"Tangerine Tales"

"Flying High" by Amanda Prowse

“Flying High”

By Amanda Prowse

Lisa sat next to her husband, Jason, who lay snoring on the beach. His hands were knitted across his t-shirt and his tummy rose and fell in slumber. She wriggled in the sand trying get comfortable, pulling her swim skirt down over her legs, which her eight-year-old son had earlier referred to as, ‘like wobbly jelly, Mum, but warm!’ she smiled, as if her body confidence wasn’t low enough, these little pearlers didn’t exactly help. Not that anything was going to dent her smile today. Results day.

Earlier she had hovered outside the downstairs loo, offering silent prayers, and pacing in her slippers, while her daughter Georgia locked the door and ripped open the envelope. Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of her daughter’s wail that floated beneath the gap in the door. It was a full two seconds before the accompanying squeals of joy, confirmed that it was a happy noise. Lisa breathed then, unaware that she’d been holding her breath.  She looked in the mirror on the hall wall and smiled with relief, ignoring the quake of dread in the pit of her stomach. Georgia burst out of the cloakroom,

‘I did it Mum! I did it!’ she jumped up and down in excitement, hugging the results to her chest before throwing her arms around her mum’s neck.

‘You did my darling! I’m so proud of you!’ and she was.

She watched now as a little girl in a dinky, pink swimsuit, and armbands, toddled up the beach with a bucket full of water and a determined, fixed expression as she tried not to spill a drop, before tipping the lot into a vast hole that sucked it up like a sponge. Instantly the little one turned and scampered back to the water’s edge to repeat the process, gripping her bucket tightly in her fist. Lisa smiled; it used to keep Georgia amused for hours, trying desperately to build a pool right there on the beach. That felt like a blink ago. She closed her eyes and pictured Georgia with her long hair, ratty with saltwater, and her chubby feet, covered with sand and the residue of a leaky lolly, running up the shoreline and depositing herself down on Lisa’s lap. She would squeeze the water from her hair and rake it with her fingers before her daughter nuzzled in for a cuddle. She could still smell the intoxicating scent of seawater and sunscreen, recalling the feel of her plump little body, wrapped in a large towel, and falling into a deep slumber as she cradled her in her arms, wrapped in her snug, towelling cocoon. That feeling as her child succumbed and lay, leaden in her arms was the best in the world, those precious moments when her little one slept, confident in the knowledge that her mum would keep her safe.

Without warning, a large sob built in Lisa’s chest. She gulped for air as her tears sprouted. She swiped them with the back of her hand, embarrassed as she fumbled in her oversized bag for a tissue. ‘This is what you have always wanted…’ she whispered, reminding herself that the goal had always been to prepare Georgia for the outside world, give her values, boundaries, and the skills to face the world and then to set her free.

‘Trouble is I don’t know if I’m ready…’ she admitted.

‘Ready for what?’  Jason turned on his towel and lifted his baseball cap, opening one eye as he yawned.

‘For her to go away.’ And her tears came again.

‘What are you talking about, Lis? She’s only off to Uni, not Siberia! Besides, you said you wanted to use her room for storage when she’s gone, shove all your sewing stuff in it. You won’t know you’re born with all that space.’ He winked, reaching out a hand to pat her jelly legs.

She nodded. I only said that because I know I am supposed to. I didn’t mean it. I don’t want space. I want her. I want to see her when she wakes up and I want to know she is sleeping in the room down the hall. I want to wash her clothes and look after her. My daughter. My little girl.

Lisa coughed to compose herself and popped her sunglasses on, masking the evidence of her distress. Her eye was drawn to a silhouetted figure that trod the shoreline, making her way up the subtle incline towards her. It was a woman, a woman in her prime, who’s tanned limbs stretched in the sunshine. Lisa watched as she gathered her thick hair and squeezed the seawater from it, coiling it into a bun, which fell immediately, gathering around her shoulders. She was beautiful, graceful, upright, and confident. She watched, as the figure loomed closer, stepping languidly towards her. Lisa’s mouth fell open when she realised it was Georgia. It was as if in that instance, she realised that her little girl had vaulted the line from child to woman, a woman on the threshold of adventure, of life.

‘She’s so beautiful.’ Lisa spoke slowly.

‘Takes after her mum.’

Lisa had quite forgotten Jason was there.

‘You’ve given her the wings Lis, now she has to use them.’

She smiled at her husband and then her girl as she drew closer.

‘Can you do my hair, Mum?’ Georgia plonked herself down on the sand in front of her mum and tipped her head back. Lisa gathered her daughter’s locks and began to rake them gently with her fingers.

‘I can’t believe I’m going to move away from here, away from you. It’s a bit scary.’ Georgia shrugged, facing out to sea. ‘Are you going to be okay, Mum?’

Lisa swallowed, ‘of course I am you daft thing! It’s the start of your amazing adventure. We’re going to be just fine.’

I am setting you free. Fly high my darling girl safe in the knowledge that I will always be here, a safety net if ever you should need it. Fly high…

For all things Amanda Prowse including more info on her books head to www.amandaprowse.com - thank you! X