Jigsaw

Finally, she was sixteen, and although labelled “young adults” at school since they were fourteen, Helen now felt she was a proper adult. But even the excitement at turning sixteen and thoughts of the cycle ride adventure ahead did not completely overshadow the excitement they had all felt since New Year’s Eve when 1979 had turned into 1980. A new decade full of promise. They were young, and the world was filled with endless possibilities.

Helen’s brand-new bicycle leaned against the front wall of their quaint country cottage, its metallic-purple paint glinting in the already intense morning sun. She had strapped her contribution to the picnic to the rack at the rear.

Helen knew her mum had struggled to pay for the bicycle (the first brand-knew bike Helen had ever owned). She had always been close to her mum, and since her dad had left over three years ago, their bond had become stronger still. When her mum had surprised her by also giving her a lovely navy blue summer blouse and light-blue jeans, Helen did her best to seem just as excited about these as she had been about the bike.

But it was the bike she was really excited about, having irreparably broken her old one last autumn (and breaking her leg in the process) while trying to carry out one of Wendy’s stupid dares. And now that even Alice had a bike, she definitely had to have one. Now, the whole gang could go exploring further out from the town. The thought of all the adventures they would have this summer filled Helen with excitement.

Hearing bicycles approaching along the lane, Helen turned to see Lucy, Wendy, and Alice astride their cycles, slowing rapidly to a stop. With a broad grin, Wendy deliberately used her rear brakes hard, going into a back-wheel skid, causing a small dust cloud to rise above the short red-brick garden wall.

With wide, happy grins, all three simultaneously called “Happy Birthday!”

Helen grinned back, knowing that the day would get better and better.

Lucy was Helen’s best friend. As she sat astride her bicycle, the summer breeze gently playing with her strawberry-blonde hair, Lucy’s smile was huge and beautiful, her deep brown eyes managing to simultaneously reflect and absorb the sun’s warm rays, her rosy cheeks seeming to have a smile all of their own.

Helen’s fears of not knowing anyone at this end of the country when her mum had moved them here almost three years ago, were soon dispelled upon quickly becoming friends with the lovable and caring Lucy. As letters and telephone calls (Helen had to use the phone box on the corner of their lane) with Jim, her one true love, had diminished over time, and all ideas of visiting each other had dwindled, her friendship with Lucy had become ever deeper through the weeks, the months, the seasons. Jim was now a lovely but distant memory. And Lucy, with her heart of gold, was now as close to Helen as her mum was.

Helen looked to Wendy as she leaned forward with purpose onto her handlebars, grinned mischievously, and called to Helen over the garden wall, “You’re legal, now!”

She saw her mum standing suddenly in the open doorway and felt herself blush. Helen marvelled, as she often did, at how, despite having a daughter of sixteen and despite the harrowing, heartbreaking ordeal she had been through five years ago, her mum was still so pretty and had retained a radiant, youthful glow.

Wendy wore, as usual, her light blue denim jacket and jeans, combined today with a bright white blouse with a frilly V-neck collar. With her sparkling blue eyes, mischievous grin, naughty giggle, hair the same golden colour as Helen’s but shorter and less wavy, and retaining a layer of puppy fat that the others had shed years ago, Wendy had huge sex appeal. She was always getting them chatted up by boys, which, on the whole, Helen didn’t mind. At school, Wendy’s nickname was “Wayward Wendy”. All she thought about was getting off with boys. All she talked about were boys and sex. And she was not averse to the occasional bit of shoplifting. Helen had always thought that if any girl at school were to get pregnant or get in trouble with the police, it would be Wendy. But she was so full of energy and life that the others could not help but like her.

Alice was the quiet one, the studious one, the serious one. Alice, with her thoughtful dark eyes, pale complexion and slender frame, her straight dark hair resting comfortably on her delicate shoulders, was dressed in conservative black trousers and jacket over a thick-looking dark-grey shirt – the wrong clothing for today, thought Helen, especially if it became as hot as they said it would. Alice loved reading short-story books, and Helen did not doubt that she had brought a book with her just in case the other three wanted to do something “childish”. Then, Alice would put on her thick-rimmed glasses, sit alone for a while, and lose herself in other worlds. Helen knew that Alice thought today was all about the picnic, but the others knew it was more about the journey, the exploring, the adventure.

Helen had other friends in the swimming club she had joined two years ago, but these three here, on her birthday, were her closest friends. They were a tight-knit group. They looked out for each other.

Lucy explained that they had bought a present between them and that Lucy’s mum was bringing it over that evening.

Helen thanked her mum again for her presents and kissed her goodbye. And off they went on their first bike ride with all four of them together, the route deliberately not planned; but despite Wendy’s rule of no maps, Helen knew that Alice had concealed one in the bag on her bike rack just in case they became lost.

After just the first few pushdowns on the pedals, Helen was filled with the excitement of adventure, of freedom, and having no parents or teachers to tell them what to do.

She looked around to see her mum smiling and waving, Helen thinking, once more, that, for a mum, she looked very young and very beautiful. Helen waved back, the bike wobbling a bit before she turned around and returned her hand to the handlebar.

Helen pushed down harder (hearing Alice call out, “Not too fast!”), raised her head to the vast azure sky and grinned widely at the wide-open world.

All four exuded bright gaiety on a day full of promise as they rode down beautiful, sun-filled country lanes brimming with wild flowers of saturated colours. Poppies swayed their scarlet and crimson in the gentle summer breeze. Pinkish-purple foxgloves stood stately on the hedgerows, absorbing the sun’s warmth. Daisies shook their white and orange heads. Buttercups shone gorgeous sun-drenched yellow.

Helen breathed deeply the combined fragrance of all the wild flowers pervading the summer air. There was also the smell of earth, dusty in the lanes and richer from fallow fields, and the fragrance of meadowsweet wafting from the verges was intoxicating.

Over their calls and laughter and the sound of their wheels upon tarmac, concrete, and dried earth, birds twittered, whistled, and chirped excitedly, their multifarious song floating over hedgerows, dropping down from woodland trees, hanging determinedly over winding country lanes, almost visible in its immediacy.

They rode past dense green woods and fields of light-yellow wheat, deep-yellow rapeseed, and rich fallow brown while the dazzling blue of the endless summer sky arched over all. Helen felt at one with the wonders of nature and was thrilled to be alive.

They stopped for a while at a bustling country fair, the main attraction being an exhibition of colourful old traction engines. Oily wheels turned fast and slow, pushing these massive beasts along with relentless certainty. Pulleys turned more wheels that operated various old farm machinery. Alice, of course, wanted to know all about how these machines worked and how they were used on farms, while Helen, Lucy, and Wendy were content to simply watch these colourful creations from a bygone age. The slow race between these vintage machines was even more exciting than the fast race. And the rum and raisin ice cream Lucy bought at the farmhouse for all of them was the best Helen had ever tasted.

There were many other events on the programme, and Alice was in her element, her delicate features now subtly animated with her thirst for knowledge, but the others agreed they should be on their way, and so they tore Alice, protesting feebly, away; for who knew what else lay ahead on this endless summer day?

A short time later, they rode beneath an old stone bridge where four boys about their age were sitting on the wall above them in their summer shorts, topless and sunning themselves, their hair shining brightly in the early afternoon sun. The boys wolf-whistled them and ran to the other side of the bridge as they passed beneath, vehemently calling out for them to come back as the bridge fell behind them.

Wendy tried her best to convince the gang to go back and spend time with the boys, saying they could have one each, but the others knew that would be it for the day: pleasurable as it might be (and Helen had been excited by the idea), there would be no more exploring, no picnic with just the four of them to celebrate Helen’s birthday, no chatting and laughing about teachers and other kids at school, no telling their secrets to each other.

They told Wendy they were sorry and rode on. Alice was visibly relieved that they had not backed down to Wendy’s insistence.

It was some time before Wendy stopped badgering them. Then, she was quiet for a while, obviously disappointed. And then, like Wendy, she forgot all about it, all her energy and zest for life returning as though the boys had never entered their day.

Sometime later, when they saw the gentle rise of the hill, the long yellow grass growing tall, backdropped by gorgeous green, and thinking of the views they would have from the top, they immediately knew this was the place for the picnic.

Their picnic was perfect, the packed food and drink delicious, the long yellow grass standing tall all around, the company comfortable and comforting, the laughter sometimes extreme, and the deep blue sky arched, like a protecting umbrella, over their claimed cosy corner of the world.

The picnic was everything Helen had imagined...apart from one thing: for some irrational reason that she could not work out, Helen was nervous about the line of trees just a few yards behind her.

Then, Wendy dared her to walk into the woods to the count of one hundred called aloud by Wendy and Lucy (Alice got out her book and glasses). As with all Wendy’s dares, Helen would not turn it down and look like a coward.

On entering the dark, foreboding woods, her nervousness immediately turned to an unfathomable fear, but, at the same time, she was filled with an irresistible urge to push ever deeper into these frightening but alluring surroundings.

As her surroundings became ever-darker, Helen vaguely sensed that a deeper darkness pervaded these woods...and it had nothing to do with a lack of light.