A Short Walk
Florence had eaten up all her breakfast and Marcie had made her look lovely, washed and dressed for their day out. Marcie and Steve were running around calling to the children to get their coats and shoes on, find their lunchboxes and get the car packed, when Florence decided that the house was really too noisy and she would go for a walk. She opened the back door and slipped unnoticed onto Moorcroft Road via the side gate.
There were children playing on the street as she walked up the hill keeping carefully to the footpath. Although one or two of them stared at her, no one spoke and they didn’t seem to want to play with her. She marched on with a firm step and a determined look on her face.
At the top of the road she had to make a decision. Florence was not good at decisions, but she looked to the right and thought that might be the road they took to go to church, so she went to the left. There were big houses here on one side but none on the other, just a wall and lots of trees. She arrived at a corner that looked familiar. Here she could see an even higher wall across the road, and she remembered that this was where she should cross over. She looked right, then left, then right again, nothing coming, good. Florence stepped off the kerb and crossed safely over. She knew how to do that. She knew she had done everything right as she continued on up Yewtree Road. Marcie had taken them all here many times. Her spindly little legs were feeling just a bit tired now but she knew she was almost there.
The gates of the Park were visible when she heard a familiar noise which made her heart beat faster. The rhythmic clip clop of hooves got louder. She peered around the pillar and saw the two large animals that were snorting and whinnying in excitement as they came toward the gates. There were men in yellow coats sitting up on them. Florence pulled her skinny frame up against the wall next to the pillar on her side of the gate, and stood stock still. She held her breath and closed her eyes tight. Their warm earthy aroma seeped into her nostrils as they passed. In seconds, the clip clop noise became quieter and she looked out past the pillar to see them disappearing up the road. Policemen and horses always made her feel small and quite weak. She turned into the gates and progressed across to where she could hear the loud excited cries of children. As soon as the playground came into view she gave a whoop of joy and began to run towards the colourful collection of adults and children, aiming straight for the climbing frame. Some children moved aside as she began her climb, and she had no difficulty making her way from rung to rung right to the top.
‘I’m the king of the castle,’ she sang out as soon as she was standing on the top platform, legs wide, arms akimbo. She felt lightheaded but free, and she wanted to jump. She did notice that her legs were a little wobbly. A lady with a cross face and a shouty voice came over and pulled two children away from the platform below her.
‘You should be ashamed of yourself,’ she said, ’frightening little children!’ and she stomped away as Florence felt tears start up in her eyes. Just then, another lady with a smiley friendly face stood in front of the frame and said in a kind voice,
‘Would you like to come and sit with me and Rosie over here? She can play with you.’ She held out her hands and helped her down from the frame. Florence went happily with her to the bench where Rosie was sitting with her book. Rosie’s mum made a call on her mobile while Florence and Rosie looked at the pictures. She was having a good time when Marcie arrived looking hot and flustered.
‘Oh thanks, Nancy. I’m so sorry you’ve been bothered. It’s the second time she’s gone walkabout this week. You know what it’s like at half term. We were just getting ready to go to Knowsley for the day when she disappeared.’ She wrapped her arms around Florence’s fragile frame and hugged her. Nancy smiled at them both,
‘At least she didn’t go down to Mather Avenue with all that traffic.’
‘No, that’s what she did last time, Nancy,’ she sighed and took Florence’s hand. ‘What are we going to do with you? We can’t go on like this. We’ll have to think about getting you tagged. Come on Mum, let’s get you home.’
©Sheena Bradley
Florence had eaten up all her breakfast and Marcie had made her look lovely, washed and dressed for their day out. Marcie and Steve were running around calling to the children to get their coats and shoes on, find their lunchboxes and get the car packed, when Florence decided that the house was really too noisy and she would go for a walk. She opened the back door and slipped unnoticed onto Moorcroft Road via the side gate.
There were children playing on the street as she walked up the hill keeping carefully to the footpath. Although one or two of them stared at her, no one spoke and they didn’t seem to want to play with her. She marched on with a firm step and a determined look on her face.
At the top of the road she had to make a decision. Florence was not good at decisions, but she looked to the right and thought that might be the road they took to go to church, so she went to the left. There were big houses here on one side but none on the other, just a wall and lots of trees. She arrived at a corner that looked familiar. Here she could see an even higher wall across the road, and she remembered that this was where she should cross over. She looked right, then left, then right again, nothing coming, good. Florence stepped off the kerb and crossed safely over. She knew how to do that. She knew she had done everything right as she continued on up Yewtree Road. Marcie had taken them all here many times. Her spindly little legs were feeling just a bit tired now but she knew she was almost there.
The gates of the Park were visible when she heard a familiar noise which made her heart beat faster. The rhythmic clip clop of hooves got louder. She peered around the pillar and saw the two large animals that were snorting and whinnying in excitement as they came toward the gates. There were men in yellow coats sitting up on them. Florence pulled her skinny frame up against the wall next to the pillar on her side of the gate, and stood stock still. She held her breath and closed her eyes tight. Their warm earthy aroma seeped into her nostrils as they passed. In seconds, the clip clop noise became quieter and she looked out past the pillar to see them disappearing up the road. Policemen and horses always made her feel small and quite weak. She turned into the gates and progressed across to where she could hear the loud excited cries of children. As soon as the playground came into view she gave a whoop of joy and began to run towards the colourful collection of adults and children, aiming straight for the climbing frame. Some children moved aside as she began her climb, and she had no difficulty making her way from rung to rung right to the top.
‘I’m the king of the castle,’ she sang out as soon as she was standing on the top platform, legs wide, arms akimbo. She felt lightheaded but free, and she wanted to jump. She did notice that her legs were a little wobbly. A lady with a cross face and a shouty voice came over and pulled two children away from the platform below her.
‘You should be ashamed of yourself,’ she said, ’frightening little children!’ and she stomped away as Florence felt tears start up in her eyes. Just then, another lady with a smiley friendly face stood in front of the frame and said in a kind voice,
‘Would you like to come and sit with me and Rosie over here? She can play with you.’ She held out her hands and helped her down from the frame. Florence went happily with her to the bench where Rosie was sitting with her book. Rosie’s mum made a call on her mobile while Florence and Rosie looked at the pictures. She was having a good time when Marcie arrived looking hot and flustered.
‘Oh thanks, Nancy. I’m so sorry you’ve been bothered. It’s the second time she’s gone walkabout this week. You know what it’s like at half term. We were just getting ready to go to Knowsley for the day when she disappeared.’ She wrapped her arms around Florence’s fragile frame and hugged her. Nancy smiled at them both,
‘At least she didn’t go down to Mather Avenue with all that traffic.’
‘No, that’s what she did last time, Nancy,’ she sighed and took Florence’s hand. ‘What are we going to do with you? We can’t go on like this. We’ll have to think about getting you tagged. Come on Mum, let’s get you home.’
©Sheena Bradley
