Chapter 17
Hetty sat on a bench. It was airy and the space around her was vast, but in place of the sky was … white. So much white. And light – so much light.
This morning, a letter had arrived for her. Inside it had been a shiny, bendy plastic – she was very much still getting used to plastic – ‘card’. Aggie had helped her ‘activate’ it (although it still looked no different to the moment it had arrived) and had sent her off with Jemima for a day out.
At first Hetty had hated the noise and busyness of it all, but she was starting to appreciate it a little more now.
Suddenly, delighted screams ricocheted against the concrete pillars and marble floors of the vast shopping centre.
A group of women around her own age gathered by a nearby shop.
A young man arrived to join them and the friends crowded around him, pulling down his hood and ruffling his hair until he grinned reluctantly.
They turned to leave and caught Hetty staring, but before she could feel even an iota of shame for being caught spying, they all, as one, smiled and nodded at her in friendly acknowledgement.
Hetty felt awash with gladness as the group melted into the crowds.
She had no idea where they might be going but felt a tug – an unexpected impulse to run and join them, to introduce herself.
She was shaken awake from a dream which had barely begun when Jemima, back from doing some ‘errands’, plonked herself down on the bench and immediately expanded to fit the remaining space.
Hetty almost laughed at her aunt’s ability to produce endless cardigans, scarves, tissues and anything one could want at any time.
Now that Hetty could grasp how the screens worked, they had been watching films and Jemima’s bag was eerily similar to that of Mary Poppins.
‘Had enough yet, dearie?’
Hetty considered this question carefully. She looked at her heavy bag of books, then back at her kindly aunt. ‘Yes, I think so. I think one could spend all day in such a place, however. What is it called, again?’
‘Westfield, lovely. A shopping centre.’
‘And can we get the Tube home?’
Jemima twinkled at her. ‘Changed your tune, haven’t you?’
‘It’s not what I thought, you know,’ Hetty mused, prodding at her strange bubble tea drink with its ginormous tube and chewy lumps of goo.
‘What, 2023?’
‘No,’ said Hetty. ‘London.’
‘How are you feeling, dear? I did wonder if this might all be a bit much for you, but you seem to be taking it all rather well.’
Hetty thoughtfully sipped at her tea, before nearly choking on a boba and coughing. Jemima slapped her on the back.
‘I never thought I’d say this, but I’m feeling much brighter, you know. I wonder if I was perhaps just not in the right frame of mind, before.’
As she said it aloud, she wondered when things had started to change. Was it the medication, or was it being out in the world again?
It all felt so wonderful. Not so long ago, Hetty would have shuddered at the very thought of wandering through crowds of chattering people and loud traders, but instead of shielding herself against it she’d allowed the noise to run through her body and energise her; to power her heart.
Nowadays every morning felt full of promise. She was starting to wonder – was it finally time to start working on her wish list?