Kia ora GirlChapter 7 A girl like That
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I woke up to mums singing, mum would always sing while she prepared breakfast. Reaching to get my mobile to check the time, it was 7:00 am it was time to get up. How much I wanted to put my trainers on to go for a run, but today we had a full agenda planned. Alternatively, I did ten minutes of stretching, then my regular schedule of pull-ups and push-ups. Had a quick shower, then made my way downstairs to the kitchen.
Mum was pouring a cup of tea when I walked in. “Good Morning mum.”
Mum looked up. “Good Morning. Did you sleep well? Come sit down have some breakfast. Then we have to go to see Father Petrou before we go to Mrs Taylor.”
“Jesus Christ mum do we need to go to church this early?”
“Don’t you speak like that about the Lord. Father Petrou last night said he wants to see you.”
I sat down to have breakfast. Mum just sat there with her cup of tea. “Have something to eat mum.”
“Don’t worry about me son. I had breakfast with your father before he left for work.”
Quickly finishing my food, then helping mum clean up the table before we left.
We entered St. Mary’s church, both of us lighted a candle, made the sign of a cross then kissed the icons. Mum went and sat down on one of the stalls then put her head down to pray.
That is when I felt a hand on my shoulder. The voice was familiar. “Your mother would come every day when you was gone, she would sit in that same spot to pray for your safe return.” It was Father Petrou.
Turning towards him, we both opened our arms to embrace each other. We stayed like that for a while like two friends who had not seen each other for years.
Father Petrou was about five years older than me. He was different from other priests. When you had a conversation with him about religion, he would never force you to go to church or pray, but still, you felt closer to God.
On releasing him, I said. “It’s good to see you, Father Petrou. My mother told me you wanted to see me about something.”
“Let us walk George.” We walked out of the church, making our way to St. Barnabas Church which was a small walk away. “Your mother has told me about the discovery of your child, that it may still be alive.”
I replied. “Today we will visit my mother-in-law to see how we can find the child.” We reached St. Barnabas church, that is when I remembered, next to the church was a small hall, they used it for small parties. “Father Petrou, do you use the building next to the church for anything?”
“we haven’t used it for many years, I wanted to do something with that space for the community, but the church does not have the funds. There is so much I want to do to help.” He said those last words while his eyes became moist.
“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” I said as we started making our way back to St. Mary’s. Mum was waiting for us at the entrance of the church, talking to some ladies she knew from church. When we got near, mum introduced me to her friends, they all welcomed me back, telling me how much my family missed me.
One of the other priests called Father Petrou. He left in a hurry leaving us to conversed a little with the ladies. They were telling me how much the neighbourhood had changed in the last few years. How much Father Petrou wanted to help the youngsters in the area, but the church would always turn him down when he asked for help.
Father Petrou appeared, coming towards us with a worried look on his face, excusing myself, I walked to towards him, on reaching him I said. “Is everything ok.”
“There is a youngster that comes from a broken family he was found sleeping inside the church this morning. He broke one of the side windows to get inside, so he can just get a little sleep.”
Mum came next to me took my arm, looking at her then at Father Petrou. I thought. “I have never done anything to help the community, maybe this is my chance.” looking at my mum again, she knew what was in my mind, she nodded her head up and down. “Father Petrou I have a proposition to make, meet me here tomorrow so we can talk.” He looked at me with hope in his eyes. We said our goodbyes then he left so that he can attend to his duties.
The drive to my mother-in-law’s house took longer, as we got caught in the morning traffic. Watching mum from the side of my eye, she was just glaring out of the car window. “Nearly their mum.” The next turning would bring us to Broad Walk, Winchmore Hills most prestigious road. Turning into the carousel drive, parking the car to the side of the house. A habit I acquired from my father-in-law, he once said. “Can you park your car on the flank of the house and not in the driveway.” Looking at my car with disgust.
As we got out of the car, mum looked down at the block paving just staring at it. I remember when the Taylors had it done, it cost them over twenty thousand pounds, now hundreds of weeds sprouting through the gaps of the blocks. The building itself an old Tudor style house was in need of restoration. “I think after Sarah passed away, life had stopped for the Taylors” mum said. We approached the front door avoiding the front door hedge box plants on either side. Once nicely trimmed square, now uneven full of spider webs.
Mum rang the doorbell, we heard a female voice inside shout. “Let me find the key!” A few moments later the door opened with a deafening scraping sound. As Jacky appeared, she said. “Hello George, Hello Helen, please come in. Sorry about that, I haven’t used this door for a long time, I’m always using the kitchen door that leads outside.”
“Hello, Jacky,” Mum said as she entered the house first, walking in looking around her at the once beautiful reception hallway, seemed it was uninhabited now. There were boxes piled on top of each other, labelled with the contents that were probably inside. “Hello, Jacky.” Leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek.
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