Message To My Love
A nostalgic romance
readful weather we’re having,” Mum said to a woman in a see-through rain hat and an anklelength yellow mackintosh, as we stood at the bus stop getting soaked.
That’s when I entered my own little world.
Teachers at school often said I’d do so much better if I didn’t daydream, that I may even get a couple of O-Levels. But I couldn’t seem to help drifting off.
And it was as the rain hammered on Mum’s umbrella like clog-dancing ants, and the gusts of wind howled past as though we were about to get whisked away to The Emerald City, blowing my mass of red hair in front of my face, that I saw Mrs Green.
“Hello, Ebony,” she said, her bright blue eyes meeting mine, as she smiled, showing tiny teeth that were a little on the grey side of white.
The year was 1975. I remember, because I’d just turned fifteen and my parents had bought me a Bay City Rollers vinyl for my birthday. It was the year I developed a massive crush on Redd, Mr and Mrs Green’s grandson.
Mrs Green had lived round the corner from us with her husband, until she died a few weeks before. Of course, I had no doubts at all that this made her a ghost, when I saw her that day at the bus stop, but I wasn’t afraid. She’d been kind when she was alive, so I felt sure she’d be just as kind now she was dead.
I turned to tell Mum that Mrs Green was with us, but she was deep in conversation with the lady with the see-through hat and yellow mac, talking about the ridiculous price of fish fingers.
Mum had often said Mr and Mrs Green were a miracle of science, because they’d never once argued in their sixty years of marriage. I knew it must be true, because my mum loved my dad, and they still argued a bit.
“I’d like you to take my brooch to Redd, please, Ebony,” Mrs Green said that day, as she unpinned a butterfly brooch from the lapel of her china-blue coat and handed it to me. “Tell him to give it to his grandpa, and when he does, he’s to say, ‘and the rest’. His grandpa will know what it means.”
I felt my eyes widen. Although I had a crush on Redd, I’d never spoken to him before. I didn’t have the first idea how. The thought of taking him the brooch sent my heart into a beating overdrive.
I held the brooch in my hands for several seconds, feeling sure I saw its wings flutter, and its colour change from blue to violet in front of my eyes.
I tugged at Mum’s arm in an attempt to show her, but a little crowd had gathered now, and they were huddled together, moaning about the weather, and the fact the bus was late.
When I looked back, Mrs Green was no longer there. “Mrs Green,” I called, looking about. Mum turned, her forehead crinkling as rain speckled her face. “What did you say, Ebony?” Before I could reply, the bus pulled up, splashing through puddles, and almost covering us with water. I shoved the brooch into my pocket and climbed on board with the others.
“Nothing,” I called, heading for the back seat. I pulled my Jackie magazine