Times Past

TIMES PAST

What feelings were revived as Ada walked up that drive. So familiar. In the distance she could hear the church bells ringing just as they always had done on a Sunday. For each ring came a thousand echoes. Remembering walking down the aisle: saying “I do”, looking down to see a baby. There was her daughter – Gabby, so small and dependant in her arms. Ada longed to hold her once more. It felt like such a long time since she had seen David, and Gabby – but then hospital does that, it makes even a minute seems like an eternity.

Home. At Last!

Ada found her keys as she reached the front door; the wood had a darker tint than she remembered. What a difference now that the sun wasn’t shining down onto it. Pushing the key into the lock the door sprang open, allowing her to walk straight over the threshold.

‘David has to be more careful, he has to check the door closes behind him. One of these days it won’t be me who catches him out.’

Ada walked into the hall and shut the door tight, moving up the stairs and into the first room that she came to. Why? There was something she had been meaning to do. But what was it, it was something, what! Slowly looking around her she saw pictures, there were pictures hanging from all the walls. Where was she? Moving closer Ada realised that they were photographs. She was surrounded. Many of these pictures had herself or Gabby as their centrepiece. Here, captured on these walls, all her fondest memories, a mosaic of their past.

Turning to her side she could see pictures of both herself and David when they were younger. Here was a timeline of both their lives. For so long their lives had run parallel to one another just as two lines of photographs illustrated, and then they suddenly diverged as their two lives connected.

Looking to the opposite wall one picture caught her attention, it was the professional photograph of her and David on their wedding day. It looked almost as clear as she remembered. Standing in white satin waiting for the photographer to take the perfect picture, waiting so long the rain had begun to fall. She had worn that dress all day even after the rain. It clung so affectionately to her, she would have never taken it off if she hadn’t had to. How fantastic this picture looked on the wall. Further along the wall there was her daughter, her beautiful daughter less than 1 hour old. How small she was yet the camera made her look so much bigger. Gabby had been premature by three weeks. How Ada yearned to hold her tight in her arms once again and say ‘don’t worry my darling, mummy’s home again’. These were the only thoughts that occupied her mind while she was in hospital.

Now she remembered, that was why she was standing here, had come to this room, because it was Gabby’s room; had been Gaby’s room. Now it was empty, with only these photographs on the walls. How much David had changed while she was away?

Rather than stopping after the picture of Gabby in the hospital, the photographs continued to trace a path around the room. Intrigued, Ada glanced at the remaining pictures. Then walked to the door once more and looked at the final photograph in the sequence.

So out of place that picture seemed. There amidst their family archives. Not a single person was recognisable to Ada. There was something distinctly familiar about these people; perhaps they were some unknown relatives? Leaning in closer Ada could see how alike to David’s father this man looked, and this woman similar to her own mother. Yet it couldn’t be, both their parents were now dead and this woman was so much younger than the gentleman standing by her; his hand affectionately on her shoulder.

The front door opened and closed. Now, Ada thought, she would be able to ask David who these people were and why he had changed Gabby’s nursery into this archive. She would have to admit it was a terrific idea – but Gabby’s nursery. How she longed to see Gabby again! Hold her again.

Rather than call, Ada glided as quietly as possible down the stairs. How surprised David would be. Ada could hear the rummaging of supermarket bags and knew he had gone into the kitchen. Still tiptoeing she went to the kitchen door then jumping forwards bellowed: “SURPRISE”

Standing motionless was the woman from the picture, now standing in her kitchen. Despite her presence she was no more real to Ada. This woman was standing rigid with one arm held above her waist in mid action ready to place a full bag of shopping onto the work surface. A crash as the bag fell to the floor. Snapping into movement the woman moved forward. As she drew closer Ada could feel herself moving away, stumbling backwards out of the kitchen as this woman’s arm reached out as though to pull her back.

Who was this woman in her house? Someone was now shouting. It was a voice she recognised but felt she hadn’t heard for a long time. It was herself insisting this intruder leave her house. Still moving backwards Ada could hear herself “GET OUT”. Not leaving this woman stopped still. Ada’s voice was superseded; she could hear the words but not believe them. This woman was calling her ‘mother’. Over and over again she said it ‘mother’, ‘mother’, ‘mother’ and then the final blow. Ada seeing her reflection in the hall mirror, no longer a fresh faced 30 year old but a stranger so many years older at 52. Unable to believe she was looking at herself, her aged self. Still hearing her daughter no longer the new born but already a grown woman call her mother and reach out to her, moving closer until Ada could feel her wrap her arms around her and held her.