Writing for Fun
December 2015
Heaven Sent - Jenni Bowers
Sipping a hot chocolate Gillian sat gazing into her little courtyard garden, it was so peaceful here, but how she missed her lovely 3 bed semi full of laughing, fighting children, or having fun with Jeff, their dad, how she longed for the past.
They'd grown and flown, as children should of course, she should be proud they were so independent, unlike her friends children who were always around , visiting, taking them out, doing little things like shopping with them and having 'girlie lunches' (well that was the daughters) but even the boys were forever texting or visiting with the children.
Gillian's girl had moved so far away and without Jeffrey it was hard for her to carry on the visits, he'd done most of the driving until his heart attack and subsequent death, and now her eyes were failing, glaucoma had arrived at 74, she had given up the lovely Ford Focus and become a coach traveller. True Veronica did visit twice a year and the grandchildren, now all grown up and busy with their jobs and friends remembered to text her now and then – or, thank God for Facebook, chat when she spotted the little green sign that they were 'on-line'.
Her two sons had also moved away, the younger one now very busy with his good job in the city or at the weekends taking his own children to football, swimming and judo, not much time to visit mum, but he did ring her once a week.
The eldest, moving around the planet wherever his 'hush hush' job took him, rarely communicated with Gillian, she would try to send him letters via an army post office and his replies were few and far between – tears filled her eyes, oh bother, must stop reminiscing and feeling sorry for myself – but what shall I do today?
Drying her eyes she noticed movement under the Holly bush – a tiny red ball of fluff! Mug put down she quietly opened the French door and crept into the yard, the fluff didn't move so she bent down and picked up the sweetest little kitten ever – big blue eyes stared at her and with a faint squeak it proved to be alive and ready to chat.
Gillian knocked on a few doors but no-one claimed the kitten, so she put up a notice on the tree just outside her front door. Fluffy was delightful, gradually learning to trust Gillian and following her from room to room, leaping onto her chair or lap and purring happily as she stroked him – well presumably it was a him? After a few weeks she decided he should be seen by a vet and maybe an owner would have placed an advert there.
However, the vet just confirmed Fluffy was indeed male, neutered him and charged a nice fee. Over the ensuing weeks the pair became inseparable, Gillian would carry him in her shopping bag, he'd sleep on her bed or sit on her knee when not climbing the furniture, amusing her with his antics and playing with her ball of wool as she tried to knit.
She stopped thinking of the children every moment of every day and began to realise she loved this little ginger scrap, he was now her 'family'. They would chat most of the day, Fluffy used different tones of miaow in conversation and Gillian used different inflections in her voice to let him know if he was in favour or in bad books, as when he tried to knock her paintbrush from her hand when she began her water colour painting again - after that she decided to join a class, to rekindle an old ambition and learn to paint properly.
From that class she met a very nice lady friend, Carol, and the two of them decided to join the local community choir and also the Zumba classes which proved to be such fun. She even lost a few pounds and began to socialize with members of the two groups, even going to the theatre and lunches out - feeling healthier and happier.
Fluffy would be sitting by the front door awaiting her return and loudly signal his love for his 'mum', now the flat wasn't empty, Gillian looked forward to going home again, she'd scoop him up into her arms, hug him and say thank you – you were heaven sent little one.