Of course she didn’t. Her head would be full of school and events and socialising and her big house and…
Other things.
I grinned ruefully and increased my pace.
If I were quick I could maybe scrounge a doughnut from Cathy at the front desk.
It would be the second best thing about my day.
.:.
The drizzle had formed glittering gems on the grass; the trees were dripping apologetically on me as I drifted on under them, a tie-died fairy queen in her natural domain.
I snorted at myself and my silly conceits.
I was a rather bedraggled fairy queen today.
I wiped my face, wishing once again that I had a nice rain jacket.
Maybe next time the big Decathlon had a sale I could go have a look, if I could get the day off. In the meantime my dad’s old coat would have to do. The dark blue wool at least shed some of the damp without growing cold.
I was looking forward to getting to the office. I’d be able to strip down and dry my face and hair, safe for the weather for a moment.
I loved both the mist and the rain, but after a point even a creature like me had to admit that a bit of sun would be nice…
The woman was sitting today – posed aesthetically on one of the memorial benches that lined the path.
Sitting by herself.
With her head and coat open to the drizzle and her hair plastered to her.
And no lead anywhere near her and no crackers Spaniel to be seen…
Oh.
Oh no.
Suddenly her pose made sense.
She was in pain.
I slowed as I neared her.
Now I could faintly hear the hopeless little sobs, see the way her shoulders shook…
My heart ached for her as she reached up and wiped at her eyes and nose.
Surely I could just check she was okay. Surely I would be permitted to do that…
So I swallowed my nerves and slowly closed with her.
“Hi there,” I murmured as I reached her.
She jerked and turned partly away as she desperately tried to put her mask back on.
“Hello? Are you… okay?” I asked, as soft and gentle as I could possibly be.
“It’s fine. I’m okay, thanks,” she managed to fib, muffled by the hand with which she wiped her face.
She had the most amazing voice and the most perfect accent; the unhelpful part of me would have been perfectly content as a drooling mess on the damp ground in front of her despite her obvious distress.
I beat that wanton and vexing bit of my psyche back and away so I could focus on the here and now.
“Um… are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll be fine…” she whispered.
“But… you’re drenched. You’re soaked through and it’s cold this morning.”
She paused, then sighed.
“I… suppose I am.”
I stared at her, at the rigid way she held her shoulders and refused to look at me.
Bugger that.
She needed someone.
“I’m going to come and sit next to you because I’m a pushy person and I’m really bad at taking hints,” I said, as I unanimously elected myself to be that someone.
She said nothing, just shifted ever so slightly as I sat down.
“I’m Willa,” I said. “What’s your name?”
“Sam,” she reluctantly admitted, after a brief silence. She sniffed again.
“Hi Sam. I’m just going to sit here for a bit, alright? Just until I’m sure you’re okay.”
“It’s… going to be a long… wait then,” she managed in jagged little gasps; I could see she was desperately trying not to cry any more.
“Oh. I don’t mind. And… listen, I know my hair is horribly intimidating but I promise I’m harmless.And here’s the thing – I’m a top-notch listener. I can… listen to you? If you’d like?”
She made a small sound and shuddered once. Then she scrubbed furiously at her eyes.
“Sorry. I’m making an idiot of myself. I thought I’d be able to just be alone here and have a quiet little cry somewhere where it didn’t matter…”
“Not much chance of that. Too many nosy people around,” I said with a gentle smile. “Sam… why are you so sad? What’s wrong?”
“Flora… my dog… she’s at the vet.”
“Oh. Oh no.”
“I don’t think she’s coming home to me. I think this is it…”
“Oh no. Oh, I’m so sorry!”
“This… was my sanctuary,” she gulped. “Coming here with Flora. Just having an hour or two in the morning where I could be me without having to wear a costume and pretend. Where there were no expectations of me other than that I was there to stroke her and love her and praise her and throw her ball.”
“Pretend… what…”
“That I’ve got it together. That everything is… okay.”
“What isn’t okay?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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