Dear Diary,
Today I visited the flat in Leeds where my son Sam lives, my heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. I could already picture the surprise on my little granddaughter Lilys face when she saw the gift Id brought a precious antique doll, the very one I had rescued for her. Wrapped in a halfmetre box tied with a pink satin ribbon, a fluffy bow dancing on top, it seemed almost ceremonial.
I spared no effort, time, or penny for this present. I organised a small operation of my own: I travelled to Manchester to see Mr. Hargreaves, a specialist in restoring old dolls. I sewed a dainty blue dress and a little bonnet for the doll myself, and added a felt coat, sheepskin boots, a knitted scarf with a matching cap, delicate lace bibs with a tiny shirt, and even a second dress dotted with peas. All of it was handcrafted by my own hands. This is the very doll that, back in the late 1960s, a modest eightyearold me received on my birthday the only beautiful toy I ever owned. The memory of how that doll, Natasha, brought me endless joy still brightens my mind. I felt a duty to give her a second life. Modern dolls feel soulless, often with stiff faces, but this one
Good heavens, my daughterinlaw Emily whispered, halfamazed, where on earth did you dig up such a rarity?
This is my first and only doll, I replied, not noticing the puzzlement in her eyes. I drove up to my sisters village to collect it; it had been left in the old family house. All our children were boys, so there was no one to look after it after me. It lay for years in a box with a broken leg. I wept so much when the leg snapped! Time has changed it, but look now its as good as new, even better. The restorer performed miracles!
Lily bounced forward, eyes wide. Grandma, give it to me, give it to me!
Do you like it? I asked.
Beautiful that little dress I want one just like it! she declared.
Shall I sew you one so youll have matching ones?
Mom, who wears those oldfashioned Sovietstyle outfits now? Sam interjected with a chuckle.
Quiet, love! I want it! Lily cooed, clutching the doll.
The dolls name is Natasha, I said, smiling at the little girl.
Beee, Lily protested, thats a terrible name! Ill call her Chelsea!
Dont, dear! I warned, thats a name for a dog!
Itll be Chelsea, like the cartoon! Lily stamped her foot, smoothing the dolls cheek. Her blue eyes seemed to sparkle anew. Wow! Did you see that?
Emily, unlike Sams sisterinlaw, showed genuine delight: I had almost the same doll when I was a child, only softer, stuffed. Let me hold it a moment.
Reluctantly Lily passed the doll to her other grandmother, Eleanor, and watched them examine it with reverence.
Look at that rosy glow and those clear eyes! Such an open, touching stare! The clothes are stitched so neatly, Eleanor murmured. I had exactly the same blue dress in my youth!
I used Soviet patterns to sew it, I admitted, a blush creeping onto my cheeks.
What? You made the whole outfit yourself? Eleanor gasped. Marvelous work, my dear! I never knew you could sew.
My husband, George, agrees a fine piece of craftsmanship, he added, stroking his grey moustache.
My cheeks flushed a ruby hue as the compliments poured in. Eleanors eyes lit up again, reminiscent of her younger days, and she whispered, Shall we see what the doll can do? Come on, Chelsea
She pressed the dolls belly, and a childlike electronic voice squeaked, Mum!
Sam and I exchanged an amused glance, while a wave of nostalgia made tears well in my eyes. Eleanor let out a soft croak, her smile turning mischievous, as she sang, Tap, tap, tap goes the little one Shes walking! Shes walking!
Mom, I dont think thats all that impressive for todays children, Sam laughed.
Back then Id have given my soul for a doll like that or at least a kilo of boiled swede! Eleanor declared, handing the doll back to Lily. Best present of the day, thank you!
I lingered at the table, glancing at Lily as she peered under the dress searching for a missing button. Dont take the button apart, love. We had to restore that too, I cautioned Emily, it had deteriorated over time.
Emily thought about the old habit of elders pulling out treasures from a chest and fussing over them. Lily, did you hear Grandma? she asked, feigning concern.
Yes, Mum, Lily muttered.
The adults drifted into their own conversations while the first toasts were raised for Lilys birthday. Lily darted between the table and her toys, eyes glued to the television. The doll, now stripped of its clothing, lay on the floor beside a contented cat, who began delicately licking the dolls neatly arranged hair. I sat by the window, oblivious to the scene.
Wheres our older grandson, Andrew? I asked suddenly.
Hes out with his friends, Sam replied. Hes got his own teenage pursuits.
Did you wish the birthday girl? I inquired.
Of course, Sam said, I lifted her by the ears five times one for each year then handed her markers and a colouring book.
Can you really lift a child by the ears? Eleanor exclaimed.
It was a joke, Emily defended, recalling past grievances. When my older sister tugged my braids, you never seemed to mind.
George rolled his eyes, sighed, and placed his hand on Eleanors shoulder. We fought, didnt we? You thought Id never notice. It was all hard work, you know.
Eleanor lamented, We gave you so much, ungrateful one! We paid for your university, supported you until you were twentytwo. Olly got a flat from us, but we never forced anything.
I sensed the tension rising, so I tried to lighten the mood. Did I tell you Ive got a new parrot? I went out onto the balcony this morning and he was perched on the cupboard door, shouting Hello, gorgeous!
Everyone chuckled, except Emily, who seemed still sour. George guessed it might be a neighbours bird.
Someone opened the door earlier, but no one knows who. Our neighbour Mrs. Mason, who lives down the hall, gave me her old cage. I named the bird Peterson. Hes a charming redyellow fellow, though the cage is a bit small for him
Suddenly my face twisted in horror. What on earth are you doing, my little Chelsea? I shouted, startling everyone. Stop it! Put the markers away this instant!
Lily lifted her innocent eyes, clutching the doll in one hand and a red marker in the other, adding a bit more rouge to the dolls cheeks.
Hey! Sam snapped, snatching the marker. Why ruin the doll? Grandma will be upset, and Chelsea will be sad!
Eleanor shook her head, eyes vacant, as if at a funeral. Lily burst into tears, flinging the doll to the floor and running to her mother. Sam lifted the doll, his expression full of regret.
Can we clean it? he asked.
Try washing it in the bath, but dont get the hair wet, Eleanor suggested, laying a comforting hand on Eleanors.
The child is spoiled, doesnt appreciate anything, she whispered to Sam. Dont worry, Margaret. Its just a toy
No, its not just a toy, I murmured softly. Ill step out for a moment and help Sam.
Sam returned first, then I followed, steadied by resolve. I cradled the doll as if it were a living being, smoothing its blue dress, sitting it gently on the sofa, and brushing its hair. The faint streaks of marker remained on its cheeks, but I smoothed them away and smiled at Lily.
Come here, love. I have something to tell you, I said, inviting Lily to sit on my knee while the doll rested beside us.
When I was a little girl, just a bit older than you, we had hardly any toys or new clothes. I borrowed what I could from my older sisters we had three of them. My brother, Colin, worked on the farm before being called up to the army. We were poor; Mother raised us alone after Father died when I was barely a year old. On birthdays we got a bun for sixpence that was the best we could afford. I never resented the scraps; Mother did everything she could. From five I helped her with chores, looking after the geese.
During Colins second year in the army, a shipment of toys arrived at the village shop. Among them was a stunning doll, never sold because it was too pricey. We named her Natasha.
I paused, meeting Lilys wide eyes. Colin came home the day before my eighth birthday, hidden a gift behind his back. He kissed my cheeks and said, Happy birthday, little sister! Heres a present for you. He handed me a wrapped box. Inside was that very doll. I was stunned a dream come true! I sewed her clothes, fed her, taught her to read, even slept with her. One day a boy broke her leg, but I kept her until I was fourteen. She guarded my sleep, sang to me, and we shared countless jokes. When I finally put her away in a box, she stayed forever in my heart.
Lord, Eleanor sighed, tears spilling over Georges shoulder.
The recollection left me drifting far beyond the room, remembering only the doll and Lily. Emilys lips trembled, and she dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.
Now, my dear, this doll is yours restored, refreshed, as good as new. You can do anything with her, I wont mind, I told Lily, handing her the doll.
She clutched it tightly, rocking gently, then pressed the dolls head against my blouse. Grandma, Ill never hurt Natasha again. Shell be my favourite, I promise, she whispered. You called her Chelsea, didnt you?
Yes, I did, I answered.
No, shes Natasha. Natasha Lily cooed, kissing the dolls crown. Youre beautiful, my little bead!
The whole family exchanged smiles.
Lets have another drink, George announced, raising his glass. To Lily and Natasha! To our little beads.
Tonight, I felt the past and present intertwine, the old doll bridging generations, and I am grateful for the chance to give Lily a piece of my childhood, reborn in a new world.
