Their Evening

Pearl pink and pale yellow reflected in her wet eyes with every step she took. The salty smell of fish and chips and seawater drifted around like the boats on the still water. It was just the three of them. Sister. Brother. Mother. Like it had been for seven years. The colours in the sky were mixing, changing. A new member was to join.
He watched as the plane left a crisp white path on the blue banner. They were to welcome a strange face. Strange eyes. Strange hands. Adults though they were, inside, small children shrunk.
Seven years echoed in her thoughts. Seven. Now a new love had washed into her life, into her children’s life. It was time to open the door to him. She had told her children this tonight, and as the afternoon fell away, they sat staring silently at the shimmering, rolling waves.
Pearl pink and pale yellow reflected in her wet eyes. Couldn’t these colours stay like this forever?


Meet Margery

Mother, I’m so sorry it’s been such a long time since I visited you. The thing is Amy is becoming such a handful, and it’s really only been since her ninth birthday, last month. You know, the other day, she broke the vase you bought me for my 28th birthday. Do you remember? The blue one with red spots? Of course she blamed it on poor little Sam. He’s nearly five now. He tried to bite Amy, you see, and then Amy, such a sly girl started to blame Sam for everything. It’s really quite chaotic at home, Mother. You’d put them both back in their places, I know you would. They miss their Granny. It’s really only me, Amy and Sam. David’s so busy with his allotment. He’s practically married to his vegetables! He misses you so dearly. You know, he considered you more of a mother than his own. Oh, I wish you’d come home, Mother. How you would gasp at my children’s behaviour! And David would get such an earful. I do feel for him though. He’s not dealing with his grief very well. If only you could come home for just one day and…no, I’m sorry. I came here to be with you and listen to the band. I brought your favourite: black pepper crackers and cream cheese, a flask of Earl Grey tea and some tangerines. How’s your bad back, Mother?
“Excuse me, may I sit here?” a thin, old man asks, leaning delicately on his wooden stick.
“Oh, of course.”
He sits down in Mother’s spot and I stand up to leave. Mother needs somewhere to sit and I can’t very well tell the old man to hike over the road to the other bench.
“Don’t leave on my account. It would be nice to have some company,” he says.
“You’ve already got some great company sitting right next to you. Meet Margery, my mother.”