Moonlight Magic

It’s early Friday morning and Sarah is making her way across town to the churchyard at Bishophill. She’s already informed the office that she is doing field work today and not to expect her in. She feels a little guilty because it’s a bit of a lie…but only a small one. Small lies, or little white lies, are allowed aren’t they? She kept repeating that sentence in her head as she sat in the slow moving traffic which had come to be the norm at rush hour...which now seemed to start around 7am and extend to 9.30am...why? Who knows? She had set off from her home about twenty minutes ago but forgot that travelling at this hour could mean a thirty to forty minute journey for a three and half mile journey…ridiculous.

Finally, after thirty minutes she turned into Cromwell road and drove the couple of hundred yards to where the churchyard was. This time she was able to park her little car directly by the entrance. It was a sunny, crisp and chilly morning so she made sure she put on her gloves before getting out of the car. Once out and standing on the street, she wound a white large-knit scarf round her neck twice in an attempt to keep out the cold. She could see her misty breath seeping out from under her scarf as she stood looking around to see if anyone was out and about. The time was now almost quarter to eight and there were people up and down the street coming out of there terraced houses, either on their way to work or scrapping the ice from the windscreens of their cars. Some people even started the engines of their cars and then went back inside, hoping no-one would steal their car while it sat on the road warming up.

Sarah had come back to the churchyard in an attempt to find where the old man lived.

Her luck was in.

Sarah couldn’t have been there more than ten minutes when the old lady who she met previously came out of a house down the street and slowly walked towards her pushing a small, four-wheeled shopping bag trolley in front of her.

Sarah stood by the gate to the cemetery waiting for the woman to get closer.

“Hello there.” Said Sarah as the old woman approached. “Do you remember me? I met you a little while ago in the churchyard.”

The woman raised her head and squinted her eyes together as she studied Sarah’s face.

“Oh…yes love. What are you doing here?”

“Erm…I…well.” Stuttered Sarah. “I wanted to talk to you again about the old man who was taken away by the ambulance people.”

“What about love? I don’t know ’im right well ya know?”

“I know…but I was hoping…” Sarah paused for a second. “Hoping you might know where he lived?”

The old woman leant heavily on the handle of her shopping trolley and pushed herself up as straight as she could manage.

“ ’e lives down that street there love…at the other end.” She said pointing to the road opposite called Victor Street. On the corner was the Golden Ball pub decorated on both walls with old, red-glazed Victorian tiles and a large golden ball hanging from high up on the corner of the building.

“Do you know which number is his house?” Asked Sarah.

“ ’fraid I don’t love,” Said the lady pausing for a moment obviously deep in thought, “but it’s next door to the old water works building at the end…oh…and it’s the only ’ouse without a bay window…and a patch of grass outside.”

Sarah smiled and rubbed her hands together to try and get some warmth into them.

“Thank you…thank you very much. That’s brilliant.” Said Sarah.

The old woman nodded without the slightest glimmer of emotion on her face and almost barged Sarah out of the way as she made her way past the entrance to the churchyard and then shuffled off further down the street.

This is exactly what I had hoped for thought Sarah to herself as she walked past the pub and slowly made her way down the street…also…the problem with terraced houses is they all look the same…Ok…so the doors are usually a different colour…but basically they’re all the same.

The street was only about a hundred yards long so it didn’t take long to reach the end. The old lady was right…at the end of the street sandwiched between a huge three storey Victorian building with Water Works carved into the stone frontage and the last house on the row with a bay window was a patch of grass in the middle of the pavement. It was directly outside a much smaller terraced that looked as if it didn’t belong. It was made of much older and darker bricks, and was considerably narrower than all the rest…It looked as if it was the first house on the street and the others had been built around it…which seemed a little odd. Sarah knocked on the brown wooden door using the lovely, highly polished brass knocker that someone obviously took great care in…but there was no answer…she knocked again…still no answer, so swivelling her head around to make sure no-one was about, she looked through the front window, but the reflections of the bright sunlight made it almost impossible to see inside. She pressed her nose against the glass and then cupped her hands to both side of her head blocking out the light.

That did it.

Immediately she could see inside and it looked like any other house except it looked…well…old, as if it had been frozen in time from years ago…at least fifty years ago…if not longer. There was a lovely coal fireplace and a two seater settee with a matching chair…the old type with wooden arms and legs, a small brown table with a white table cloth. Above the fire was a solitary black and white picture, which she could just make out…and it was Charlie the old man, with a dog. He was knelt down on one knee looking directly at the camera. One hand was on his raised knee and the other was stroking the dog. It appeared to have been taken many years ago but it was obviously him…there was no doubt.

Well, she said out loud, this is where he lives. She took out a small note book from her coat pocket and wrote down the house number along with the street name…1 Victor Street.

Now she knew where he lived she could go to the hospital and let the staff know…and hopefully that means he could go home. Also she would get to see him again. She had only seen him the once but he had made a huge impression on her…especially those blue eyes of his.