The Clock Ticks On
By: Paul Hickman
Tags: Denial, Clinging To Your Past, Acceptance, Ritual, Moving On

ALL Pictures are Courtesy of BING — ALL PTH edit

Mary made a pot of tea. Set out two mugs and added milk and sugar to both of them. “ah, we are so alike.” she thought as she took the tea to the sitting room of the two-bed flat on the 1st floor of a delightful old Georgian house — circa 1797. Poor mad King George.

Mary put the mugs on a big square table between the two windows that looked out onto the in and out driveway at the front. “Horses would come in on the left, drop people at the grand entrance and go out of the right. Perfect.” going back to the kitchen, she put a slab of his favourite ginger cake on a plate and applied a lavish amount of creamy butter. “just the way you like it.” On the other plate went a large locally made Bakewell Tart. “oh, I do so love this. It’s so not what the supermarkets sell.”

ALL Pictures are Courtesy of BING — ALL PTH edit

Taking the plates, she returned to the living room and placed the dishes on the left of the mugs. “oh, it’s that time!” and the Radio ON switch made a loud click. “dah de dah de dah de dah, dah de dah de dah dah!” They always did this to the theme tune of The Archers. Like they always sat in silence, drinking their tea and eating cake while Ambridge’s latest happenings unfolded. It was like time stood still then. She was lost in another world, locked in the magic of a moment that just rolled on for thirty minutes.

ALL Pictures are Courtesy of BING — ALL PTH edit

They never dah de dah’d the end music. They didn’t want the magic to stop, you see — such bliss to be in that moment again. Nothing had changed. Nothing. The Radio ON switch clicked off. The crocks went back to the kitchen.

The following day

Mary made a pot of tea. Set out two mugs and added milk and sugar to both of them. “ah, we are so alike.” she thought as she took the tea to the sitting room. Mary put the mugs on a big square table on the right-hand driveway. Going back to the kitchen, she put a slab of his favourite ginger cake on a plate and applied a lavish amount of creamy butter. “just the way you like it.” On the other plate went a large locally made Bakewell Tart. “oh, I do so love this. It’s so not what the supermarkets sell.” Taking the plates, she returned to the living room and placed the dishes on the left of the mugs. The Radio ON switch made a loud click. “dah de dah de dah de dah, dah de dah de dah dah!”

They sat in silence, drinking their tea and eating cake while Ambridge’s latest happenings unfolded. It was like time stood still then. She was lost in another world. Nothing had changed. Nothing.

As the closing tune began. There was a bang on the main door downstairs. The radio ON switch clicked off. “it’s him!” she shouted excitedly, rushed to the stairs. Reached out to grab the bannister rail, and quickly, she went to descend. She tripped. Lost hold of the hand-rail and in perfect slow-motion went head over heels, over heels, over heels to the bottom of the staircase. “How strange,” she thought “I am looking down a tunnel which is ever getting longer and longer, and the light at the end is getting smaller as it drifts further and further away. She heard very plainly a voice “it’s me, mum! YES! she has fallen down the stairs, I heard her fall, no she lives alone, no I haven’t got a key, please hurry. 29 Acacia Road, Yes where Eric lives!”

In the moment came a realisation. She was home. After all these years, she felt present. The tiled floor was getting very cold. Her son Arthur was the image of his father. Such a good boy. And then there was a crash as something smashed the front door open. A switch went click, and the sounds in her head went off.

Mary woke in the crisp sheets of a hospital bed. Sitting next was her son. “Oh, my, mother, you had me worried for a moment there.” Doctor says that your bruises will heal, you can have the plaster off in 6 weeks, and you will be as nuts as ever!”

“I have been silly, haven’t I? I should have listened to your idea of moving in with you and Joan and the boys. I didn’t want to leave your dad, see. He so loved that house. Even when we had to split it up into four flats to make ends meet, he loved it. His grandad built it with his great grandad. Bit of greatness in the family history. What a good job you decided to visit me that day. Why did you?”

“oh, I don’t really know. Just a feeling. I knew it was about the right time. You see. That’s all. I don’t really know.” Brian looked at his mum. Battered and bruised head to foot. Leg in plaster and thought, “God, you are a lovely woman, my dad was fortunate when he wed you.” Next he thought of Joan. he was very lucky, like his father as well. Thought of William and Harry. William was the spit of him (and Arthur). Harry was…. “oh well, mum, I better leave you in peace. Get some rest. Doc says you can come home the day after tomorrow. I have had the flat cleared. We best sell the big house. I had our granny flat cleaned and aired. Life will be fun. Be nice to have you at our home. Christmas isn’t far off. Be just like old times. Bye, mum!”

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Mary knew her life had changed entirely. No more Archers. (mind you the bottled stuff was very nice.) She had her family about her now. They were important. She could help them now. She could make a difference in all their lives. She decided to pray, “Thank you, great and wonderful Holy Spirit, for showing me what really, really, matters. I will live in the now, remember the past in extreme gratitude, and look a day forward to how I can matter to those I love.” For a long time, she had not been at peace with the world. Now she was. A nurse came in with a cup of tea and a supermarket Bakewell Tart. “oh, lovely nurse, my favourite!” “Blame Brian, he told me this was what you loved.” “oh, he is a good boy, just like his father, only much better, I can spoil him!” The two of them laughed. The nurse put The Archers on. Mary just drank tea and ate cake and daydreamed about new wallpaper and carpets in her new room. She was going to be spending her time with all of them laughing. Christmas! How wonderful… She wondered what the Ambrose folk would be doing at Christmas. They would miss her and Arthur, that was for sure.