Emerald Green

A young woman searching for someone from her past...

Emerald Green

Autumn had come suddenly to Harrowby.  The beach was deserted save a few hardy souls taking in the sea air.  Gemma looked up at the sky.  It would start to rain soon.  A rock pool, framed by jagged rock, caught her eye.  Instinctively she peered into it.  She watched as the water rippled as the wind gently blew across it.

“Look at my reflection Auntie Babs, it’s moving!”

“Don’t worry love, it’s just God stirring it with his finger.”

The anguished cry of a seagull brought Gemma back to reality. She sighed, staring gloomily at the sea.  She needed cheering up. Where could she go? Of course, it was market day.  Just over the road and behind the shops if she remembered correctly.

She was irresistibly drawn to her favourite spot, the Thingummy stall, with all its weird and wonderful objects.  But it was no longer there.  She was disappointed but the memories flooded back anyway…

“I’ll take that green one please Mister.”

“This one?”

He pointed to the crystal vase in the corner.

“Yep”

“There you go sweetheart.  Here I’ve wrapped it up in some pretty paper for you.  That’s ten bob please.”

Her face fell.

“But I’ve only got nine shillings and a penny and I’ve saved up for weeks…”

The man stood there for a while, stroking his chin, deep in thought.

“For someone special is it?”

“Yep, my Auntie Babs”

He grinned.

“Well now I’ve wanted some help on the stall; maybe we could come to some arrangement?”

“Thanks ever so, Mister!”

So she spent a happy summer working off her debt with the kindly man she came to know as Uncle Geoff.  Soon the day came where she was able to take the precious package home.

She watched entranced as her Auntie unwrapped it and took out the shining green glass.

“Oh Gemma, it’s beautiful. Here I have a place for it already on my mantelpiece.”

Gemma had grown to love this motherly woman who had taken in this lonely evacuee so far away from home; home, if you could call it that…

An unwelcome tear trickled down her cheek, and she furiously brushed it away.  She turned her attention to the slightly crumpled letter in her pocket.  It held the answers to her past and present…

She couldn’t remember how she managed to find her way to the familiar street, but here she was knocking on the big red door.  No answer.  She tried again.  Well maybe Auntie Babs was out.

“No one’s in love.  Want to leave a message?”

Turning Gemma saw a young woman.

“Yes, I came to see a Miss Babs Newton. Could you tell her Gemma dropped by, thanks.”

The young woman looked puzzled.

“Sorry love, there’s only a family called the Jacksons in that house.”

A chill swept over her.

“She’s…she’s not dead is she?”

“Hang on, do you mean the old dear who used to live here? The council moved her to those sheltered flats on the other side of town, near the Boswell estate.   Number 6, I think.”

“Thanks.”

The young woman nodded and disappeared indoors.

Her mind was in a whirl.  She found her way to the bus stop and caught the number 3 which stopped somewhere near her destination; she was hoping to find, what?

The bus stopped, jolting her out of her reverie; she sighed and got off.  Well, she thought, it was worth a try.  She hoped Auntie Babs would want to see her.  She could always escape quickly if she needed to…

Having reached the street, she found no 6 and knocked at the bright yellow door in trepidation.  Light footsteps followed and the door opened. The older woman standing in the doorway gasped:

“Why, Gemma, after all these years!”

Auntie Babs hadn’t changed much.  The blue eyes still shone out defiantly but her jet black hair was now a shock of white.

“Come on inside then, don’t just stand there love.”

The flat was much as Gemma had expected; neat but comfortable, with welcome warmth.  She sat down.

“I’ll make us a cup of coffee.”

Auntie Babs smoothed down her apron and went back into the kitchen.

Left on her own her eyes surveyed the room, and then…she saw it, glittering brilliantly in the afternoon sunshine from its place on the mantelpiece.

“Did you think I’d lost it?”

Auntie Babs had returned carrying a tray laden with coffee and biscuits; chocolate, her favourite.

Her aunt placed it down on the table.

“Please try and understand Gemma.  I had no choice.  The war was over and you had your family waiting for you…”

Gemma remained silent.  Auntie Babs laboured on.

“It didn’t change the fact that I loved you, though.  I never stopped thinking of you, hoping you were all right.”

Gemma stood up, shaking with anger:

“All right? You sent me back to that hell hole and you’re asking me if I was all right?  All I ever wanted was to stay with you and Uncle Geoff and, and..”

Hot tears began to fall down her cheeks.

Auntie Babs voice shook as she attempted to speak once more:

“Do you think it was easy, giving you up? They told me a child was better off with its parents, me being single and all.”

“You could have tried.”

“Please Gemma, it was different then, I had no clout, a woman on my own.  I couldn’t stand up to the authorities alone. Mind not that I didn’t try…”

“But, Uncle Geoff?”

“Aye there was him, but it was no good.  They seemed to know what was best or so I thought anyway…”

Babs eyes rested on a photograph in the corner.  Gemma followed her gaze, her sobs subsiding now.

Startled, she recognised the couple dressed in wedding clothes and smiling up at her.

“Yes we did marry”

Auntie Babs was quieter now.

“I didn’t know.”

“I don’t suppose you did, love; then the letters stopped and, well he was a comfort to me.  You would have looked lovely in the little dress I made for you…”

Wearily Gemma got up.

“Don’t go love, please stay, just for a little while longer.”

Gemma sighed and sat down again.

Babs took a breath and continued:

“It was a stroke of luck, meeting an old friend of your mum’s.  She gave me your latest address.  When I finally plucked up the courage to contact you I hoped you’d answer; but then I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything, it had been so long…”

Gemma was aware of a peace slowly sweeping over her.  When she spoke it was barely audible:

“I’ve missed you Auntie Babs…”

Her Auntie’s open arms were all she needed.  Babs held her close, stroking her hair gently.  Gradually she looked up.

“Did he die, Uncle Geoff I mean?”

“I’m afraid so, but we had many happy years together; after all it was you who brought us together.  He’d have been really proud of you, lass.”

“Do you think so?”

“Of course I do.  You were always his best girl, especially as we never had any of our own.”

Babs faltered briefly then took Gemma’s hands firmly in her own.

“Look love, we can’t recapture those lost years, but we can make some darn good new ones to replace them!”

“I’d like that.”

As they watched the sun filled the room with shafts of green light and Gemma knew she was home at last.

 

THE END

Reviews

[Will Neill]

Happy endings are rare in stories, your discriptions and vocals were spot on. a very enjoyable story.
will

[Sue]

Thank you :)