We were two survivors doing our very best...
The little girl on the pebbled track reminded me of my Lucy, though this version of her only exists now in my head.
She would have been all long blonde hair and brightly coloured Wellingtons, just like this one. Don’t fret, though, Lucy hasn’t gone anywhere, not in that sense. She just grew up. I smiled at the little girl on the track, estimating her age to be about three. ‘Hello there.’
I waited for her mother, and probably a dog, to appear. I didn’t often walk down this way any more. Today I’d felt the need. I’d left the house in a huff leaving Dan, my husband, frowning at my bad mood.
The girl before me turned all shy, twisting where she stood like a sapling in the breeze. ‘Where’s your doggy?’
‘I don’t have a dog any longer. I have to go for walks on my own. Where’s your mummy?’
She gave a shrug, leaned down and picked up a stone. She splashed in a puddle, as if pretending she didn’t care.
‘Don’t go any further,’ I said. ‘Wait with me until she catches up.’
As we waited, a breeze whistled through the branches of the surrounding trees.
‘I’m sure she won’t be long,’ My brows creased when nobody appeared. ‘Where is she? I know, let’s go and find her. She can’t be far away.’
I offered my gloved hand and the girl stared at it. You shouldnever pass the time of day with strangers, should you? ‘My name’s Mary. I just want to find your mummy. Oh, or your daddy. Is your daddy with you?’
‘No.’
‘Your big sister or brother? Nanny, Granddad?’
‘No.’
This story is from the April 24, 2018 edition of WOMAN'S WEEKLY.
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This story is from the April 24, 2018 edition of WOMAN'S WEEKLY.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
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