Jackies story
It
was just a like I had always imagined it to be. He said to her softly. Not wanting to disturb the magic moment they
had just experienced. Lying side by side
in her single university bed he stole a glance at her profile. She must have fallen asleep as her eyes were closed, her breath came slowly,
her dark long lashes swept upwards into the curve of her eyelids – her mouth
slightly open as it had been when they had first met. Her lips were full and red, still moist, bruised with desire of his ardor. Her
blond hair spread across the pillow forming
a fan of golden curls.
They had met downstairs in the campus lobby –talked and chatted all night over a
bottle or two and ended up in her digs
Smothering
their laughter as she smuggled him upstairs in the dark - half giggling half
singing in their excitement they climbed the four flights with whispered jokes and romped on the bed
until dawn. He had told her things he
had never told another soul.
As
the sunlight hit the shades behind the door and light was reflected off the
mirror spreading a shower of rainbow prisms
onto the worn pink bedspread Florent looked up to the
ceiling. He thanked a God who he didn’t
really believe in but thanked him anyway just in case he was wrong … thanked whoever had organized this
wonderful meeting of two people who were perhaps meant to be with each other forever. He was 27 years old could this be ‘her’ –
the woman who was to be his future companion, wife and lover.
He
described to her his grandmother who had brought him up as her own child. He
showed her a photo that he always kept with him and she said “who is the girl
in that blue dress”? As he described his
Grandmother, he was transported to the farm kitchen, the delicious smell of bread
in the oven and just baked apple pie on the table. Memories of his Granny in her blue dress, as blue as cornflowers in August
fields – dotted with tiny white flowers that she always wore.
The
discussions and laughter they had together – the dogs, cats and chickens coming in and out of the
kitchen.
He
described when he had grown up on the farm and after having done his chores at
4 am each morning, milked the cows and mucked out the goats – he studied hard and had managed to get the
grades to apply for University and be accepted.
His
Granny had struggled out of bed that morning to accompany him to say goodbye
and he had suddenly noticed how pale she was as she frowned In pain and
struggled to bend him a kiss.
“She”
listened intently and they decided to go the next holiday to meet this
wonderful lady and this remarkable place.
He
hadn’t been able to tell his Granny in advance as to their arrival as her
telephone seemed to be up to no good and so they set out one Saturday morning
to Pembrokeshire.
As
they arrived at the farm he sensed something was wrong – there was a eerie
atmosphere, chickens, goats and cats
waited on the doorstep and their two farm dogs lay inert on the muddy
path. Their tongues hanging in
thirst.
There
was no Granny to bustle out and greet them as he had imagined, and they opened
the door with caution. There she was
sitting in her kitchen, head on her arms, her blue dress on as usual the little
white flowers now faded and drooping in death.
________________________________________________
Paula's story
Audrey and Juliet were twin sisters, identical in every way
but one. Their skin was pale, their eyes were green, and their hair was a
glossy black, flowing in soft curls to their waists. They were sweet-natured,
they were a help to their mother in the house, and they loved the family fish
fries that had become a tradition on Friday evenings. The family didn’t have
much money, but the girls didn’t notice. They were happy, good girls.
There was but one discernible difference between them:
Audrey always wore red, and Juliet always wore yellow.
It was a puzzling thing that the two girls had developed
such definite yet different ideas about which color set off their attributes
best. Audrey, in her red dress, practically smoldered. The bright red of her
dress made her eyes flash greener than ever, and her bearing became almost
regal. Juliet, in her yellow dress, just sparkled. The sunshine yellow of her
dress made her skin glow, and she seemed to float through the rooms of the
house.
One day, their mother fell ill. It became the girls’
responsibility to take on more of the household chores, such as cooking dinner,
doing the laundry, and ironing their fathers’ shirts. Their efforts, at first,
were not great. But as the days went on, and their mother did not get any
better, the girls did. They got better at making out grocery lists and putting
ingredients together to create decent meals. They got better at understanding
exactly how much soap to put into the washing machine and to take the clothes
off the line if it looked like rain. They got better at figuring out how hot
the iron would get, and their father got better at hiding the scorch stains on
his shirts as he dressed for work.
But one fateful day, Audrey’s red dress and Juliet’s yellow
dress ended up in the washing machine together. The result was two dresses,
very clean and neat, but … blue.
There was nothing to do but smile bravely and put the
dresses on. The family couldn’t afford to buy new clothes, and with their mother
ill, there was no one to sew new dresses from red and yellow fabric.
But the hue did something to the girls. They became
withdrawn, even sullen at times. In their walks around the neighborhood, they suddenly
began noticing blue everywhere. The Walkers’ blue car. The Smiths’ bright blue
house shutters. The blue mailbox at the curb of the Kirbys’ house. They girls
looked at each other, and nodded, once.
That night, after their father kissed them goodnight, they
dressed silently in their matching dresses, and crept from the house. They used
their house key to scratch every surface of the blue car, then they let the air
out of its tires. They squirted oil from their father’s deep-fat fryer all over
the blue shutters, staining them horribly with grease. They rocked and rocked
the pole that held up the mailbox until it fell, in a heap, onto the grass,
where they used mud and rocks to obliterate it.
The next morning, as the girls took their usual walk, the
neighborhood was in an uproar. No one could understand what had happened during
the night. As the twins walked calmly, they saw a tiny beagle puppy, tethered
to a tree in someone’s yard with a blue leash, leading to a bejeweled blue
collar. In the blink of an eye, Audrey had clipped the leash from the tree,
while a boy playing in his yard watched. Then Juliet cut the collar from the
dog. Tasting freedom, the puppy jumped happily at the girls’ legs, then dashed
into the street, where a huge blue pickup truck couldn’t stop in time.
The girls were horrified. They knew what they must do. They
ran home, tore off their blue dresses, and threw them into the washing machine
with anything dark they could find: their father’s denim jeans, the dark red
throw from the back of the sofa, the ink-stained T-shirt their father wore on
the weekends.
The puppy’s owners were distraught, and called the police.
The boy across the street solemnly told the officers, “It was a girl in a bright
blue dress.” He pointed down the street, in the direction of the girls’ house.
Later that day, a knock came at Audrey’s and Juliet’s door.
The father opened it to find two police officers, who asked if they could speak
to his daughter. As both girls shyly approached the door, the officers
apologized, said goodbye, and turned to leave. The father looked at Audrey and
Juliet in bewilderment. “Wherever did you get those purple dresses?” he asked.
------------------------------------------------
Sarah's story
The girl in the blue dress
(10.04.2020)
She had always been pious, and good, very good, that she knew, so when the time came for Muriel to go on, she accepted it with equanimity. She hadn't expect to go at the age of 55, but at least, she thought, she now had the assurance of being among the right sort. There was a lot of riff-rafff down there, she reflected as she began to mount the heavenly ladder.
As she passed through the pearly gates, she cast a look around her and saw that most of the people were carrying bibles or hymn books, and some had rosaries or holy pictures, so she knew she was in the right spot. But she was anxious to see the celebrities.
"Where's Peter?" she asked.
"Peter?"
"Saint Peter, you know," she said, a little impatiently. It should have been obvious.
"Didn't you see him when you came through?"
"At the gate? No, all I saw was ..." But her gaze followed that of her guide, and she now took note of the man at the door. "Him?" No, she had not paid any attention to the man in a porter's uniform. She shook her head at this error in taste, and asked, "Well, where's Paul?"
Her guide pointed him out, surrounded by a crowd of people all listening to what he had to say. He definitely looked imposing, and his long beard and bald head were just as she had imagined him. She would come back later and join the crowd. But for the moment she had another agenda.
"Where's Mary?"
"She's over there. The girl in the blue dress."
A girl. She rather liked that. The idea of Mary not as the old woman she must have been when she died, but as the very very young woman of the nativity scenes or the mother-and-child pictures. She headed in the direction indicated.
In fact there were two women in blue. She went towards the one with flowing blond hair and blue eyes. She was certainly the best-looking of the two.
"Hello, I'm Muriel. I take it you're Mary?"
"Mary? No, I'm Caroline Pinkum from Watertown. Can I help you?" She smiled pleasantly, but Muriel shook her head impatiently and began to walk towards the other woman. Then she turned back abruptly to her guide.
“There's some mistake,” she said. “That can't be her, not with that dark complexion and black eyes. She looks foreign, in fact she's Jewish. I'm sure of it.”
“Well, she was, remember? That's her all right.”
Muriel began to look around her more carefully. She hadn't noticed till then how mixed the population was.
“'Those people over there,” she said. “They look like Arabs.”
“Yes, they were good Muslims in life and now they're here.”
“And those, they're Chinese!”
“Vietnamese, in fact. And those others are Japanese. Good Buddhists, all of them.”
Muriel was becoming more and more aghast. There were Mexicans and other South Americans, why they looked like illegal immigants. And there were even blacks. This was much less congenial than the gated community she had left behind. She turned and was about to head in the other direction, but her guide stopped her.
“There's no going back,” it said. And she noted with horror that the guide was transgender.
“No,” it repeated, “once you're here you're here.”
Sarah's story
The girl in the blue dress
(10.04.2020)
She had always been pious, and good, very good, that she knew, so when the time came for Muriel to go on, she accepted it with equanimity. She hadn't expect to go at the age of 55, but at least, she thought, she now had the assurance of being among the right sort. There was a lot of riff-rafff down there, she reflected as she began to mount the heavenly ladder.
As she passed through the pearly gates, she cast a look around her and saw that most of the people were carrying bibles or hymn books, and some had rosaries or holy pictures, so she knew she was in the right spot. But she was anxious to see the celebrities.
"Where's Peter?" she asked.
"Peter?"
"Saint Peter, you know," she said, a little impatiently. It should have been obvious.
"Didn't you see him when you came through?"
"At the gate? No, all I saw was ..." But her gaze followed that of her guide, and she now took note of the man at the door. "Him?" No, she had not paid any attention to the man in a porter's uniform. She shook her head at this error in taste, and asked, "Well, where's Paul?"
Her guide pointed him out, surrounded by a crowd of people all listening to what he had to say. He definitely looked imposing, and his long beard and bald head were just as she had imagined him. She would come back later and join the crowd. But for the moment she had another agenda.
"Where's Mary?"
"She's over there. The girl in the blue dress."
A girl. She rather liked that. The idea of Mary not as the old woman she must have been when she died, but as the very very young woman of the nativity scenes or the mother-and-child pictures. She headed in the direction indicated.
In fact there were two women in blue. She went towards the one with flowing blond hair and blue eyes. She was certainly the best-looking of the two.
"Hello, I'm Muriel. I take it you're Mary?"
"Mary? No, I'm Caroline Pinkum from Watertown. Can I help you?" She smiled pleasantly, but Muriel shook her head impatiently and began to walk towards the other woman. Then she turned back abruptly to her guide.
“There's some mistake,” she said. “That can't be her, not with that dark complexion and black eyes. She looks foreign, in fact she's Jewish. I'm sure of it.”
“Well, she was, remember? That's her all right.”
Muriel began to look around her more carefully. She hadn't noticed till then how mixed the population was.
“'Those people over there,” she said. “They look like Arabs.”
“Yes, they were good Muslims in life and now they're here.”
“And those, they're Chinese!”
“Vietnamese, in fact. And those others are Japanese. Good Buddhists, all of them.”
Muriel was becoming more and more aghast. There were Mexicans and other South Americans, why they looked like illegal immigants. And there were even blacks. This was much less congenial than the gated community she had left behind. She turned and was about to head in the other direction, but her guide stopped her.
“There's no going back,” it said. And she noted with horror that the guide was transgender.
“No,” it repeated, “once you're here you're here.”
--------------------------------------------------
Monica Brennan
Caroline and Jonathan Know (Lyn and Jonty)
Two older Children Rebecca and Michael and Baby Holly.
Lyn and Jonty, were having an unusual good morning
this particular Saturday morning, Jonty had dropped the older Children
off at their usual, Saturday morning activities picking up a flyer from
the paper shop advertising an Antique Fair with a section of modern day
paintings, this sounds interesting mused Jonty do hope I can persuade
Lyn to come with me .
Three years ago an unbelievable tragedy happened to
this ordinary middle class family it changed their whole lives three
years of nightmares hell and back and back again how they had come this
far is nothing short of a miracle.
Three years ago on a lovely hot idyllic sunny Sunday
Jonty suggested instead of Lyn spending all day cooking in the
kitchen the traditional Sunday roast, suggested they go for a picnic not
far away is a National Trust property that has given public use to a
few acres of ground away from the house its self where family's can
picnic and play ball games .
Michael was helping his father carry the heavier
things back to the car, it would take two journeys Lyn and the two
girls were carrying some of the lighter things and walked a little way
and then back for more, Suddenly this enormous dog appeared it came
bonding towards them at the same time Rebecca had called her mother to
look at a patch of wild flowers she had seen, the dog stop when it saw
them and just trotted to the bushes and Holly ambled in to the bushes
while mummy was looking at the wild flowers this was seconds just
seconds Holly was no where to be seen Rebecca and her mother put down
what they were carrying and ran to the bushes no sign of Holly at all
her blue dress will stand out in the darker bushes thought Lynn Blue was
Holly's favroite colour she was a strong willed little girl and didt
like pink dresses just blue, by this time Michael and Jonty were back
back for the rest of the the picnic things and to help carry everything
Lyn was very distressed saying we cant find Holly Oh don't be sill said
Jonty that little monkey is hiding from us and they all begin to crawl
underneath the undergrowth where exactly did she go asked Jonty right
here these bushes now there was more than a hint of hysteria in Lyn's
voice the next half an hour was a living nightmare straggling
picnickers started to help search the police were called the park was
completely sealed off helicopters circling over head, to this day none
of them knew how they got home they do remember a police escort, and
that was the begging of the three year nightmare still on going and
Holly would now be six and a half .
Lots of police organizations for missing lost
and stolen children were involved as well as Interpool some chairtiable
organizions, a women police lission officer was assigned to them and
sheee the whole family on regalie lots of councilling and physiatrists
were involved and most of these orgggggggggziations are still workin
with the family, one can only imagine trying to live any sort of normal
life with athese organzations involved and also trying to normalise life
for the two older children.
Lynn threw herself in to here Career Jonty not so
much so he now does consultancy work at home and is there for the
children school runs parents days
The on going grief is unimaginable but this family
have clung together and to outward appearance's are coping well the
hardest time's are family events, birthdays Christmas Easters and family
holidays which they just dont do anymore.
Jonty arrived home to find Lyn tidying up the two
older children's rooms Holly's is just like she left it , showing her
the flyer he had picked up, much to his surprise and delighted she said
yes lets go we have a couple of hours before we need to pick up the
children.
They looked around with semi interest still not in
the mood to buy luxury for the home they moved upstairs to where the
paintings both old and modern, suddenly Jonty looked at Lynn she had
gone so white he thought she was about to faint,he looked up to see what
she was staring at so intently a little girl in a blue dress painted in
the south of France unsigned.
This was not their imagination, it was their own
baby Holly now age six in the painting, they quickly got them selves
together enough to buy the painting Jonty and Lyn walked to the car par
but the painting in the boot sat for a little while in the car and then
locking the car went back to the stall holder by now Lyn was in floods
of tears and Jonty just about holding himself together they asked if
the could speak to here privately so in a corner of the cafe they told
her the story, they asked her if she would mind as they would like to
inform the police and all the other departments that were working with
them she assured them through her own tears she would cooperated with
them fully and any one of the organizations that would want to interview
her through tears and hugs and good luck messages they all shock hands
and in shock they drove home.They decided not to say a word to the older
children so hiding the paintings went to pick up the children , if the
children notice the strange mood their parents were in over that weekend
they said nothing.
Monday they both took a week from work and then when
the children were safely at school began getting in touch with all the
organizations working with them and for them , This began weeks and
months of painstaking detective work world wide, not made any easier by
discovering the artist was Russian, and now lives in America, he had
been in the south of France all that summer doing painting classes and
workshops, when he wast working he would just walk to the beech, or the
local town and paint what caught his eye , and this still beautiful
little girl did catch his eye being one of his random paintings .
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