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The Generation Gap
Fred knew she was the girl for him, from the first moment he saw her
across the playground. Her blonde hair
and cheeky smile made her stand out from all her friends gathered round playing
hopscotch.
Hetty knew he was the boy for her, from the first moment he caught her
eye in the classroom. She could only see
his face in profile but she could tell the kindness in the turn up of his
mouth.
‘Gran, Gran.’ She heard Paula calling her name as she let
herself in to the bungalow. Hetty
bustled in to the small kitchen and put the kettle on. Paula placed the shopping on the counter and
started putting the food away.
‘Are you going out with Mike for
Valentine’s night?’ Hetty smiled at her granddaughter.
‘No, it’s so expensive,
Gran. We haven’t got £50+ to spend out
on an evening meal, pay for a babysitter plus drinks and a taxi so that we
could both enjoy the evening. I've bought
a couple of nice rump steaks from the butchers and a posh cheesecake from the
delicatessen in the High Street and splashed out on a good bottle of wine. We’ll get the kids off to bed at a reasonable
time, put some soft music on, light a few candles and enjoy each other’s
company.’
Hetty’s eyes misted over. The date was February 14th many,
many years ago and somehow Fred had managed to find a bunch of flowers. He presented them to Hetty from behind his
back as they sat there gazing adoringly in to each other’s eyes, the spray of
tulips lying across their laps. Oh that long ago day at the railway station, suitcases
under their arms, waiting for the start of their long journey; saying a tearful
goodbye to their parents not knowing when they would see them again.
Many years later Hetty found out Fred had pinched the flowers from a
florist’s stall. Fleeing their home country before the tyranny became worse was
their priority that day, their parents had managed to get them safe passage promising
them they would follow on behind as soon as they possibly could, unfortunately
that was not to be. Fred had a sneaky
romantic streak in him even at that young age.
‘Did you and Granddad celebrate
Valentine’s Day?’ Paula sat down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and one
of her Gran’s famous home baked shortbread biscuits. Dunking her biscuit she waited for Hetty to
answer.
‘Oh we had some good times. Fred wasn’t one for the grand gestures, as
you know.’ Hetty and Paula shared a smile; they knew Fred was a taciturn
man. ‘All the things that keep a romance
alive he often did without an audience.
I keep all those special moments here, in my heart.’ Hetty placed her hand over her heart and took
out the gold locket she always wore round her neck usually hidden under her
clothing.
Paula loved these moments when
Hetty talked about her granddad. It had only been a couple of years since he
had passed away and she knew her Gran missed him dreadfully.
‘He did buy you flowers though,
didn't he, sometimes?’ Paula was certain
she remembered vases of flowers on the dining room table.
‘Oh yes.’ Hetty laughed, ‘he would suggest some flowers
and then point out a few bunches in the supermarket, so I would choose a bunch
and he would add a couple more to them because one bunch was never enough he
said.’
‘That sounds like Granddad.’
Paula smiled at the memory of the lovely man they missed each and every day.
Hetty pushed the plate of
biscuits towards Paula and offered another cup of tea.
‘I'm not sure Mike even knows what
romance is,’ Paula smiled wistfully at her Gran. ‘Maybe I don't either.’
Hetty smiled, her eyes
remembering instances of loving gestures.
She would try and describe some of them to the beautiful young lady
sitting opposite her.
‘Well there are the usual things
that people don’t even recognise as “romantic gestures.” Opening stubborn jar lids for me, getting up
first to turn the heating on, making the tea so that it is brewed by the time I
emerged in the morning.’
Hetty placed her hand on her
heart, ‘oh and the slightly more dramatic gestures; running in to the room
following my shriek because I’d seen a spider.
Rushing to the First Aid box to get a plaster when I cut my finger on
the knives he’d recently sharpened.’
Paula and Hetty shared a chuckle;
she could imagine these two people working in unison in the household.
‘Then there were times he would
get up from his armchair and as he passed me, pick up my hand and kiss it. Now that is a romantic gesture that I will
treasure forever and ever.
I might say, out of the blue, “I
love you” and he would reply “so you should” which would make us both burst out
laughing.’
‘Mike doesn’t even say he loves
me any more.’ Paula’s face crumpled in disappointment. ‘I'm just hoping this
meal at the weekend will reignite those feelings.’
‘I'm sure it will once he
realises how much effort you've put in to the meal.’ Hetty smiled at her
granddaughter.
‘Anyway enough of my troubles,
tell me more about Granddad, please Gran.’
‘Oh yes, well there was the CD in
the car that he made with “our song” on it and if he was picking me up from somewhere
he would have it ready to play as we drove away.’
‘Now that is romantic, Gran.’
Hetty smiled remembering their
song. ‘Yes, it was. Holding hands in the
car, oh yes even at our advanced ages we still did that.’
Paula’s raised eyebrows said it
all, ‘old people still held hands?’
Hetty playfully swatted at Paula.
‘Go on home now, my dear, and show that man how much you truly love
him.’
Word count: 996
