A Girl's Journey

For many days, she travelled, getting ever wearier, struggling to find inside herself the energy to take her one step further towards her destination.

“At least it’s raining today,” she thought, as she walked along the dusty highway, in the middle of nowhere, heading, she didn’t really know where, except that it was east of where she had started from.

As the rain slowly made its way down the inside of the collar of her jacket and seeped into her shirt, making her suddenly aware that it had been DAYS since she’d last had a chance to wash properly, she wondered, not for the first time, why she was making this trek. Why had she left her home, and started walking East along a series of dirt roads and dusty highways? She’d been comfortable enough at home, but had it been enough for her? In her heart, she knew she was the adventurous sort, and so staying put in one place just wasn’t in keeping with her outlook on life. But this kind of travel was not for the faint-hearted. There was a fair amount of risk involved, going off on her own across country, especially when she was doing it primarily on foot.

She looked again at the sky. It was grey and had a certain menacing feeling to it.

“Should try and find some cover for tonight, I guess,” she spoke out loud, though not really feeling like doing more than stretching out in a hot soothing bubble bath.

She glanced around her. Not much cover to be had, really. Some salt bushes, a few trees. Nothing substantial. She wondered how far the next town was, and if she did indeed have enough money on her to warrant a room and a hot bath. She was also starting to feel a tad peckish. Many times since she had started out on her trek she had thought over the fact that even though McDonalds say they are to be found everywhere, and that you can’t go very far without falling over one, they really aren’t all that common in some areas. Not for the first time, she found she was salivating at the thought of a McChicken burger and large cup of coffee. Strange what you crave for when you can’t get something.

“Oh damn!”

The rain was coming down heavily by now, as she slipped over in a ditch by the roadside, tearing her jeans, and wishing more and more for that hot bubble bath.

Up ahead she could see the lights of a remote house. She ran for it. Any shelter was better than sitting in a ditch covered in mud.

As she climbed the stairs onto the landing, and out of the rain, a kindly-looking lady with a baby girl on her hip, came to the door.

“Oh my poor child! Look at you! You’re all dirty and covered in mud. Please come inside out of the rain.”

She followed the lady and the baby inside. The interior was what she had come to expect out in the remote areas. It was homely, though threadbare, but it had a much loved and much lived in look to it.

As she gazed around her at the peeling wallpaper over the chimney breast, and woven rug on the floor, the crocheted doilies on the backs of the chairs and armrests, she realised just how much she had missed the sound of people, on her trek.

A tugging at the region of her left knee made her look down. Looking back up at her with large brown expressive eyes was a little boy of about three years old. He lifted his arms to her, and said “up!” very forthrightly, while nodding his sandy-blonde head, just once. She picked him up. How could she not? He was a sweet child, though in desperate need of a bath.

“Would you like a cup of tea, child?” asked the woman as she gently put the little girl on the rug in front of the fire, and went into the kitchen to make a pot of tea, and put some scones in the oven to warm.

As she settled the little boy down on the rug next to his sister, she found she was crying. It had been a long time since a stranger had been so kind to her.

She and the woman sat at the old wooden kitchen table, and drank their tea in silence. Even the scones were consumed in quite consideration.

“Come and I will show you where the bathroom is, love, so you can wash away all that mud. And then, if you like, I’ll put you up in the spare room for a bit of a sleep.”

She followed the woman into the bathroom, and to her delight she found herself facing a long, deep bath. Very timidly, she asked the woman,

“Do you have any bubble bath, by any chance?”

The woman cocked her head for a moment, as though in thought, while looking her up and down, and then nodded her head, once, just as her son had done before. She disappeared from the room for a moment, before reappearing with an ancient-looking and rather dusty bottle, and handed it to her before leaving her in peace.

She looked at the label. It was old, and faded, and seemed to have a gentile and wizened face on it. The face of someone’s grandmother, no doubt. It said

“Nanny’s Best Home Remedy For All That Ails You.”

She opened the bottle, and was surprised by the delicate scent of Rose and Lavender that wafted up out of it. She poured some into the bath, under the hot running water already rapidly filling the old tub, and then re-corked the bottle and put it aside.

As she settled into that wonderful, hot, sweet-smelling bath, she could feel all the stress, and aches of the last few days slowly seeping away. She must have fallen asleep at some point, as she found herself being roused by a tentative knocking at the door, and a call of

“Are you alright in there, love? You’ve been awhile…”

She climbed out and got dressed into her spare set of clothes, feeling, for the first time in ages, clean.

She followed the lady up the hall and into a brightly lit, and rather charming, small bedroom. As she looked around her, the lady wished her a good sleep, and closed the door.

It didn’t take her long at all to climb into the bed, and stretch out in luxurious comfort. She was asleep in no time.