Memories

The bus slowed to a stop and a few passengers climbed off, leaving the woman alone on the top deck. She’d been daydreaming, idly watching the passing scenery, but now her attention shifted to the view across the road.

Her back straightened and suddenly alert she gave a breathy gasp.

They had come to a halt outside her old home - the cottage she’d sold twenty years ago, a place she hadn’t thought of for a very long time.

While passengers boarded, she stared at the house, taking it in again, realising that it had hardly changed. Even the front door was still the same cherry-red she’d painted it all those years ago.

As the bus moved off, climbing the hill into town, memories of living in that old house came flooding back.

It had felt like her own little piece of England, nestled in an ancient market town where the bells of St Mary’s rang out across the rooftops every day - the quintessential sound of England. They summoned thoughts of Sunday roast beef, family teas, her great-aunt’s ginger cat asleep beside the fire, and crisp winter walks across snowy paddocks to feed the ponies.

The bus gathered speed and she turned her head, trying to keep the cottage in view for as long as possible. The last thing she saw was the worn stone steps that lead up to the front door - the door to the first home that had truly been her own.

She gave a little shiver as she remembered how, in summer, she’d often sit on the top step and watch the world go by. The stone had been cold and rough beneath her hands, the exact opposite to the feeling she got whenever she stepped inside the house.

Then, she’d been gathered into the warm embrace of the seventeenth-century cottage, its ancient walls seeming to wrap themselves around her, sheltering her from whatever the world chose to throw her way.

She’d loved sitting on those steps. They were worn with shallow scoops made by the footsteps of generations who’d lived in the cottage before her. She’d often wondered about those people and imagined them rising each morning to the same pale light filtering through the windows.

They would have gone about their work, fallen in love, married, raised children and they, too, would have grieved their losses.

One of them had planted the dark red rose that climbed over the porch, and suddenly she could smell its sweet perfume again. She remembered how it had filled the evening air with the scent of love and romance.

Her vision blurred as she recalled the very first time she’d sat on those steps, breathing in the scented night air. For a fleeting moment, she had imagined herself standing beneath the rose arch, her husband pulling her close for a kiss.

But then the daydream had dissolved and, with a jolt, she’d remembered - he was gone. 

She was alone in her beautiful cottage, surrounded by centuries of other people’s lives, quietly beginning the next chapter of her own.

As the bus chugged up the hill, a tear slipped down her cheek. She still missed him.

Many years had passed since his death, yet sometimes it still felt as though half of her were missing.

People had said that time would heal. But it hadn’t and she was sure nothing could heal the heart that had once beat only for him. Yet time had done something else. It had given her a second life. Another chance.

When she'd finally felt ready, she’d grasped at her new beginning with both hands knowing how lucky she was to have found the strength to start again. Gradually she rebuilt a life from the shattered remains of the old one and with every step she took she’d felt he was there, walking beside her, quietly urging her on.

He was the inspiration for everything she’d done. If he was watching, she knew he’d be proud of her and that helped to lessen the pain making it possible to look back on their life together smiling at all the wonderful memories.

The bus pulled into the railway station. She wiped away the tear, climbed down onto the pavement and hurried towards the platform, where her train was waiting to carry her back to the life she had made for herself.

And waiting for her there was the happiness she’d once thought she’d never find again.