London, Chelsea, England.
Monday 6th April 2017
Rain. It’s what I remember the night before.
Slamming hard and fast against the streets we lived on. Hammering against the tops of the windows, bouncing of the bonnets of cars. Puddles formed in the garden.
″Heavy winds here this evening in London, we highly recommend that you do stay indoors avoiding all transport especially driving. News has come in from the Met Office issuing a yellow warning. It seems to be rapidly coming in from the south mostly this evening please avoid driving’.
The news-reporter informs us on the television screen. I admired her perfectly done makeup and hair.
I watched the weather girl in her pretty blue work attire, she glides her perfectly toned arms signaling around the map. A giant smile spreads across her bonny sweet face as she looks on into the camera.No one is that happy right?, suppose you may be if you looked that that. That’s what I was thinking at that very moment.
I hear the wind howling outside, as I sit in my comfortable joggers and a soft cotton jumper. I nuzzle into the cushion beside me and anxiously wait for the better half of me to return. The lights begin to flicker in my place of safety and then another howl strikes around.
Seven pm, I thought to myself, he should of been home now. Confused, I look at my phone.
0 MISSED CALLS
Simon: Hey babe just getting on board now, I love you, I should touch down to London for six. I’ve missed you. I can’t wait to get home it is so dammed Hot lol. I hear there’s a storm heading in I hope I miss it, see you soon.
Simon was stationed in Cyprus he had just finished a six-month tour in Afghanistan. His coffee coloured brown eyes flash through my thoughts and his charming smile.
‘Oh, how I’ve missed you too’ I mutter.
I sigh, throwing my phone down beside me. I lay my head on the sofa and watch the candles burn, the tv was on low as the weather report goes finishes a film rolls on the screen. My slowly start to close. The wind and rain seemed to become a distant noise in the background as i fell into a deep needed sleep.
Tuesday 7th April
London, Chelsea England.
Knock. Knock...Knock knock...Knock knock
I awake fast Ii am half on the sofa and half of me isn’t, I must have slept all night, but I have been woken up by the sound of a hard thump on the door.
Someone eager I think to myself suddenly alert. I jump up.
‘Argh’ I squeal, I stand on a piece of Lego. Worst. pain. ever.
I hobble over to the door.
‘Im coming, Im coming’ I shout, hoping they stop being so loud.
As I unlock the door and turn the key, quickly adjust my hair and wipe my face.
There stood before me two soldiers with unreadable expressions. Sadness written in their eyes.
Holding their caps in their arms,well presented in full uniform. One-man, shaven head and deep ocean eyes took an inhale of air before he speaks.
‘Miss Walker,’ he says, quietly but sharply.
’ye- I gulp, ‘Yes’ I repeat.
‘May we come inside’. I jolted, my legs began to wobble causing me to stumble against my door, clawing my nails on the side fo a grip on to something, anything.
I felt the blood drain from my face, my chest becomes so fucking heavy like a ball had just been hit straight in my chest.
I was lost for words but I opened the door slightly more intending to let them in but I cannot say anything my legs dont move. Rushing thoughts try to form a sentence but nothing comes out. I silently scream in my head wanting to so fiercely slam the dam door , just hide from what was about to be told. Childlike, to slam the door shut to not hear the truth.
I turn and I see the sleepy eyes of a small child in his little red checked collar PJs, holding ever so tightly a brown teddy.
Our 3-year-old son.
Kyson cannot talk yet, but his brown eyes hide behind his dark lashes, hair messy falling into his eyebrows. Kyson didn’t need to be able to talk for me to know what he was thinking in his little mind.
He knew. I knew.