mother died in a car accidenta wet road and an oncoming car. She lost control. The end.
And now, telling her story to this absolute stranger, Alex could see forgotten snapshotsher mums perfume, fine blue veins on her wrists, the cafe-au-lait birthmark on her shoulder.
Only after the loss did she understand how strong their love had been. Alex talked: little secrets, the plans her mum had for her, the braids shed put in her hair; meeting her from school, the goals she set, her hopes for Alexs independence.
And the gift of the watch. She left out its eventual fate. She wasnt scared of breaking down today. She usually was, but not now. It was as if Mary herself was her stopkeeping back the worst.
And Mary sat listening intently, a little crease between her browjust as Alexs mum had when something upset her.
Alex didnt realise she had tears running down her cheeks; Mary simply listened, serious and kind.
Oh, Im crying, arent I? Alex touched her collar.
Its just rain, thats alland its fine to cry, darling. Go ahead, let it out. Dont stifle sorrow; let it be. Theres no harm. Your mum would want it, too.
And that was it. For the first time, Alex wept for her mum without panic; gently, easily, able to stop any time. Why now?
And why was it that shed opened up to a stranger?
Definitely a magical lady, Alex thought before drifting off to sleep.
Mary fell asleep on the couch in Alexs roomdidnt even make it to her own.
Outside, the trees along the city avenue quietly let go of their burdens, dropping their gold and red at the slightest breeze.
And the rain kept coming, washing and blurring the line between sky and earth, between grief and peace, between yesterday and tomorrow.
It was as if the rain was rounding off Alexs memories, drawing them to a close. After all, rain doesnt last forever.
