Persephone

I remember getting on that flight, my anxiety at an all-time high. I can’t really remember a time when I haven’t felt anxious about something, but getting a flight alone really triggered it. A flight to the other side of the world. The unknown scared me, but the excitement of leaving England’s grey skies behind fuelled me.

Now, as I sit on my porch looking out at the Canadian countryside in High River, I have never been more grateful I took that leap. Canada has been the breath of fresh air I deeply needed. In England, I felt like the personification of my namesake, Persephone, Queen of the Underworld. So far, Canada has plucked all the dark threads from my brain. I feel like a new person, and I have only been here a week.

My long-term Airbnb has a breath-taking view of the river, with the snow-capped mountains framing the backdrop. I arrived in January, well-prepared for a new beginning. As I grasp my warm cup of hot chocolate, never one for coffee or tea, the nerves begin to creep up on me. I’ve had a week to settle and explore High River. Still, today I start my new job as a special needs teaching assistant at the local elementary school. I let the sound of water trickling down the river calm my nerves. I have a new start here. No one knows me, no one thinks I’m the odd, quiet person, and I have a chance. I’ve left behind old habits, familiar faces that only remind me of past traumas, and a family that only persists in making me feel the size of an ant. No one holds that power over me here, and I fell in love with Canada the first time I saw ‘Heartland’ on my TV screen.

My phone buzzes; England is 7 hours ahead of High River. I quickly calculate it must be about 2pm there. The name flashes on the screen, Jess. My one and only true friend. I laugh as she fills me in on the horrors of working at Tesco’s that morning, sick of her retail job in the quintessentially British supermarket. I quickly snap a photo of the fairytale landscape that surrounds me and send it to her. A far cry from our compulsively grey university town. She wishes me luck at my new job, joking that we must switch lives asap.

It’s hard to pull myself away from the view in front of me and to my bathroom, ready to erase the eye bags and imperfections from my face. It takes me a long time to get ready, conscious of wanting to make the best first impression. This feels like my last chance to make a life for myself. If I can’t do it here, in the country of my dreams, where can I do it? I glance at my reflection, happy with the adequately applied makeup and cosy but professional outfit. The cold is a shock to me, so I have to wear multiple layers. My strawberry blonde hair is frizzy as usual, the long waves falling to my waist. No matter what I do, the frizz stays, but I’ve grown to love it. Years of being made to have it short have also infused a love in me for it being as long as possible.

As happy as I can possibly be with my appearance, I set about defrosting my hired Jeep. Whilst the snow has somewhat cleared, the frost remains, clinging stubbornly to my windscreen. I haven’t driven a lot, so the concept of driving on the wrong side of the road worries me. Luckily, it’s only a five-minute drive. I could walk, but I didn’t feel like skidding down the path on the frost on my first day. I’m about as graceful as Bambi on ice.

I make it, slowly, and pull into the car park. Or parking lot? I’m not sure what Canadians call it. Staff are already piling into the small building. One thing that struck me as I walked in was all the happy, smiling faces. At my last school, back home, everyone would be simply miserable on the first day back after half term. Here, people seemed to still have that Christmas glow.

“Miss Wilde?” My 1:1 pulls at the hem of my dress, splattering it with pink paint. I chuckle, getting down to her level.

“Yes, Serena?” She looks up at me with wide blue eyes, concern etched across her face.

“I lost Eeyore.” She pouts, looking around in confusion. Serena has autism, and Eeyore is a comfort to her, the little squishmallow. My heart warms, memories flitting back to my old Eeyore, who also brought me immense comfort.

“Hey, it’s okay, shall we go take a look for him?” Serena grabs my hand, sharing the pink paint with my palm. The school playground is busy, and pick-up time is in full swing. I let the class teacher, Samantha Wood, know where we are going before scouring the classroom. I would have been beyond devastated if I lost my Eeyore at such a young age.

“Oh!” I exclaim, pointing to the book corner, “Look!” Eeyore is sitting on a beanbag, leaning lopsided against a children’s book, Matilda. Serena runs over to him, squealing in delight and locking him in a tight hug.

“Thank you so much, Miss Wilde!” Serena buries her face into my shoulder, tears shimmering in the corners of her eyes.

“Oh, Serena, what are you doing?” A deep but soothing voice sounds from behind me. I turn around to lock eyes with a tall man. A cowboy? The tanned arms and built figure suggest he spends a lot of time outside, with a cowboy hat perched atop a handsome but kind face.

“Daddy! I nearly lost Eeyore!” Serena launches herself into the man’s arms, snuggling into his neck. With Serena in one hand, he extends the other.

“I’m Serena’s father, Alex.” I grasp the calloused hand, my eyes still locked with his caramel brown ones. His eyes crease slightly in the corners; he must live a life full of laughter. My eyes move up to the cowboy hat sitting atop his head.

“I’m a cattle rancher,” he explains.

“Oh, I’m a teaching assistant.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could claw them back. Why else would I be in a school?

“I can see that,” he laughs. “Thank you for helping Serena find her Eeyore.”

“It was no problem...” I falter, not knowing the man’s name. His eyes sparkle with amusement, with a hint of something else? I blush a bit, half at the embarrassment and half at struggling to find words around my 1:1’s father, a man whose face I cannot stop looking at. The defined features, scruffy stubble, and kind eyes stir something within me.

“I’m Alex,” he helps me out.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Alex. It’s a pleasure to be working with your daughter.” I find the strength to remain professional, straightening my posture. “I’m Miss Wilde.”

At that point, Samantha enters the room, taking over from me and speaking to Alex about Serena’s day, explaining that I’m her new 1:1. As he leaves, Samantha turns to me, chuckling.

“What was that about?” She asks with an amused expression. I simply throw my hands up in the air, still embarrassed. “Don’t worry,” she whispers to me, “Everyone struggles in his presence, he’s a hunk,” she finishes with a wink.

We spend a while tidying up from the day and relaxing, working in an elementary school can be exhausting.

“Hey, Samantha?”

“Call me Sam,” she interrupts. “What’s up?”

“Was I actually helpful today?” My self-doubts rear their ugly head, and I need validation. I hate that part of myself.

“You were simply excellent, the kids all love you, and especially Serena.” She ties her dark hair up into a ponytail as she continues, warmth filling her expression. She clasps my hands in hers. “Working with children with additional needs isn’t always easy, but you are the perfect calming influence on her. Don’t you worry.”

“Ok.” I exhale, nerves still simmering in my system, but feeling immensely proud of myself.

“Hey, shall we grab drinks on Friday after work?” She suggested, trying to frame it as a chill event, but the look on her face tells me it will be anything but.

“Count me in.”