17

Spring – The Season of Rebirth

In the lower fields below Alfie’s house, the cherry trees near the standing stone were still laden with late-flowering drifts of soft, fluttering, bright pink blossom. The musky scent of the hawthorn trees’ white, lacy flowers blew in the wind, and sheep grazed on the lush, spring grass, their lambs, in small packs, jumped and careered playfully around them. Hawks hovered in the air, before gently tilting a wing to sweep in a fast wide arc to take up another fixed point in the clear, blue sky. A stream of small brightly coloured fishing boats puttered in lines in and out of the bay, heading to and from their deep-water fishing grounds. Everywhere the bright yellow sun of spring shone warmly on the land, now healed from the grip of the deathly frosty-fingered winter.

“Special breakfast on its way!” shouted Alfie.

His dad, covered in a pink and white striped apron, wrestled with the last sausage in the frying pan. It kept rolling off his spatula, so he flipped it over the edge and onto the plate with a splash of hot fat, to join the mushrooms, bacon, tomato and scrambled egg.

“Yum,” his dad couldn’t resist saying to himself.

“Isn’t Mum meant to be eating healthily?” Alfie queried.

“She is, these are all the main food groups, protein, veg, fruit. Tomato’s a fruit, you know…”

Alfie put on his “sure Dad, whatever…” face and grabbed the tray, skipping up the stairs to the bedroom.

“Hello, my lovely boy,” said his mum, as he set it down on her lap, and she sat up in bed.

She looked radiant. Bright-eyed and shining. Picking up a fork she manoeuvred some egg onto a bit of toast and steadily raised it to her mouth.

“Mmm… this is so good.”

He couldn’t believe the change. She was getting stronger with each day of spring.

“Dad told me you’ve found a patch of primroses on the mountain. I’d love to see them; would you take me there when I’m a bit stronger?”

“Of course, Mum. They’re clustered in a lovely little sheltered hollow, about half a mile away. We can take a picnic with us.”

She then looked at him with a curiously serious face. “Alfie, my love, I haven’t mentioned it before, but I’m puzzling about that dream I had in the hospital of you and me holding a cup, before the others rushed in. Was I dreaming?”

Alfie hesitated. He hadn’t mentioned the events of that night to anyone. Who would have believed him? He’d have been referred for counselling. She had to look down quickly to stop him from seeing the tears welling up in her eyes.

“You and Dad never ever gave up on me, even when I’d given up on myself. I’m so proud of you.” She clasped his hands and looked up into his eyes again. “I don’t know how you managed, looking after us both, my strong, brave boy. By the way, Dad tells me that you and Melanie are seeing a lot of each other. I’m so pleased, she’s such a bright, lovely girl. You must tell me everything that’s happened, everything! I mean, about that evening,” she added with a sparkle in her eye, and he laughed. “Anyway, enough of this, let me finish this amazing breakfast and I’ll be right down.”

The days grew longer and warmer and his mother stronger and louder, until she was up and living life as she had been before. His father, too, face beaming, standing tall, and singing songs with the wrong words again, just like the old Dad. It was now three busy months since his mum had returned from hospital, and the cup had almost drifted out of his mind.

As Alfie walked home from school with Melanie one day, taking the shortcut across the fields, there, stood right in their path, was the hare.

“Look!” he stopped and whispered. “That’s the hare I saw last winter. The field was all covered in frost then.” The hare was still covered in sleek, shiny, white fur, which was unusual in late spring. Most hares would have turned the colour of sandy brown soil by now, into which they could press themselves to become almost invisible. “Hello again, friend,” said Alfie. “Thank you for reminding me…” he hesitated, feeling a bit self-conscious, “never to lose hope.”

He thought Melanie would gag, and pretend to put a finger down her throat, but she didn’t. She was looking at the hare too.

“He’s so beautiful,” she whispered back.

The hare stared back unblinking. Its eyes still as bright as bluebells in a patch of snow. They both walked carefully past, Alfie turning this time to see what it would do. It stood up on its hind legs, one paw swept over its ears which sprang back up, and it loped slowly across the field to the base of a rocky outcrop. In the dip at the base of the cliff, he could just make out four or five little leverets, baby brown hares, nibbling and hopping around the mother hare. The hare looked back momentarily then disappeared through a gap in the rock.

“So that’s where you went,” Alfie chuckled. “No pocket watch and rabbit hole this time.”

They walked on across the field, now talking about Alice in Wonderland, ice-cream and magical events, until they joined the road to Alfie’s house again. Looking across at Melanie walking beside him, he took a deep breath of fresh Tudllan air and couldn’t help smiling. For the first time since his move, Alfie felt whole again and thought, This is my home now… I’m home.