Christine stared at the message on her mobile phone, before typing “thank you,” and clicking send. She knew her friends were worried about her, but she just didn’t have the energy to hold a conversation.
“Please mummy, can we fly the kites today?” Her thoughts were interrupted by her young son.
“Oh, I don’t know Tommy? There’s not a breath of wind.”
Tommy’s small face crumpled and as she looked at her five-year-old son, she felt a lump in her throat. Since losing her husband Joe, Christine struggled to make Tommy smile. It troubled her, that her own grief deprived Tommy and three-year-old Emma, his little sister, of the normal fun they should be enjoying, or help them manage their own loss.
Tommy’s kite was the last thing Joe worked on before ill health left him too weak to handle the tools in his workshop. Joe spent hours perfecting the frames for two kites as Tommy and Emma watched. Together they chose the material for the covering, and the brightly coloured tails and planned their maiden flights. With ill-fated timing the season changed, the days grew dark, and rain filled. Then it was too late.
Now it was just the three of them, plus two untested kites.
Deep down, Christine knew the truth; she was frightened to fly those kites. She was frightened of many things these days. Frightened of the bills that came through the letterbox, the news on TV, the long nights alone in her big bed with only her memories. She was frightened of the gaunt stranger who stared back at her from the mirror. She feared she had driven people away, paralysed be her own emotions and unable to let them help her. Most of all, she was frightened the kites would break or blow away. Two wooden and cloth structures, they had become disproportionately important in her life. If they lost them, she and the children would lose another part of Joe.
Turning her attention back to her son, Christine bent to kiss the top of his blond head.
“Maybe tomorrow, Tommy.”
His eyes, the image of his father’s looked back at her unblinking. “Promise, mummy.”
“Yes Tommy, I promise.” Christine hugged him.
Later, as she tucked the children into bed, she resolved that tomorrow she would keep that promise, there was no other choice. “Oh Joe.” She whispered, holding her favourite wedding photograph close to her. “I didn’t realise it would be so hard.” She looked at the photo of Joe so tall and handsome, grinning from ear to ear as he gazed at Christine, glowing with love as she smiled back at him. Her dark hair pulled into a casual chignon, showing off her slim features. Now her wedding band slipped off her finger; and with reluctance, she had stopped wearing it, worried she would lose it forever.
After another restless night, Christine rose early, determined not to disappoint Tommy, she prepared a picnic lunch and packed the car.
As it was Sunday, she hoped the roads would be quieter. Having checked the weather report, she knew where she was heading; but she had to move fast before all her resolve disappeared.
“Are we going to fly them today mum?” Tommy said.
The querulous tone in his small voice brought tears springing to her eyes.
“I hope so Tommy, I hope so.” Christine replied as she picked up Emma, and held her tight, determined she wouldn’t give in to her fears, she had got this far this morning.
“Right, let’s go.” She said helping them into the car.
“Where are we going mummy?” Tommy asked from the back of the car.
Emma sang, “Where we going? Where we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” Christine shouted back.
Before long they left the town and passed through countryside, heading for the coast. Christine knew exactly where she was going. It had come to her as the dawn began to break where her destination had to be for this special event.
As she turned the car at a junction Tommy called out. “I can see the sea, are we going to the seaside mummy?”
“Well spotted Tommy, yes that’s where we’re heading. Is that ok?”
“Oh, yes mummy. Daddy said that’s the best place to fly kites.”
“Fly kites.” Emma echoed.
Christine smiled so far so good; she hoped the distraction of the sand and sea would help if the kite flying was a disaster.
It was still only mid-morning as Christine pulled into the familiar car park next to the beach. She and Joe had spent many happy times on this beach, as childhood friends, then sweethearts, newly-weds, and then with their children. Christine had forgotten how much she loved to look at the sea and feel the wind blow through her hair.
Now she had two excited children scrambling down the ramp in their eagerness to reach the sand.
“Look mummy, look.” Tommy pointed to a group of people a short distance away. “Kites!”
Christine looked, and as she hoped there would be, a group of people in differing age groups were focused on keeping their kites in the air and watching in amongst them her two best friends. Her stomach gave a lurch and she hesitated, maybe this hadn’t been such a clever idea. Late last night she had reached out to her friends, and asked if they would help her, and of course they willingly agreed. She remembered the stories Joe told her of the fun he experienced with his own father, trying to get his kite to catch the wind, and he spoke of how helpful other kite flyers had been.
“Now then Joe, please give me the strength to do this.” Christine whispered.
“Let us give you that strength too Christine.” Annie her friend said, wrapping her arms around her.
Christine allowed Annie to hold her, and it felt good to feel safe again. She smiled tearfully as Frances her other friend hugged the children, then carrying Tommy and Emma’s precious kites on to the sand, she helped Tommy lay out his kite. She cautioned him to hold on to the bridle of the frame where it crossed over and to keep his back to the wind. With a whoosh, it had taken off. Christine’s heart lurched, please don’t let it blow away. Tommy’s face was a picture of concentration as he tried to master the string.
“That’s it, young fella. Lift, it up a bit at a time not too much line now.” A voice behind them said.
Turning Christine noticed the others had moved towards them.
“My, it’s a beauty you’ve got there.” The man continued.
“My daddy made it.” Tommy said proudly his face red with exertion.
“Well, he’s done a fantastic job.” The man smiled back at Tommy.
“Hi.” A voice beside Christine said. Christine turned to see an older lady with warm brown eyes that at once put her at ease.
“That’s my husband Frank, and I’m Rose.” She waved her hand around the group saying. “And these are our fellow kite flyers.”
“Hi.” Christine smiled. “I’m Christine and these are my children Tommy and Emma, and I know nothing about flying kites. My husband made these for the children before...” She smiled through trembling lips.
Rose touched Christine’s arm. “Well, you’ve come to the right place; every one of them,” she pointed at the group. “Love to teach newcomers it’s a passion; they can’t help themselves.” She laughed.
“Right little lady.” Rose said to Emma. “Shall we get your gorgeous butterfly up in the sky to fly with your brother’s majestic eagle?”
Emma smiled shyly in reply.
Christine was surprised; lost in her own world she hadn’t even realised Joe had made an eagle for Tommy and a butterfly for Emma. He had given them each a personality, making little kite chums for his children. Little wonder Tommy had been so desperate to fly them.
Soon both kites were soaring through the sky. Christine gasped; they were stunning. The bright colours were mesmerising as they swooped and then catching the wind rose to magnificence again. Their beautiful spirits flew free and wild, unfettered by grief but anchored by love.
Christine felt her own spirits lighten as she listened to the wonderful sound of her children laughing, and making new friends, and having faith their kites would fly. She too had faith as she permitted the warmth and love of her faithful friends to comfort her, she believed they would raise her up again and give her the courage she needed to face the world. She felt thankful too, for these generous kite flyers who had reached out and welcomed them, and in doing so helped her appreciate the gift Joe had left them.
Lifting her head to the sky she whispered, “Thank you, Joe. My absolute best friend. Fly high my darling.” And she sent her words floating into the wind with his beautiful kites.
Elizabeth McGinty, lives in Scotland, where she studied creative writing. She writes short stories, pocket novels and occasional poems for popular women’s magazines.
She has also had three Pocket Novels published by D.C Thomson, all of which have been subsequently published by Ulverscroft for their Linford Romance series and are available in public libraries.
She is a member of the Romantic Novelists Association and The Society of Authors and Scottish Association of Writers.
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