I sit looking out of the window, my heart beating in time with the tick tock of my favourite silver clock hanging on the wall. Tick tock. Tick tock. It’s nearly time for me to leave, but I can’t help wishing that time would slow down so I can have a few more precious moments with Grandma and Grandad.
It feels strange to be leaving my home for a country I don’t know, to live with a stranger who’s been good enough to invite me into her home. Helen seems kind and caring and I need kindness more than anything else right now. I turn to look at Grandma sitting in her armchair, a multicoloured blanket covering her knees. She’s too weak to travel with me and Grandad won’t leave without her. I worry what will happen to them when I’m far away but it’s too dangerous to stay. The decision has been made.
Grandad places an old photograph in my hand. “Do you remember when you were younger, and we used to bake fresh bread together?” he asks. “You were always covered head to toe in flour.” “I do,” I say, smiling at the picture. I haven’t smelt freshly baked bread in what feels like an eternity. “I remember that time we made biscuits too and we forgot to take them out of the oven. They were burnt to a cinder.” Grandma chuckles. “I remember the time you fell into the river and Grandad jumped in to save you, only he couldn’t swim, and I ended up jumping in to save you both!”
We all laugh until tears stream down our faces. So many happy memories to leave behind.
Suddenly, the clock chimes, abruptly silencing our laughter. It’s time to say goodbye.
I look into Grandma’s eyes. The wrinkles and folds of her skin telling a lifetime of stories. She holds out her ageing hand and I gently take it in mine.
“Be brave, Nataliya,” she says. “You’ve got a chance to start again, the chance of a better future. Promise me you’ll embrace it.” I nod, not trusting myself to speak the words she needs to hear. “I’ll be fine,” I say, forcing a smile but my eyes are telling a different tale.
Grandma rests her head against the chair, tiredness setting in. I kiss her forehead and listen to the soft rise and fall of her breath. “I’ll let you know when I arrive,” I whisper, getting ready to leave. “I love you.”
She squeezes my hand in acknowledgement.
I turn to Grandad and wrap my arms around him. He hugs me back tightly. “Stay safe,” I say. “I’ll try to come back soon.” I’m not sure how I make it to the train station. The streets are a blur partly because I am walking so fast and partly because my eyes are wet with tears. The air feels cold, and damp, tinged with uncertainty, but I make it to the train just in time.
The journey is long and tiring. Moving from platform to platform and carriage to carriage. I sleep mostly, not wanting to see the miles taking me further away from the life I’ve known.
Finally on board my last train, I stow my small suitcase in the luggage hold and a woman moves her rucksack from an empty seat and gestures for me to sit down. She returns to her novel, and I sink into the comfort of the blue patterned fabric, grateful that I’m not expected to make conversation.
A whistle blares and the train pulls away. I am unsure how to feel. A new beginning is exciting, but I desperately want to go back home. Back to Grandma and Grandad and the life I’ve known, but I know I can’t and perhaps I never will. I listen to the rhythmic chugging and watch the flashes of tall grey buildings merge into rows of terraced houses which in turn give way to green fields speckled with sheep and cows. I think of Helen waiting for me further down the track and I wonder if she’s nervous and scared too.
Arriving in the quaint market town that is my final destination, I step onto the platform and take in my new surroundings. Throngs of people chatter with loved ones and suitcase wheels rumble along the concrete floor.
I spot Helen at the far end of the platform, familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. She waves eagerly and runs to meet me. “Nataliya,” she says, kindness dancing in her eyes. “Let me take your case. You must be tired.”
I hand it over without a fuss, grateful for someone else to take charge, just for a moment. “The house is not far away, only two minutes in the car,” she continues. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”
“And you,” I say, overwhelmed by her generosity.
We pull into the driveway, and I catch the first glimpse of my new home. Helen carries my case and I feel the warmth of the sun on my face. My stomach flutters, not with anxiety but with hope. She opens the front door and invites me inside. The first thing I see is a large silver clock hanging on the wall. Tick tock. Tick tock. Then a familiar smell wafts down the hallway and envelopes me. The unmistakable aroma of freshly baked bread.
“Make yourself at home,” Helen says. “I’ll show you to your room.”
I hear Grandma’s words in my head. “Be brave, Nataliya. You’ve got a chance to start again, the chance of a better future. Promise me you’ll embrace it.”