So, what would be left for him? Matthew would love to be able to share his journey with another person again; is this her? Before he knows it, he’s answering the door.
Outside darkness is gently beginning to fall. Standing on the doorstep gazing back at Matthew with smiles on their faces and bright beady eyes are two Jehovah’s Witnesses. They’re both wearing matching black and white suits. He can see the thick black straps hanging over their shoulders from the backpacks on their backs. They both have similar short, neat hairstyles. Matthew notices that not only is their appearance strangely mirroring one another’s, like identical twins, but they both appear to be holding the same items in the same manner in their hands. Each one holds a Bible in one hand and a chunk of leaflets in the other. One of the friendly looking gents speaks up. “Sir, do you have a moment to talk about our Lord, Christ the saviour?” he says in a confident and loud tone.
“Erm, sorry lads, I’m a bit busy right now.”
“We promise, sir, we’ll only take a moment of your
t—”
Before he finishes his sentence the two men freeze. Perfectly in sync with each other, they release the silky leaflets they are holding, letting them drop on the floor. Again, in sync with each other, they cling to their Bibles, holding them tightly with both hands.
Moving his head back slightly, Matthew looks on, confused, at this random unexpected action. Both the Jehovah’s Witnesses now have their eyelids wide open. It looks as though their eyes are beginning to protrude from out of their sockets. Without any explanation, they slowly start to walk backwards and in an almost robotic-sounding manner, the Jehovah’s Witness who hasn’t yet spoken says, “We’re sorry to disturb you, sir. You have a pleasant, erm, evening now.”
With their smart, immaculate black shoes, they begin placing one foot behind the other and continue to walk slowly backwards. The pair, still clinging to their Bibles, do not make any attempt to turn around. Without breaking eye contact with Matthew, they vanish into thin air.
“You forgot your leaflets.” Bending down to pick them up, he shakes his head. “That was weird…”
He looks at the leaflets; they’re pale blue with a picture of the clearest sky. Spread out in the middle of the clouds, in white bold font, is a slogan that reads: “Why you can trust the bible: One man died for us all.” Standing strong and proud towards the bottom of the leaflet is a white cross. Matthew stares out into the garden. Stepping backwards into the house, as he reaches to shut the door, he looks up and sees an outline approaching him. Assuming it’s one of the Jehovah’s Witnesses returning for their leaflets, he says, “Ah, here you go, gents.” But he gets no reply.
Confused, he looks more closely at the outline that’s making its way towards him. He can see a single figure. It’s Jess. She’s standing tall and making her way up the path with a smile on her face. Her lips are painted red and her long dark-brown hair is beautifully styled and blowing in the breeze. She looks glamourous, wearing a tight-fitted red dress which sits perfectly around her waist and hips. The material is hugging her figure with perfection. This woman oozes a provocative energy; Matthew is captivated. There isn’t anything at this point that could stop this man from falling in immediate love with this woman; like a love-struck boy, he’s hooked.
As he locks eyes with Jess, he’s speechless. Her eye colour is the deepest shade of brown, but when she looks at him they become so intense, they spark and almost look as though they’re turning an enticing shade of black. Matthew is mesmerised. Jess stands looking back at Matthew in an extremely flirtatious manner. For the second time today, he is staring at her.
“Good evening, Matthew.”
The only word his mind can process is, “Hi…”
Looking confident and satisfied with his reaction to her presence, she immediately responds, “Well – are you going to invite me in, or are we eating outside?”
“S-sorry, erm, yes, p-please, come in,” Matthew replies, finally snapping out of his trance.
Clutching a sliver clasp bag and wearing strappy silver three-inch stiletto heels, she places one foot in front of the other, strutting her stuff as she enters the house. Her walk is captivating.
“Eve has decided she won’t be joining us this evening,” Matthew says as he closes the door.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure she’s seen enough of me for one day,” Jess replies, not looking too concerned.
Matthew looks embarrassed. “Honestly, she really is a beautiful girl inside and out. I know you two would really get on,” he says.
Jess says nothing, looking at him with a whatever-you-say kind of expression.
“She’s never rude to anyone – actually, I haven’t seen her like that before. Even after everything we’ve been through, she’s never been that rude to another person.”
Jess starts to laugh. “Should I feel honoured, then?”
Matthew decides it’s best to get off the subject of Eve. He invites Jess into the dining room.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” Then, remembering her comment about coffee earlier, he smiles and adds, “Or does it taste too much like wine?”
“Wine would be great. Thank you.”
Realising his joke has fallen flat, Matthew awkwardly laughs. He then goes to the kitchen and returns with a bottle of rosé.
“My favourite wine. Have you been secretly spying on me, Mr Honey?”
Blushing at this coincidence, he replies, “No, I only stalk people on the weekend.”
There is a sudden bang. Matthew and Jess look up at the dining room door.
“Eve!” Matthew shouts. There’s no reply.
Excusing himself, he heads to the front door. He opens it and shouts once again, “Eve…” Still, he gets nothing back.
Matthew stands on the cold grey step outside the door, wearing nothing but his black socks on his feet. He hears the sound of waves gently crashing onto the beach one after the other. The tide’s now coming in and the scent of salty water is in the air. Looking out, Matthew can’t see a single person.
Eve is already halfway down the street. Marching down the pathway at a speedy pace, she’s made her decision: she doesn’t like this woman and can’t explain why, all she knows is something just doesn’t feel right. Eve has absolutely no desire to be in Jess’s presence. Even as the darkness engulfs her small frame, she doesn’t care. She’s on a mission and nothing is going to get in her way.
When her mum died, to occupy her mind and bring a sense of meaning to her life, Eve created “Lauren’s Garden of Secrets” so she would always have somewhere to go and be alone with her thoughts and her mum. Each time she heads here with just one intention – to feel her mum’s presence and speak to her whilst also, if required, letting off some steam. Eve asks for guidance, help, love and support from the spiritual world surrounding her, with belief and faith that it’s her mum’s spiritual influence. This healing process may not be for everyone and sometimes passers-by look at her like she’s insane as she moves around in frustration, trying desperately to gain some form of understanding. She doesn’t always receive the answers she wants, but this process helps her walk away with some form of clarity. Eve knows that after today’s events and what is currently going on in the house, “Lauren’s Garden of Secrets” is the only place she wants to be, and so that is where she is heading at full speed.
The street lights are shining brightly and as she passes directly under them they light up her face. She’s bright red, huffing, puffing and out of breath. She’s wearing her light denim ripped jeans, black school leavers hoodie and her hiking trainers, with her backpack hanging low off her shoulders. It’s tatty brown suede with brightly coloured badges sown on the side.
Ideally, Eve doesn’t want to return to the house until Jess has left, but she knows she must be home no later than 10 p.m. Gripping the straps of her backpack with both hands, Eve suddenly fills wit
h intense anger and aggression. Unable to hold the words in any longer, she begins talking to herself out loud: “Why is Dad putting me in this position? I don’t understand. Was I not loud enough? I showed him. I am not ready to deal with the replacement of Mum. Why is he ignoring this?”
Still without answers, Eve takes a deep breath in and slowly begins counting back from five. She calms slightly, becoming less irritated with every inch she gets further away from home and closer to her destination. Eve looks to the sky and speaks to the stars, questioning the universe: “Is this how it’s supposed to be? Am I supposed to sit back and watch my dad forget all about my mum – and then what, just move on like she never existed? Am I expected to play happy family with another woman? Oh, hello step-mum, yes, my day’s been amazing, what about yours? Yeah, right, like I care, just saying it doesn’t feel right! Why are you doing this to me?”
Puzzled, alone and running out of energy, Eve feels her aggression begin to subside as her head throbs. Feeling a deep inner sense of grief, Eve continues speaking out loud: “I’ve just lost one parent; do I really have to go through it all again? I’ve just started to have a normal relationship with my dad. A real father-daughter relationship. You should know I’ve not had that since I was little. I ask you, universe – have you given him his wish? Is my dad truly going to risk losing me for a woman he’s just met?”
Eve slows down as she mulls over this question. Staring down at the street, she places one foot in front of the other. Her mind begins projecting a memory through the windows of her eyes.
Eve sees her dad. He’s a broken man. He sits on a brown mahogany bench, wearing a black suit with a small artificial sunflower tucked in the pocket on the front of his jacket. It’s her mum’s funeral.
Her dad is sobbing uncontrollably. Reaching out, Eve holds him tightly in her arms, placing his head close to her heart. She’s wearing the silver chain and heart-shaped locket round her neck. Eve rests her chin in her dad’s hair as tears roll down her face.
In the huge church with its extravagant multi-coloured stained-glass windows, Eve is surrounded by relatives and loved ones. She’s in complete disbelief and shock at the harsh reality that it’s her precious mum lying lifeless in the box in front of her. Unable to control her emotions anymore and unable to console this broken man in her arms, she releases him and runs over to the coffin.
Eve’s expression is pained – she almost looks nothing like herself, she is that exhausted. She has allowed her emotions to take full control. Before she has time to process her actions, she heads towards the coffin with tears streaming from her eyes and fluid uncontrollably gushing from her nose. Her face is swollen. Eve can barely see the floor beneath her feet, let alone what’s in front of her. But what she can see, as clear as the daylight outside, is the white coffin that holds her mum’s lifeless body. In utter desperation and not wanting to accept the reality, she kicks out and screeches, “Noooooooo…”
The white wooden coffin is at the centre of the ceremony, the main focus of the church, standing strong on the platform. It’s surrounded by beautiful, bright sunflowers that beam radiantly like the sun in all its glory. Yellow and orange luminous bouquets share their natural glow, creating a warm, angelic vision. And yet, the energy, the mood, the vibration is the complete opposite. Approaching the platform, Eve reaches out in her desperate attempt to grab the coffin. Suddenly, Eve is stopped and forcefully turned around. She sees it’s her mum’s twin sister, her Auntie Christina. She’s wearing black from head to toe and has a black netted veil draped over her face. She holds Eve tightly in an attempt to console this young vulnerable soul, whispering in Eve’s ear, “Ssshhhhhhh…”
They collapse onto the floor, and Christina whispers once more into Eve’s ear, “Sshhh… My child, my precious Eve, I know your pain – she was once my only best friend too.”
With these words, Eve crumbles. She starts rocking back and forth. She’s inconsolable and begins screaming out in pain, “Why? Please come back to me. I’m sorry! Mum… I said I’m sorry – I never meant for this to happen… Please God, take me instead.”
Quickly shaking this vision out of her head, Eve comes back to reality. She continues to march down the streets, wiping the tears off her face as she proceeds with her mission. Walking at an even faster pace, her breath gets quicker and quicker as her heartrate increases. Eve feels a wrench in her stomach as her mind brings up another memory, this time of her dad.
They’re at home in the day room. Matthew sits on the brown cosy couch with a glass of red wine in his hand, beige decorative cushions either side. He’s talking away to Eve, as she’s sat on the floor, but this time he has happiness in his features and a smile on his face. They are surrounded by pictures and boxes overflowing with old photographs. The boxes smell damp and have scuffs on the edges where they’ve been banged about and stored away for years, transferred from home to home.
The room is warm and cosy as the fire flickers, spreading its natural glow. Matthew almost spills his red wine in his excitement as he shares stories of the adventures he enjoyed with her mum. The photographs are endless. So many memories and so many wonderful times. Her dad is joyful and smiling as he relives the moment in each picture, for its uniqueness, as though it was happening today. This makes her genuinely smile.
Eve looks at the ground as the memory fades. Why is her dad willing to risk losing what they have built for some woman he’s known for a matter of hours? Eve’s unable to answer this. Her heart rate has speeded up and she’s completely out of breath and at the same time relieved as she finally arrives at her destination, “Lauren’s Garden of Secrets”.
A simple wooden bench stands strong, beautifully positioned at the top of a cliff. The scene is simple, yet stunning. Eve can just about make out the outline of the sandy cliffs that surround the beach. The sun has long since dipped below the horizon, but she is still able to observe the beauty of the ocean. Closing her eyes, Eve can hear the waves as they gently bring the tide in. Breathing deeply, she can taste the salt in the air.
Eve never struggled to embrace the beauty of nature when she was younger. She knew she was blessed, she knew the importance of life. But now she struggles to feel and embrace any part of her existence. Eve understood she was extremely lucky to have both her parents together. Not only did they remain together, they still shared love for one another, as strong as the day they first met. A functioning, joyous, solid family unit and a true place to call home. She had friends that weren’t so fortunate. Fate had different plans for their upbringing and most of them grew up in broken homes. They always adapted well; it was a normal way of life for them. They accepted that their parents didn’t like each other, and it didn’t faze them. Of course they would have loved nothing more than to live a life with Mum and Dad, at least that way they wouldn’t have to deal with the messy bits in between, but they couldn’t change things.
Eve would see her friends leave and spend the odd weekend with Dad, while living with Mum. Some, although it was rare, would live the opposite way around, staying with Dad and spending the weekend with Mum.
When her mum died, Eve shut out all her friends. She felt they didn’t appreciate how different her circumstances were to theirs. How could they even begin to compare to what she must deal with? She would often get annoyed and shout to her friends, “It is not the same!”, as they would try and sympathise with her.
Okay, yes, Eve has a broken home – yes, she is no longer part of the two-parent family, but it isn’t through her parents choosing to separate. They didn’t have a huge falling out and the main point of all this is she doesn’t have the opportunity to see both her parents – they do.
Eve, a young girl who once embraced life, felt blessed and was filled with gratitude, quickly slipped. Now she feels cursed and bitter.
Sitting quietly on the bench, Eve inhales the pure air and looks out at the outlines of the cliffs surrounding her. The night is ink
ed in darkness.
Eve places her backpack next to her on the bench and opens it. She takes out her number-one treasured possession: a picture of her and her mum. At least once every two months they would dedicate a day to spend time together, doing anything they both enjoyed. The jam-packed action days would range from paint balling and theme parks to spa days and fashion shows. Eve took this selfie on their last ever mum and daughter day at their favourite spa and restaurant. It was exactly two weeks before her mum died.
Eve’s innocent, vibrant, life-fuelled face smiles out of the photo, her hair bright, long and shiny. In the background, her mum sits up high on a black leather massage bed. Her dark chocolate long hair, which is styled to perfection, is draped over her shoulders and is complemented by the white fluffy robe she’s wearing. And, of course, no spa outfit would be complete without matching slippers. She’s holding a glass of champagne in her left hand.
Eve can’t help but grin at the sight of her mum’s beautiful white beaming smile. It’s so full of life, full of hope and radiating love. But her smile soon fades as an overwhelming surge of sadness takes over at the loss of this beautiful woman, mother and soul.
Also inside the backpack is the bow-tied teddy bear, Gregg, along with Eve’s diary and a blue pen. Holding this tightly in her hand she gazes up at the sky. The stars align and begin to glisten gently in the distance. The universe is such a beautiful place. All Eve sees is freedom. Speaking to the brightest star she can find she says, “Which one are you? Hmm, I know – the one that shines the brightest, that’s you, Mum.”
Looking down at her mum’s beautiful face in the picture she smiles as a tear falls on the glass that protects the image. She’s been to “Lauren’s Garden of Secrets” more times than she can count in the past three years. Feeling cursed and suicidal, sometimes all she wanted to do was run and jump off the edge of the cliff.
Closing her eyes, she begins to visualise her surroundings, but in daylight. In her mind’s eye she’s sitting on the bench with the tatty brown suede backpack on the ground next to her. Suddenly, she stands. Holding the picture tightly in her hand and without a single tear on her face, Eve walks to the edge of the cliff. She curiously leans over the side, looking down. The drop is at least one thousand feet. There are rocks scattered all the way down and a huge pile of them at the bottom.
The Broken Page 4
