‘ FOREVER YOUNG ’
BY
CAROL VARDY

 

When James my husband retired, he didn’t know what to do with himself. The days seemed endless, he knew I was worried about him. It had reached the stage where he kept pacing up and down, glancing every minute at the clock; he couldn’t wait for the soaps to start .He needed a fresh interest, something different to fill his time. Our new neighbour, Mick, chattered to James and invited him round to see his hobby. I persuaded him to go, I was glad to get him out from under my feet. On his return, I wanted to know all about Mick.

“He’s a widower and he’s got a fascinating hobby.” He then muttered to himself, “which reminds me, I’m sure…” His voice trailed off as he wandered over to the bookcase, chose a book and walked away.

“You’re sure, what?” I called after him. No more information was forthcoming. I was lucky to have received that much.

The next day he went shopping. When I asked what he’d bought he mumbled something about the hobby. Then he went into the attic and brought down various sized boxes which were taken to the shed. He seemed so much brighter today and appeared to have extra energy. So much so he began a project in the garden; he won’t tell me what it’s going to be. There’s a lot of digging involved, he’s never cared much for gardening, so perhaps this is a new interest, something different. As the days went by I noticed a spring in his step, I even caught him humming. Every so often he’d give me a peck on the cheek.

James has been dividing his time between digging the garden and visiting Mick. Sometimes not coming home till 6.00 pm for tea, then going back out to the shed. What is he doing? When the grandchildren arrived, they disappeared with their grandad. On their return their faces were flushed with excitement. Timmy was about to tell me something, but his brother Jamie nudged him and said. “Sorry Nan, it’s a secret.”

I received a phone call from my sister, she’d injured her back; she asked if I could go for a few days to help with the children. James assured me he’d be okay, plenty of food in the freezer, lots to keep him occupied.

He still didn’t say what. When I rang to ask how he was coping, he said okay. I could hear talking in the background, it sounded like Mick from next door.

On my return I expected the house to look like a disaster zone, but it was clean and tidy except for a stack of empty, dusty boxes.

He told me not to peep under the canvas in the garden, that all would be revealed when the children arrived.

James explained that Mick had been helping him, he winked and tapped his nose. As I looked through the window, my daughter, grandchildren and Mick were in the garden.

“It’s time to show you my surprise,” said James as he took me by the arm. The canvas was removed, this brought back memories of when the children were small. That’s what he’d found in the attic. I remember now, he’d saved some of the pieces.

“ Mick’s got a fantastic one in his garden,” gushed James.

The surprise was a model railway track, running along the side of the lawn; complete with a steam train, trucks and carriages. A bright red ribbon was fastened across the track, James handed me a pair of scissors, as I cut the ribbon. The children cheered and shouted. “This is the Sally Line,” James produced a whistle, which he blew loudly. Touched a switch and off went the train, chug, chug, chug, the smoke belched from the chimney, as around the newly laid track it went at high speed over the bridge.The children jumped up and down in excitement. James eye’s sparkled with pride. He’d rekindled a past hobby, much to the grandchildren’s delight.

© Carol Vardy 2007

 

 

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