Lives less Ordinary

How my mum felt-her own story.

  Pamela Field felt little emotion as she stood at the bus stop on that cold,dismal February morning. Appearances could be misleading. to look at her no one would think that, twenty minutes earlier, she had been standing in the chapel of rest, looking down at the dead face of her husband,Bill. The years had drained all feeling out of her empty heart until she sometimes thought of herself as an automaton blind creature. And yet she knew that, deep within her, like the seed waaiting in the ground for spring to arrive, there lay passions which had been buried for such a long time that she sometimes dreaded that they would wither and die. But she knew that the feelings were still there, waiting to be tapped. And now her years of bondage were over and she felt nothing, neither sorrow or joy but she did feel an immense sense of releif,but that was all. As she stood beside her jailer, still not seeing of course, she tried to imagine the face that went with this character, as if she were a stranger seeing his body there for the first time. She tried to find kindness in the marble features and yet she could not. There was malice there cruelty and contempt; of humour there was none. She could hardly beleive that for almost twenty years she had been this man's slave  Now, as she stood waiting at the familiar bus stop she tapping  her feet yo keep them warm, she tried to look suitably grief stricken and cast her artificial eyes low so as to avoid the imagined stares. She wished the bus would hurry up so that she could get away from her beloved village; if only for a few hours. In Easthampton nobody would know that only twenty four hours agon her husband had collapsed and died. Neither would anyone know that at last her cage had opended and she had been set free and soar up into the blue sky.

  Then, at last she heard the heavy sound of the bus engine. As she sat the noise of the engine lulled into a kind of stupor, but her spirits rose as they sped away from the village and she was near to the anonyminity she craved. Why had she married Bill. She had asked herself that question for the thousandth millionth time. Was it because of the terrible isolation and loneliness that she had felt after James had died. She supposed it was. She had been blisfully happy with James as they began to rear their sighted children. They had both managed in spite of their being blind. Even now, twenty five years after James death, she still felt great longings for him. she would lie in her bed and  imagine how wonderful  it felt with his arms around her-holding her tight. She even longed for his kisses still.....and then...