It's all in the name

Those long beautiful fingers with their immaculately filed nails gently holding the tiny white bud to present it to her like a beautifully wrapped gift,

“Here they come Lily, these little flowers are your namesake.”

She looks wistfully at Lily, the face looking back at her so subtly showing all she has lost and yet embodying all she has to be grateful for. Standing in her pristine garden with its borders she has spent careful hours planning, deciding with care what to plant. She feels everyone of her sixty five years, how much longer can she do this for, the combined role of mother and grandmother taking its toll.

“Do you know why she chose Lily for your name?”

Lily shook her head, only the curve of her mouth and slight wrinkle in her forehead betraying her. She had heard this tale many times but even at the tender age of eight she understood how much it meant to her wonderful Nanna to tell the story.

“Your mother picked your name from her favourite flowers. They grow and conquer the garden regardless of the weather that is thrown at them. That’s all she wanted for you Lily, to thrive no matter what the world throws at you.” She looked contemplatively down at Lily wondering why the world was such a cruel place, wondering if the promise of keeping quiet was draining too much from her.

Lily’s young mind wondered,

“Why do they only grow in white, pink and purple flowers are so much prettier.”

She looked up in shock when her Nanna replied, not realizing she had spoken out loud.

“Oh but Lily, there is so much beauty in the simple things, a raindrop on a leaf, a lone daisy in a field of grass, the first shoots of a flower you long since thought was dead.”

“Or a tiny little lamb that made it against the odds,” Lily replies with a serene expression on her cherubic face.

Sometimes Bea wondered how much Lily remembered or had overheard when her and Paul were talking. Lily was so like a lamb that made it against the odds. She shivered and it was nothing to do with the spring breeze that blew so freely in early March.

Even at only eight years old Lily knew she was different. For a start she was the only one that didn’t have a mummy to pick her up at the school gate. Not that she minded, she had a Nanna and a Daddy whom she adored and who made it their life’s mission to make her happy in return. Lily preferred spending time with her beloved Nanna in the garden than racing down the street on her bike or digging into the soft soil planting bulbs deep enough down so the winter frost wouldn’t get them to playing with dolls. 

Today like other days she had chosen her dress because she knew how much her daddy loved it. It had tiny flowers all over it. She had read in a magazine she had found on the coffee table at the doctors (she didn’t know why it was called a coffee table as the doctors only provided water to drink and not coffee) that this kind of pattern was called a ditsy print, she wasn’t sure about that word so just called it a flowery pattern. The purple of the hyacinth matched perfectly with her purple wellies as she told Charlotte when she admired it.

Charlotte was Lily’s friend, although Lily wasn’t sure if that friend was the right word for their relationship. They had lots of conversations that didn’t match, like opposite sides of a coin. Lily would talk about what she had learned in ‘The Gardening Expert’, her surprise at how good the tulips looked next to the hostas and irises. All while Charlotte talked about how she could persuade her mum to buy her the more expensive dress for the party she had been invited to. Lily thought that if she had a mum she would be happy to just talk to her and certainly wouldn’t waste time trying to persuade her to do something she didn’t want to.

Even now as an adult Lily’s favourite time of year was the start of spring. It always made her think of new life, the chance to regrow and start to spread her wings after a long winter spent inside resting and consolidating the previous spring and summer. She had a spare half an hour now and thought she might spend it in the garden trimming some fresh flowers for today’s visit to the nursing home her beloved Nanna now resided in. She had a creeping uneasy feeling and thought that some time in the garden would shift it. She had always been guided by feelings.

Charlotte told her she should,

“Follow the science and not the unknown.”

But this didn’t feel right to her, science was incredible and had made many outstanding advances but it still couldn’t explain why people yawn or why cats purr and this was reason enough for Lily to follow her own senses about what was best for her and not what science tells her is best. That’s why she still visited her Nanna every day in the nursing home despite everyone telling her she would be better spent using that time to find a man and start a family before it was too late. The doctors told her that her Nanna didn’t know her anymore but Lily knew different.

Today she had taken in a bunch of lily of the valley paired with the first of the lady’s mantle that were just starting to flower to replace the browning petals on the false spirea that she brought a few days ago. On her way out of the village she had admired the daffodils growing in clumps in the same place every year but seemingly growing in number annually. She had spent the journey reminiscing about bus rides into town with Nanna to buy more seeds ready for planting in the greenhouse or for a rummage around the charity shops for treasures that other people no longer needed but that Bea always found a purpose for.

She found her in her usual chair by the window. Lily had explained to the nurses many times that Bea would be happier the garden than the blaring television but every time she arrived there she was slack jawed facing the nameless characters on the screen.

“Hi Nanna, how are you doing? Fancy a walk round the garden, the sun is shining.”

It was as though she hadn’t spoken but Lily took the lack of response as confirmation that that’s what they would do, as she did every day. She grabbed an extra blanket from the back of the high backed armchair next to Bea, released the brake on her wheelchair and they were off. She walked slowly around the garden taking the same route as all the other days pointing out the crocuses showing their drooping white heads and the rhododendron bushes about to flower.

Pulling up next to the same bench they have sat at everyday for the last two years, since it was no longer safe for Bea to live with Lily. When she returned from work to the smell of gas and to find Bea making boiled eggs in the kettle despite having put the hob on she knew that her dementia had got more than Lily could handle. With a heavy heart she had moved Bea into the best nursing home in the area and hoped that a daily visit would be enough to maintain their relationship and assuage the guilt she felt at giving up on her. She knew it was the best way to keep them both safe but it didn’t make it any easier.

While they sat she kept up a continuous monologue about work, and the plans she and Charlotte had made for the weekend when Bea abruptly interrupted her,

“You need to find her.”

“Oh Nanna, she has only moved five doors down, the only house with a red door.”

“Not Charlotte, Daisy.”

Lily’s heart suddenly leapt into her mouth and she felt like she was choking on the lump in her throat.

“Would you like me to collect some daisies for your vase Nanna?” she tentatively asked, not daring to give words to the thoughts spiralling through her mind.

“Not the flower, your mother.”

Lily felt the single tear tracing down her cheek, leaving a mascara streaked line behind it like a tyre track in freshly fallen snow. It broke her heart to have to explain again that Daisy had passed away giving birth to Lily. The guilt she felt pressed down on her like a flower press on a freshly dried rose, it was her own fault she had no mother.

Gently she whispered, taking her Nanna’s paper thin hands gently in hers,

“Daisy is gone, she has been gone for a long time now Nanna.”

“Yes and you need to find her, so when you lay me to rest there is someone to look after you.”

Normally Lily found these visits hard but that was because the conversation was usually very one – sided with her giving a running commentary of her surroundings and her day at work. When she looked into the old ladies milky grey eyes she saw a lucidity that hadn’t been there for a long time.

“What do you mean Nanna,” she asked haltingly not really sure if she even wanted to know the answer.

With that Bea handed her a note, yellowed and creased with age from her cardigan pocket. Lily found she was trembling all over as she took the piece of paper from those long elegant fingers.

She glanced over the words, tears silently streaming down both of her cheeks. A message from her mother that must have been placed with Lily shortly after birth. It stated that she was sorry she had to leave but she would bring nothing but evil to the child and she trusted her mother to do a better job with her baby than she ever could.

It ended with please call her Lily, she will grow and flourish where I couldn’t.

The exertion had exhausted Bea who had quietly fallen asleep. Lily took her in before she got a chill. She hurriedly picked up her bag and flew off down the corridor ignoring the concerned nurse calling her name, forgetting to sign out in her haste. She struggled to unlock the door to her little VW bug, pressing the wrong button on the fob three times before she heard the reassuring beep of the doors unlocking. She stumbled into the car and sat with her head resting on the steering wheel, auburn curls falling in front of her face and had never felt more alone.

She didn’t know where to go or who to turn to. Her wonderful dad had been stolen from them way too soon some years ago after suffering a massive heart attack in the garden while trimming the conifers ready for the winter. Had he known? Why hadn’t he told her? Who else knew? She had very few friends, as she had grown older she hadn’t gotten any better at understanding people or how to build relationships. Charlotte, her childhood friend had loved Lily regardless and they had remained friends all of these years. Her house would be crazy though, full of tiny feet running too fast in a too small space and little voices shouting at each other each clamouring to be heard. Lily loved them all dearly but it only served as a reminder of all the things she hadn’t managed to achieve.

She rummaged in her bag for a tissue, finding one that looked like it had only been used once or twice she blew her nose and wiped her eyes and turned on the engine. As if under hypnosis she drove without thinking or feeling, as she pulled up at the churchyard she had known all along this was where she was headed. The well kept lawns punctuated with grey headstones and bright pots with daffodils and tulips in them.

Even though darkness was setting in she walked as if in a trance to the bench that overlooked the church and the garden of remembrance and sat down. It didn’t matter that there were now a few spots of rain landing lightly on her cardigan and scarf or that there was already someone on the bench, she just knew that this was where she needed to be.

Her mind was racing. Was it true? Was her mother really alive? Why had she left? Why had nobody ever told her? Did she want to find her? Who could do that, leave their only child at just a few hours old? Did it matter now? Who knew about it? Was she really so unlovable that even her own mother couldn’t love her? Why had she never thought about it before, there was no grave they brought flowers too, no memorial stone to sweep and tend. She had come here to the church to try and answer some of those questions but the questions were whirring so fast she felt dizzy.

“It’s so peaceful isn’t it?” she heard a quiet voice whisper across the gloomy dusk.

“I’m so sorry to intrude” he continued when she didn’t even look up let alone answer. “You just look so sad and I would have worried about you all evening if I hadn’t spoken to you. Would you like a cup of tea? I have my thermos here and I always make enough for two, just incase.”

Lily lifted her eyes to look through her eyelashes at the peculiar man without raising her head.

“Incase of what?” she enquired carefully.

“Oh you know, I meet a young lady who is so engrossed in her sadness that she doesn’t even realise she is weeping.”

Lily felt the colour rush to her cheeks. She was weeping.

“Tea always helps. I would offer you a penny for your thoughts but I don’t have one, I’m hoping a cup of tea is a good enough offer. A problem shared is a problem halved apparently.”

“You’re very kind, tea would be lovely, thank you.”

She could almost feel the man beside her blush.

“I’m William, after the sweet william flowers that were my mums favourite, not the prince sadly.”

Lily felt a tiny lift in her heart, a man named after a flower, she had never heard of such a thing.

“I’m lily, after lily of the valley, they were my Nanna’s favourite,” she didn't even feel bad about the tiny fib.

“Ooh strong and hardy and also slightly poisonous, how intriguing.”

The rain started to fall more heavily but Lily wasn’t ready to leave. As if sensing this the man produced from his bag a bright blue umbrella,

“I always carry this one at this time of year as the colour is so like the beautiful blue hydrangeas my mother loved and it matches perfectly with my spring gloves,” he explained.

He carefully placed the umbrella in the middle, nestling them together but with ample space for her to still feel safe and uncrowded.

Lily couldn’t help being transported back to that ditsy print dress with the hyacinths that so perfectly matched her purple wellies.

As Lily warmed her hands on the tea in its plastic thermos cup she gave a small smile to herself. She felt like her load had slightly lightened. She suddenly felt less alone and more like herself, sitting next to this curious man who carried a thermos of tea with him just incase. Who knew what she would decide to do but at this moment she decided to just enjoy this time she had right now with sweet William. She didn’t need to find a mother who hadn’t wanted her to no longer feel alone. Science would probably help them to find one another if the time ever felt right but her emotions had brought her here to this place at this time and even now her feelings were winning out over science.