Fiona
Will you look at her! Some people, you know, get up early and head off to work like everyone else, and she? What in the world is she doing, trotting about in those white trousers in all this rain?
Oh, she never walks, does she? Always round in that flash car of hers, like she owns the whole street!
Be grateful shes even dressed at all! Did you see what shes got on her neck?
No, I didnt. What is it?
A tattoo! Can you imagine? Who would do such a thing? Looks just like one of those whos been inside, honestly! Shes young and already marked up. What would her mother say if she was here? No guidance at all these days A lost soul, that one
The bench outside the block was humming as everyone watched Fiona stroll away.
And honestly, why not gossip a bit, when your shopping bags are sat by your feet and theres nothing much to rush home for, because, well, its all routine waiting there anyway. At least out here you can catch your breath. Otherwise, its just the usual: grown-up children, young children, cooking, cleaning And the only real happiness comes around on the odd holiday. Where else do you find it, that joy? Doesnt come easy for regular people. Mostly its just worries and wondering how to feed the kids, lend a hand if someones in trouble, bring your grandkids a treat and warm your heart by hugging those little ones. Thats where all the good is the small ones Though not everyones so lucky. Did you hear about Mrs Gregory? Her lot told her not to expect grandkids; apparently, having babies isnt the done thing these days. Now its all about flying off on holidays, Lord forgive, and not a single care in the world. How do they manage it?! Probably just like that Fiona, you know, Natalies daughter.
She used to be a proper girl! School every day, did well, always polite with a hello. Now look at her! Since her mum passed, shes given up keeping herself in check. Out all hours, not working. Not even studying, thats the thing! Ivys daughter said she dived into something dodgytattooing! Opened a studio apparently. Can you believe it?
Few years back, when Fionas dad showed up, everyone thought hed set her straight. Tell her how lifes meant to be. What happened? He bought her that monstrosity of a car that takes up half the parking, then vanished and left her to fend for herself. And she was barely twenty at the time! How could you just leave a girl like that? Who knows what sort of people shell have round now? She could lose her mums flat or that blasted car none of us like.
Oh, look, there she goes! Off somewherewho knows where or why! Didnt even glance back! Real posh, that one. Swanning off in white trousers
Fiona couldnt care less what the neighbours thought or what little stories they spun about her anyway. She had plenty of her own to worry about. Like today: her diary was full to the brim, barely enough hours in the day, wish you could wring a few more out! Her mum always said she never learned to use her time rightbut that she had to.
Fiona, it matters more than you think! Some people are forever rushing about and get nowhere. Always moaning that nothing works out for them. Look at those who manage, and wonder why. Well, its simple: if youre good friends with your time, you get a lot more done, sometimes even everything.
How do you make friends with it, Mum?
Dont waste it. Decide whats important and give it the time it deserves. But dont forget to leave a bit for yourselfrest and fun, too. No one can just work or worry the whole time. Take breaks, mess about a bit! If you take that away, youll end up feeling dreadful. Youre not made of iron! If you push yourself too hard, who benefits? Not you! Youll be spent and grumpy and bitter in no time. Trust me. And dont go to the other extreme either; dont get bogged down in relaxation or youll lose yourself. So sort it out, know how much you need to rest, dont overdo it, and everythingll fit nicely in its place. Ill be able to relax a bit too
Fiona remembered those words, of course, but sticking to them was another matter. She even tried keeping a diary but, well, lifes never that tidy, is it? Today shed three lectures but could only make one, two clients booked with her, and she had to see Kate, and where theres Kate theres always Sarah, and that is never five minutes. Then shed promised to call at Arthurs to help pack, and she had to say hi to the new ones, since theyd be off soon but she didnt even know their names yet. How is anyone expected to manage it all?
The traffic jam inched forward and she pressed gently on the accelerator. The car responded so smoothly, as if to assure her, Dont worry, well make it. Thats why Im here, to save your precious time.
She patted the steering wheel fondly. Thanks, Dad.
A couple of years back, if anyone said shed thank her dad for anything, Fiona would have burst out laughing in their face. Shed resented him for as long as she could remember.
Her mum never said a word against him, just always told Fiona how clever he was and, with a smile, that Fiona took after him.
Fiona could never make sense of how someone so clever could walk out on a newborn and disappear so far away he never once really checked in.
She brooded on that for years, her anger growing at the one meant to love and protect her.
At nursery, shed sit in the corner during the party, furious as the other girls danced with their dads. She had no partner, and it hurt so much she couldnt even cry, just sat with dry eyes and refused to look away.
In school, when kids picked on her, she gritted her teeth and fought back, watching with envy when other girls gloated, Ill tell my dad! Hell sort you out!
And just before finishing school, she fell out terribly with her best mate, Annie, after Annie blithely remarked, Dad says I can go to any uni I wanthell pay, and if I get in myself, hell buy me a car with the money he saves!
Fiona and Annie had been friends since they were three, but right then, Fiona felt the friendship snap.
It wasnt jealousy. It was something elsea deep, gnawing ache, because Annie knew every single thing about Fiona, especially how much she wished she had a dad too. And for some reason, Annie never missed a chance to twist that knife.
But all things considered, Fiona never really envied anyone. Why bother? She and her mum lived just as well as others. Even managed a holiday abroad, and she got a posh new phone from her mum for her sixteenthpretty good going.
But the phone wasnt what mattered most that birthday. She was turning it over in her hands when he appeared at her bedroom doorthe very person shed dreamed of seeing just once.
She caused a right scene shouting and sobbing, paying no attention to her mums calming. She pulled away from her mother and yelled at her, spitting through tears, Traitor! Why is HE here? I dont want to see him!
How was Fiona to know then that her mum already had devastating test results in her bag, that their world would soon be teetering at the top, before crashing down, sweeping away everything theyd relied on Thered be nothing solid leftlike standing in a sticky red puddle, sucking them under no matter how hard they cleaned. It was enough to drag hope itself down, until her mother finally took her hand and made her listen.
This is my fault, Fiona. The split, keeping you from your dad You have to blame me.
Why? Why, Mum? What could make you take my dad from me?
Ill tell you, but you need to listen. Dont interrupt. Its not easy for me to say
And so Fiona found out
How her parents got married far too young, not knowing any better. How her mum carried her, enduring endless complaints from both familiesher own and her husbands.
No one had planned or wanted Fiona; she was just an awkward hitch that ruined everyones plans. Her dad gave up university to provide for them, and her mum never made it back to her own studies after Fiona was born. They both simmered in resentment and disappointment, and when Fiona turned out to be a girl not a boyas expectedher mum left to stay with a kind aunt, and her dad never even knew his daughter had gone for good.
He looked for you. He wrote, called but I told him you werent his.
Good grief, Mum! Why?!
It got said so often, I just let them believe it! If they wanted it that way, fine.
Who wanted it?
Everyone Im sorry, Fiona. I cant do thiswell, not anymore. I know it all sounds so senseless now, but then, I thought I was doing right. I didnt want anyone saying to you what I heard myself. A child shouldnt grow up in hate! I was protecting you or so I thought.
Fiona pulled away, hit the window ledge hard with her fist. Her cactusAnnies giftshook, and she eyed the black bits of earth scattered over the clean sill. Each clump mightve been a word from her mum, spreading mess shed have to wipe away, knowing this kind of dirt didnt come out quickly.
She fetched a cloth and swept it all up. Then she sat by her mothers bed, dry-eyed as always, and said quietly, Tell me everything. Honest this timeno lies.
I wont
Thats how Fiona learned the truth. And though she was left with more questions than answers, she realised lifes funny that way: you think youve got it all sussed, but learn a little more and, suddenly, your carefully polished little world cracks apart and youve got to decide what to do next. No one can do it for you.
She still didnt know if shed really forgiven her mum. Maybe she had. She wasnt sure.
But she was grateful her mother had told her, finally. At least that. And maybe there was even more left unsaid Fiona always felt the most important things were locked behind her mums bedroom door, in those late-night talks with her dad, his hands holding her mums as the painkillers wore off, in the tears he wiped away when he thought Fiona wasnt watching.
She never asked her dad what was said. No pointsome things are better left.
And she didnt have the time. They had to learn to live together, since her dad refused to leave her with an aunt.
Ill go, when you wantbut after you turn at least eighteen. Until then, Ill keep out of your way.
Oh, dont! Youve been out of the picture long enoughbe here, please! I want that Dad
Natalie, Fionas mum, lived nearly two years more, not the months the doctors predicted. It was a rough two years, but, honestly, the happiest toothough Fiona still grieved how little time fate had allowed for the three of them.
It was during those years she started drawing.
Why not sooner? She had no idea. Shed doodled here and there, but never considered taking it seriously.
One day her dad saw her sketches: Hey, thats not bad!
He pulled his T-shirt off and Fiona gaspeda stunning tattoo glowed across his back, making her little pictures look childish.
My mate did it. Want me to ask him to look at your art? He might want to teach you.
Yes! Please!
No one noticed when Fiona left town. She spent nearly a year in London with her dad, learning the business. Then she decided it was time to come home.
I just want to go home, Dad
Strangely, he understood. Didnt argue, just asked her to stay two more weeks, popped off somewhere, came back, helped her pack, and then unloaded boxes in her flat, laying keys on the kitchen counter.
Theyre yours nowthe car and, this He dropped a folder next to the keys.
Whats that? she asked.
Your studio. I sold my flat, bought you a space in the city centre. Its little, but you dont need huge. Les, your mentor, got the kit sorted and itll be delivered soon. Work hard, love. And finish your educationyoull need more than school behind you. You get me?
Fiona could hardly believe it, even once shed opened up shop and had her first customera bearded biker from downstairs, overflowing with praise. Her dad had helped overhaul the place, do the marketing, then packed his things and announced he had to go home, up North, for his parents.
Where are you off to?!
Home, Fiona. They need me there. You know, dont you?
I know Youre here. But, Dad, I She bit her lip. I wish youd stay
I know, sweetheart, but I have to go
With her dad gone, Fiona threw herself into work and study. So many customers she ended up hiring two assistants.
Amid that chaos, she met Kate.
Kate swept in toward evening, while Fiona was starting to fuss that her last appointment was late.
Excuse me could I speak to the artist?
Fiona looked up from her laptop and lecture notes and nodded, Youre speaking to her.
Dont be daft, love. Is there an adult about?
Thats when Fiona looked properly at her. Expensive clothes and a good haircut, but the restno makeup, tired eyes, bitten nails, and a hollow stare
Fiona fetched her portfolio, ignored the knock at the door from her late customer, and shut them out.
Here, these are all mine. If you like, tell me what you want.
A name, here Kate rolled up her sleeve, palm-side up. So I can always see it. Please
Shed reached her limit. So as tears threatened, Fiona quietly locked the door, closed the blinds, and led Kate to the chair.
Itll hurt, you know?
I know. His names Sarah.
Fiona didnt ask more. She found out who Sarah was two days later, bumping into Kate at the county hospital where shed gone to see her aunt.
You?
Me. Thank you.
Dont mention itit does look lovely.
Sarah likes it.
She?
My daughter. Would you like to meet her?
Without hesitation, Fiona noddedhaving no idea how much that meeting would change her life. Id love to!
Little Sarah, with enormous glassesone lens patched upcaptured Fionas heart instantly. She caught Fiona by the hand and pulled her behind, chattering all the way.
Got any nuts? Or seeds? Nothing at all? Howre you supposed to feed the squirrels then?
Squirrels?
Yes, with tails! Theres loads in the park, and my mum says Ive fed them so many nuts theyll bounce off the trees because theyre too fat!
They wont. They jump around so much, theyll never get fat.
Really? Sarah eyed her, then laughed, Youre proper clever!
Not really.
Why not?
Im still learning.
Oh! Right. Oh, hang on, I forgot!
She put her little hand out. Sarah Catherine Bennett.
Beautiful. Fiona shook gently, avoiding the butterfly-shaped plaster. Fiona Rose Woodgate.
Now were friends!
Sarahs laughter rang among the pines, and Fiona saw Kates face brighten for just a moment.
When Fiona came next time, her pockets were stuffed with nuts
Kate didnt share much at first about Sarahs treatment. They walked on eggshells for months, carefully building a trust neither wanted to break.
Theres hope? Fiona asked one day.
Yes. Its not a death sentence anymore. Kate sipped her tea in the café next to the studio. When I came to you that night, theyd told me there wasnt much they could do.
I see
But then a new surgeon arrivedArthur West. He said it wasnt over yet
Then why are you crying, Kate? This is good news, isnt it?
They operated on Sarah yesterday. Shes in intensive carethey kicked me out, told me to come back tomorrow Im so frightened, Fiona. Ive never felt fear like this. And Ive no one to share it with.
Arent you with her dad?
He left before she was born. Im no saint, Fiona. I had Sarah for mejust asked someone I fancied to be the father I didnt love him, and he knew. He left when he found out. Thats why hes not here.
I dont quite get it, but it doesnt matter. Sarahs here now.
Yes, shes here
She is and she will be! Fiona surprised herself by raising her voice. Look at your hand! Did I not choose the right colours so you could always read her name? She gripped Kates wrist. You HAVE to make sure her name is more than a memory, do you hear me?!
Dont shoutIm listening
If youre listening, stop whimpering. Fight, Kate!
Kate wept like a child, and Fiona let her, watching the waiters keep a polite distance.
Just fetch some water, please.
They spent that night talking, crying, laughing together in Fionas studio. In the morning, Fiona drove Kate to see Sarah.
Ill come in too.
Have you got time?
Oh, dont be daft Fiona handed her a hairbrush from her rucksack. Sort yourself out, love, youll scare the kid!
Sarah was fine in the end; Arthurs hands worked a miracle.
When can I see squirrels again? Sarah sulked on the bed.
Soon! When youre discharged, well go to London with Fionathere are so many squirrels in Hyde Park you wont believe it!
Why?
To see the best doctors, petal. Arthurs arranged rehab. Les, Fionas mate, already sorted it.
Whats re-ha Never mind. Ill ask Fiona after!
Whatever it was, it meant fun and getting away from the hospital and its rain-soaked, squirrel-less trees.
Mum!
Yes, love?
Will Arthur come too?
No, hes busy. And, Sarah, what have I said about calling adults by their first names?
I can!
Whys that?
Because he loves my Fiona! Sarah grinned as Kates mouth dropped open.
Oh, you chatterbox! Where dyou get that?
Well, isnt it obvious? Mum, youre so silly! Fiona too! I keep telling her but she wont have it. Sarah shook her head wisely, and Kate marvelled again at how children see everything.
Truth is, Arthurs feelings for Fiona were plain to anyone with eyes. But, for some reason, both of them pretended not to noticeeven to themselves. Theyd meet and nod and discuss the weather, or Sarahs health, and go their separate ways, neither brave enough to make the first move.
After Kate and Sarah left for rehab in London, Fiona realised she could do morenot just for Sarah, but for other kids. Les was fully on board, and soon Arthur was waving goodbye to his little patients one by one as Fiona, with her neat tattoo, bundled them into her carher own mobile home, packed with wipes and cartoons for the journey.
Arthur admired her silently, but kept his feelings quiet. And so did Fiona. Still no first move.
It mightve stayed that way if not for Sarah, back from rehab, who insisted Kate drive her to the hospital.
Why, Sarah?
I want to tell Arthur something.
What?!
Mum! Dont you get it? I want to tell him!
And me?
Later!
Arthur took her request seriously. Alright, fire away.
Kate watched Sarah explain something to Arthur, full of hand gestures, and wondered what could be so urgent.
Why wont you tell her? Sarah demanded.
Tell who what, Sarah?
Fiona. Tell her you like her.
Thats complicated
Is it? Grown-ups are so weird! You know she likes you, too!
Ive noticed.
So why keep quiet?
Well, love, how can I put this I dont have much, just a tiny rented place near the hospital. Meanwhile, Fiona shes sorted. Ive seen her car.
So?
A mans meant to offer his girl something, you see?
But isnt love enough? Sarah stared at him. Isnt it?
Sometimes it isnt, not for grown-ups.
Sarah lost interest then. She tugged Arthurs sleeve so hed lean down, then whispered something that made him burst out laughing.
You little menace!
What else could I do? Mum, lets go!
To where?
To Fionas!
But shes working!
She wont mind seeing me.
Kate only laughed and called a cab.
Sarah had a little chat with Fiona too. The effect didnt take long to show.
That evening, locking up the studio, Fiona was brimming with resolve. If a small girl could see what shed been pretending not to, maybe it was time not to waste another minute.
She almost missed Arthur, standing under a streetlamp. He looked the same as always: tall, a bit awkward, but that Evening, you alright? had music in it shed never heard before.
Fast-forward a few months, and the bench outside Fionas block was buzzing again.
Shes got herself a man! Who is he? Brought his things, but we know nothing! You wait, shell get taken for a right ride!
I think hes alright, myself!
Oh, what would you know, Mrs Gregory? Yours look fine tootill we find out what they get up to! Didnt you say so yourself!
We ought to call her dad. Let him sort it out!
Hes here already!
Youre joking! When?
Saw him the other day. Somethings going to happen, Im telling you!
And whats that, Jan?
Youll see!
And see they did.
Fiona, in a white dress that finally allowed them to spot the tattoo on her back and made Mrs Gregory herself gasp.
Arthur, leading his bride by the arm, making a face behind her back as Sarah giggledshed just sold Fiona to him for a sweet and was chuffed to bits.
Kate, dabbing tears and fidgeting with the veil, waving away every question with, Let me cry! These are happy tears, alright?
And all those odd people who bore flowers and hugged Fiona like she was family.
No one ever quite worked out who they all were. Nor why Fiona, before getting into the car, hiked up her dress, kicked off the ridiculous bridal heels and demanded her Converse, saying You cant drive in those silly things!
Nor why Arthur, grinning, popped her in the front seat and knelt to tie her laceswell done, Kate, for stashing them in the boot.
Nothings ever normal with that one! the bench bench muttered, watching the cars drive off.
Fiona, though!
Exactly! Total Fiona!And so off they went, the parade of laughter and old wounds quietly stitched closed, turning the corner and leaving behind the block, its humming bench, and all the gossip that could never touch what truly mattered.
For Fiona, life at last felt stitched together, a little mismatched in places but thrillingly her own. She drove too fast, with Arthurs hand steady on her knee, and Sarah in the backseat counting clouds out loud, Kates tears glinting with the kind of hope that takes years to come by.
The rain had stopped, or maybe theyd simply outdriven it. Sun broke through, dazzling on puddles and glinting off the gold on Fionas fingerhers and no one elses.
Somewhere a squirrel darted across their path; Sarah let out a squeal and pressed both palms to the glass. Fiona caught Arthurs gaze in the mirror and grinned, reckless and alive. Her story, at last, no longer belonged to the whispered half-truths of the bench, but to hercarved in ink and love, in forgiveness and beginning again.
Onward they drove, trailing laughter and the promise thatwhatever came nexttheyd face it their own way: with wild, stubborn hearts, and just enough time, always, for joy.
