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A New Start

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Rating: PG

“It's a fabulous flat isn't it, mum?” My thirty- five year old daughter Rachel asked.

I nodded. We were currently in the newly decorated living room. 

I was thankful that the landlord (who was with us) had taken a step back. He'd allowed us to view the property without giving us the hard sell. 

“Light, warm and airy with a view of the park,” she went on. 

I peered out of the window. 

It did indeed have a pleasant view – however, being early December, it was a misty, rainy day. 

“It has all the mod cons built in - washing machine, tumble dryer, dishwasher, microwave and an oven. Plus, carpets, curtains and blinds, broadband and a car parking bay,” she outlined.

I smiled. “Yes. They're all added bonuses.” 

“You could put the Christmas tree in this corner...” she indicated a space by the window. “Don't forget mum, cinemas, art galleries and theatres are a twenty minute bus ride away and it's a short stroll to the park and the shops. Oh, it'll be good to have you close.” 

She affectionately squeezed my arm.

I nodded. It would.

Being near Rachel would be lovely, yet...  I said I needed time to think it over and we bid farewell to landlord. 

Clutching umbrellas, we ambled through the foggy December drizzle and headed towards the park cafe for lunch. 

It was a pretty park, with a boating lake and plenty of benches. 

Rachel had mentioned that a miniature steam train ran in the spring and summer.  However, at the moment, it was all muddy paths, damp grass and clumps of fallen leaves. 

The cafe was nicely decorated in shiny Christmas green, red and gold. It was quite busy and we were lucky to find a table. I liked the robin shaped salt and pepper pots.

“Dave and I come in here a lot,” Rachel explained. 

Dave was Rachel's partner. He was a handsome, self assured solicitor, always well dressed in suits. He styled his hair perfectly and he wore expensive aftershave. 

Although Dave was polite and friendly towards me, I admit that I had mixed feelings about him. He reminded me of someone, but I couldn't think who... 

As we approached the counter, Rachel smiled to the young, pretty, slim female assistant, who was wearing an elf costume.

Despite the merry melodies on the radio, the girl didn't return Rachel's smile -  in fact, she looked a bit out of sorts...  maybe she didn't like wearing the elf costume, I mused. 

With an ill- fitting tunic, stripy tights and an awkward hat, it was hardly flattering.

I picked up the menu, but I didn't feel very hungry.

It wasn't surprising. Recently divorced, I had a big decision to make. 

Should I move to an unfamiliar city where my daughter and her partner lived, or should I stay put in my home town?


“See it as a fresh beginning,” my widowed neighbour Kitty began.

“Yes. I could do that.” When I replied to Kitty, I sounded hesitant. 

It was a few days later. We were sitting in my cosy kitchen, having a cuppa and sampling Kitty's home- made mince pies. 

I glanced out into the garden. Dusk would descend soon, so I'd switched on the outdoor lights.

The new rented flat had a communal garden, so come spring, I wouldn't be able to plant anything of my own... however, if I moved, I'd be nearer work – a strong plus point. 

I stifled a sigh. Oh, if only I could afford to resign! 

I'd had an office job for a long while. I worked for a large insurance firm. 

I longed for a change but I'd told myself that a steady salary was too precious to throw away. Plus, I was over 55. I knew that employment opportunities for people my age were thin on the ground.

“What would you do?” I asked Kitty.

“I've lived in this small town all of my seventy five years. I was born and brought up here. I married here, and I raised my children here - but I've been happy and content. For me, there's comfort in security,” she said.

“I can understand that. I just don't fancy facing the stress of a house move, especially coming up to Christmas,” I confessed. 

“You could turn that stress into excitement. Well, I don't mind admitting Helen, that I'll miss you dreadfully.” 

“I'll miss you, too.” 

Kitty was a good, trusted, loyal friend. 

When I'd confided in her about my marital troubles, she hadn't judged - she'd just listened and offered emotional support. 

I'd done my best to return the compliment when her husband had passed away... I switched my thread of thought back to Rachel. 

She and Dave had met via app dating. Head over heels, she'd moved into his swish, slick apartment after a month. 

It was a quick decision. I urged her to keep her own place, but as I'd said to Kitty, practical matters aren't seen as a priority when it comes to matters of the heart.

But she has her job to focus on.

Rachel's a primary school teacher, so the couple have strong careers. 

As for my career - well, my life has been very different! 

Unhappily married (My husband was a workaholic) when Rachel started school, I found myself a clerical based job. It occupied my mind and it provided a sense of optimism.

Later, after Rachel had left home for university, I realised that my husband and I were living separate lives. He still has a loving, good relationship with Rachel, though.


When we went to view the flat a second time, Rachel was still raving about it.

“Do you know, I'd settle in here so easily, Mum,” she admitted. 

It was tempting to say, 'I'll take it' and get caught up in that heady 'moving home' phase - but I didn't. 

“I'm sorry but I need more time to make a decision,” I told the landlord.

He folded his arms. “I can't hang about forever, Mrs Brooks. I know Christmas is a busy time, so I'll give you a deadline of New Year's Day.”

I nodded. 

A few days passed. It was strange that Rachel hadn't called me.

I  wondered if everything was okay between them. 

I recalled recent visits to theirs. I'd picked up a slight tension in the air, so I hadn't lingered.

It was Saturday evening, so the couple might be getting ready for a night out, I reasoned. It was also December, the month of seasonal socialising - perhaps they were going to a party? 

I decided to text her.

There was no reply, but twenty minutes later, my mobile rang.

“I couldn't call you back straight away. We were in the middle of a quarrel.” Rachel sounded stressed out and miserable.

“I'm sorry to hear that, love.”

“It's Saturday night but I expect Dave's returned to the office. Do you know mum, I think he's married to his blasted career!”

Alarm bells from the past rang. “You need to talk.”

“I've tried. Anyway, have you had a good week?” As we chatted, I suddenly remembered who Dave reminded me of. 

My ex- husband.


Rachel's staying with me - luckily, she's begun the Christmas break.

She was utterly heartbroken when Dave finally confessed to seeing the cafe girl. 

It had been going on for months, all under the disguise of extra legal work. 

I recalled our visit to the park cafe-  the assistant's off-hand manner towards Rachel now made sense. The cafe girl had probably seen a photo of Rachel on Dave's mobile.

I really felt for Rachel. 

We'll be spending Christmas together. I'll make sure that we'll have a peaceful, mellow time. 

In the New Year, she's moving into the flat we looked at. It'll be a brand new start for her.

I need to give my own life a shake, too.

“I'm going to look for a different job,” I announced to Rachel. “ Something more rewarding. Maybe work for a charity, on the admin side.” 

She smiled. “I reckon a charity will appreciate a mature candidate. That's a good idea, mum. Go for it!”

The day got better when Kitty arrived with a fresh batch of home- made mince pies!

I'm fifty- something, happily married and I write short stories to help me deal with anxiety.