She’d never been out of the confines of her parent’s farm before, and Lucy was silent, overwhelmed by every new thing she saw. She was wearing a coat, with a matching bonnet tied under her chin, and her mother held her hand tightly. She kept Lucy so close to her side that Lucy’s hat rubbed against her mother’s tweed coat, chafing her cheek with every step taken. Any discomfort caused by the hat or the too-tightly held hand was disregarded in the thrill of this special day. At four years of age, she’d always been a quiet, well-behaved child who accepted life unquestioningly, but today she was mute as she struggled to make sense of her surroundings.
Her only sibling, Jessie, worked somewhere in the city and rarely got home, but when she did, she brought treats for everyone and was the only one who’d ever played games with her. The days when Jessie was at home were fun and made Lucy’s life much brighter, but sometimes there were long gaps before Jessie returned and the family saw her. So, Lucy grew up solitary and self-reliant, undemanding and uncomplaining. Apart from Jessie, her parents, and Sam, the elderly man who helped her father with the cows, Lucy had never met anyone and had no idea life could ever be different. The farm was her whole world.
That morning, she’d been rearranging the toys in her bedroom, when she’d heard her parents talking. ‘It’s time for her to see and be seen.’ Her father had said. ‘She starts school next month.’
He mother sighed, ‘I know. I’m not looking forward to this, but I’ll do it today.’
Lucy had been dressed in her best clothes and told she was going for an ‘’adventure’’ with Mummy. They would travel by bus into the local town and do some shopping. Travelling by bus was thrilling, but when they arrived in town she was awestruck by each new sight and sound. She’d never seen a traffic light, a shop, or so many people and she could sense her mother’s tension, as she urged Lucy along, seemingly unaware of either the speed of their walking or the painful grip she kept on the child’s hand.
Eventually, Lucy was guided into a cafe where her mother ordered a cup of tea and sat down at a small table. Lucy was given something she hadn’t had before – ice cream in a glass bowl, with a spoon to eat it. It had chocolate sauce swirling over the vanilla ice and Lucy had never seen anything quite so impressive. The day seemed to get better and better, and she lifted the spoon to her mouth with great care.
While she sipped the steaming tea her mother appeared to relax. She smiled gently at Lucy, ‘Take your bonnet off while we’re inside and be careful not to spill anything.’ She nodded towards the dish in front of Lucy and her smile got wider, ‘It looks good.’
Just then a voice called out from the direction of the café entrance, ‘Is that Lydia Anstruther? I haven’t seen you for years.’
Lucy saw her mother slowly turn towards the voice. She watched silently as the colour drained from her mother’s face. Her fingers became tighter on the handle of her cup and her knuckles whitened. Her smile had disappeared, and it seemed a great effort for her to form any words. ‘Kaye. Nice to see you.’
Her mother’s face was taut and pinched when she spoke, and Lucy knew she didn’t really mean that seeing Kaye was nice.
The woman rapidly approaching their table was small and plump with sharp, darting eyes that missed nothing. As she got nearer and could see Lucy’s head bending over her ice cream, the eyes widened, and her voice seemed over-loud in the small room as she demanded, ‘Is this your Jessie’s girl?’
Lucy saw her mother swallow hard and her lips become thin as she said firmly, ‘This is Lucy. Our little girl.’
Kaye’s chuckle had a harsh edge as she stared hard at Lucy’s auburn curls, newly released from the covering of her hat. She reluctantly dragged her eyes away from the child, who was considering her silently, and turned again to Lydia with a look of satisfaction. ‘What a nice little secret you’ve been keeping up at that farm of yours. She looks just like her mum at that age.’
Burnside Writers Group 