May 2012
'She's no better than she ought to be, with her gallivanting,' was the way Tom's mother described her, but Tom loved Dolly, she ran the Baker's shop on the opposite corner. Tom would call in after school and have a chat, he told her about his day, they giggled together about the customers and their funny ways.
Dolly 's husband George, a thin dour looking man, worked all night in the bakery, emerging tired and pale. He would open the shop and Dolly would take over.
'He's away this weekend, goes away once a month.' Dolly told Tom. 'He says to see his mother,' she tapped her finger on the side of her nose, 'I'm not so sure about that. He never invites me.'
That night Tom was woken by the lights of a car shining in his window, he got up to see what was happening, a taxi was parked outside the bakery, Dolly and a tall man got out and, arms round each other, hurried into the flat.
Next time he saw her, Tom asked her about the tall man.
'Oh that's my cousin. George doesn't like him so he usually comes when George is away. Keep it to yourself.' she said and tapped her finger against her nose and winked. 'He's a sailor, that's where I get most of my elephants from.' Dolly had a wonderful collection of elephants, china, brass, silver and best of all a tiny bean, no bigger than a pea; when you removed the teeny stopper, out would tumble twelve minute ivory elephants.
It was time for Tom's parents to take their annual holiday. Every year they went to Highcliff on Sea. Tom went to say goodbye to Dolly, He had told her all about Highcliff, the beach with its little rock pools full of strange creatures, the pier, the amusements, the gardens.
'Sounds lovely,' she said, 'maybe I'll go there one day. We never go on holiday. George says we can't afford it, but I know he's got pots of money hidden away in the bakery.' she did the nose tapping thing. 'He doesn't know I found his hiding place. Goodbye, have a lovely holiday,' she handed Tom the little raffia box which held the tiny bean.
'No I can't . . .' began Tom.
'Something to remember me by.' She gave Tom a big hug.
Tom's family always stayed at the Royalty Guest House on the seafront. Each year they did the same things, swimming off the beach, the amusements on the pier, crazy golf. By the pier in a little kiosk sat the glass blowing man, he made amazing little glass animals. Tom asked him to make a special elephant, to give to Dolly when he returned home. He was looking forward to seeing how pleased she would be, glad they were going home that afternoon.
When they pulled up outside their house, they were shocked to see the bakery was no longer there, just one wall and a pile of rubble, firemen were sifting through the remains. Tom's father went over to find out what had happened. It seems the oven exploded or something, no one knows for sure. George was away. He's OK. There is no sign of Dolly. Devastated, Tom ran to his room, clutching the little glass elephant; he wept as if his heart would break, soaking the little animal with his tears.
It was years later when Tom was driving back from seeing a client; he saw a signpost for Highcliff, curiosity compelled him to take a detour, he drove along the seafront. Apart from seeming smaller, nothing much had changed, the old Royalty was still there looking just a touch more run down. As he waited at the traffic lights, a sleek black Daimler pulled up alongside. In the passenger seat sat a glamorous blonde. Tom stared, he thought he saw a faint look of recognition in her eyes, she tapped her finger on the side of her nose and smiled. The lights changed, and she was gone.