Page 16 of The Second Chance Bus Stop

London

a caring soul. She has never had trouble keeping house plants alive for starters, something she understands is quite the achievement

amongst young people.

But this is challenging, there’s no point denying it. There’s the fact that Edith never seems to stop talking—asking questions,

sharing anecdotes, pondering out loud. Often delivered as she walks behind Zara, or sits right next to her. Looking over her

shoulder as she types. It is like having a work trainee that you invite into every area of your life. Or perhaps like being

in a reality tv series, and Edith is the camera operator hovering, watching her every move.

Then there is the not talking. When Zara tries to get answers such as ‘Are you hungry?’ or ‘Did you wash your hands?’ she feels like her own mother

asking her what she had for lunch at school to which she’d, of course answer, ‘I can’t remember.’ So who is she to judge,

really?

But, already she and Edith are settling into a rhythm, just as Zara knew they would.

If nothing else, she wants Blade to see it can be done: He can let go, other people can help, Edith will be all right.

While she understands his concern, she doesn’t want to watch him continue to recede, further and further into the house, into his role of caretaker. She wants him to live life.

Much like she herself wants to live life. However hard she’s been finding it lately. She has work, sure, and friends, clearly.

But she’s been trying and trying to figure out what else she wants, what else there is, and has been... coming up short.

How is she supposed to know? How is anyone at this age! Maybe something for her to do, or at least to spend more time thinking

about, once Blade is home. They can each start pressing onward together. Then she’ll have someone invested in the effort right

alongside her.

Zara looks to Edith then, who’s been quiet for a while now, and thinks she may venture a question.

‘Edith, I was wondering something.’

Edith turns to look at her.

‘We all wonder a great many things. What makes this one special?’

Zara can’t help but smile at the honesty and sheer brazen quality of the response. Zara closes her laptop and gets to her

feet, walking up to Edith who’s been standing by the window as if she’s watching the world go by, despite the fact the curtain

is drawn.

‘I went up to your room to find your list of medications and had a scroll through the coffee table book Britain’s Parks and Gardens and found a letter. Blade said you two had been going through your old correspondence with Sven, trying to piece together

where Blade might look for him.’

‘Yes, he needed a road map for Sweden. Didn’t want him getting lost.’

Right, well, I was wondering, then, why didn’t you give him all the letters?’

Edith appeared to be thinking hard, she paused for a long moment before delivering her answer.

‘Because sometimes people aren’t ready to see the whole picture. So you give them half.’

Zara stares at her. She’s definitely got a point, she thinks.

‘There may well be more in the house. Even photos. I’ve become just like my grandmother who would stuff cash under matrasses

and books. Hide valuables ,’ she admits. ‘I couldn’t tell you where all I’ve put things.’

Zara nods, thinking that she’ll have to look, see if she can find anything to help Blade on his journey—anything to help Edith.

Maybe she’ll be able to help piece the whole picture together, even if she still can’t see it.