Sunflowers & Sins

SunFlowers & Sins Philip Webberley Art Cover by Freddy Flores Published by The Little French eBooks Copyright 2020- Philip Webberley All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. A began with a sin... A Break 'Oh no, surely not!' exclaimed Evelyn Barnswell, looking out of her bedroom window after sliding out of bed; the sky was grey, not looking promising at all. 'Typical! I plan some shopping, and this is what happens with the weather and on my day off too!' she lamented to her reflection in the mirror. By the time she had sorted herself out, picked up little Daniel - her cousin Jessie's little boy - and parked up in town, the weather had further deteriorated. It was now wet, that horrible 'mizzle' in the air that seems to cling to everything. And it was cold. Matters had not been improved when, before she left, she received a text from the Care Home...the Care Home she managed as part of Barnswell Holdings; it was another security lapse...someone had 'wandered' off. She had responded, 'Please Take care of it for me Meghan, I'm actually supposed to be off today, but I'll come in later to tidy up before I disappear on my short holiday tomorrow.' There's always b****y something happening she thought. Her previously happy mood was already being challenged, what with the weather - and now a security alert at the Home, but 'hey-ho' some shopping beckoned and a sense of purpose reasserted itself. However --- important, memo to herself - “Does our internal security and alarm systems need an update? Must check.” Evelyn made her way along the pavement in the middle of the very busy high street keeping an eye out for puddles and splashing vehicles - a real heavy shower had passed through earlier - as she manoeuvred the buggy in the direction of sanctuary, sanctuary being a department store cafe on the top floor with the promise of peace and respite from the hustle and bustle of what seemed like a million shoppers, all fighting for space on the pavement. Little Danny was unconcerned, being nicely covered up and protected in the equivalent of his Humvee-type buggy contraption, big wheels, high up, almost armour-plated. You know the type - needing a mortgage to buy one. He even looked happy. Yes, Eve was child-minding today for Jessie...again, while Jessie was recovering from her usual excesses. This had annoyed her if she was honest with herself – being taken for granted by her cousin who often sneered at Eve's kindness and sense of family duty; she had gone too far...and Eve was beginning to lose patience. 'Why do I have to pick up the pieces every time...?' she asked herself - '...but one day...one day she'll regret it.' Then a little calm settled upon her to steady her mood, to almost the level of normal Evelyn. Almost, so much promise for her day off she mused until humanity interfered. First, she nearly had her glasses knocked off by someone's umbrella, and some thoughtless i***t bashed into her as he fiddled with the controls of some gadget wired to his shell-like ears. When she bent down to double-check on Danny’s cover, she suddenly realised as she looked at reflections in an adjacent, large puddle – a puddle the size of an Olympic swimming pool she thought – that an Octavia taxi was just entering it; and not slowly either. A huge surfer-sized splash sprayed them both, but Danny was okay in his sturdy contraption. Eve was not - the splash came at face height when she was bent down, knocking her glasses off; the taxi had succeeded where the umbrella had not. Already agitated from the gadget-man encounter, now she was really angry. And cold, miserable. Fed up. She retrieved her glasses; they appeared undamaged. But there was worse; before she had time to stand back up somebody in a hurry stumbled over her, nearly falling and shouting, 'For Christ's sake what the hell are you doing down there you stupid i***t!' ....as the contents of one of her shopping bags had begun to spill out onto the wet pavement. She desperately scrambled about retrieving 'this & that' - no one helping. A brief thought crossed her mind... 'My kingdom for a machine g*n - and all these buggers will be out of my way!' Evelyn was normally a calm person...but that's what she was thinking right then. Or just to scream and shout at someone. 'Try and be calm...you have Danny with you,' she told herself. Nonetheless, she was getting more hot and bothered with the crowds, but sanctuary beckoned - the entrance to the store was close by...the peace and quiet of the cafe on the top floor...a cup of tea, a bar of chocolate, an orange juice for Danny - and maybe a sticky ice-bun or an Angel Cake. Then she might be able to compose herself and have a quick look at the local paper. Danny was remarkably quiet, not bothered with all the hassle, noise and wet. But she still had to fight her way to the lifts...please God, let's hope they're working. They were, but there were queues, so sanctuary was delayed a little...with some more scrummage, brollies being shaken, scarves being unwound - everybody jockeying for space waiting for the doors to open. On the top floor she stepped out of the lift into calmness, quiet, a low-talking hum mixed with the occasional clink and clatter of crockery and cutlery...and some inviting savoury smells including that of strong coffee. ¡Oh no - horror! No spaces, no empty tables. Wait a minute – yes, there's one over there. Eve made a beeline to a table not yet cleaned but hey, any port in a storm. It was a two-seater which she thought safe - who is going to want to sit next to a mum-and-kid combo, perhaps a noisy kid at that? Only a masochist. Coat over a chair and buggy parked next to it, Eve made her way to the counter and came back a few minutes later with the goodies...including her favourite - a KitKat...that constant in the universe. Always good. She made sure Danny was happy first before unfolding her newspaper. It's the little pleasures in life that make all the difference she thought...and perhaps in 20 minutes she might be restored to full sanity and dryness. But a shadow cast itself over her Page One , and on looking up saw, to her quiet annoyance, an elderly chap negotiating himself towards the other chair opposite her, placing his glass of juice next to some glossy magazine he had. 'Do you mind...' he asked... '….is it free?' 'Not at all – please help your-self,' she lied in reply - it was the only chair left as she could see. The table shook as he moved, spilling her drink - one of those tables that wouldn't stand still on its legs...we've all encountered them, haven't we? As the man settled himself Eve looked at him with lowered eyes pretending she was reading; before he had sat down she noticed he was quite tall and fairly slim with a non-descript face that sported a pair of glasses...I suppose glasses come to us all eventually she thought. He began reading his mag...it looked like steam-engines or something – there was a thumb-nail picture of Portillo peering out from the front cover wearing clothes as bright and mixed as Las Vegas on a Saturday night. Made a change from the constant news about the London Olympics that was almost upon them. Just as she was about to turn over the page, she was struck dumb – he reached across and snapped off a finger of KitKat! My God...what is he doing?!! Her mouth dropped open and stayed that way for seconds. Help! - she screamed in her mind. This cannot be happening to me. She looked at him now, becoming furious but also partly scared because she had Danny - the sense of added responsibility for his safety increased her discomfort, preventing her doing what she should have done - making a scene and challenging him; she was now feeling more vulnerable. Who the hell does he think he is? Leave my b****y KitKat alone! she wanted to say – to say something, anything, but was suddenly frozen into in-articulation. Then she looked around to see if she was being set-up...the star on Candid Camera or You've Been Framed or something: or hopefully, if anybody else had witnessed this blatant, rude and intimidating behaviour? But no, the world continued to orbit the sun...nobody else had seen a thing; nobody looked up. Now she felt acutely embarrassed at her hidden humiliation, being taken advantage of so quietly, so matter-of-factly. What should she do, having looked around to see if the cavalry - or any other help - was at hand? She then considered; let's wait a minute – maybe it's a simple mistake and that he would notice, make profuse apologies and that everything would become beautiful again...let's face it, old folk can be forgetful, or just plain stupid, or thoughtless. Yes, that must be it! But it had further unsettled her in her current state of agitation. Benefit of the doubt - she'd give him another minute... Her hopes were short-lived. She was devastated when within seconds and quite nonchalantly, his hand wandered over the table searching by feel for the chocolate, before once more, breaking off another finger of the KitKat - he completely engrossed with a steam engine that looked as if it had a hundred large wheels on it. Now she wanted to scream. How dare the world does not notice what was happening! If only she didn't have Danny with her to worry about. Eve noticed the man also had a sticky bun before him, not yet touched - too busy with the KitKat no doubt - but her mind was now in turmoil; so far she'd had a real, real bad day and being cold, wet, soggy in parts, and wanting peace, the last thing she needed was some arrogant bully to add to her misery. And the world not noticing! But...I'll give him one more chance...he could be suffering from something... However, a strategy was already forming in her mind because it did not look as if he was going to apologise any time soon...he looked quite calm and nonchalant, seemingly without a care in that steam-driven world of his; but there was no way he was going to get away with it scot-free, oh no! No way. She moved her belongings, set her bags ready and pointed Danny in the right direction - towards the lifts, ready for a quick get-away, taking a final sip of her drink. ….and he does it again! Another piece of KitKat gone! That's it! She's furious - now in a quiet but seething rage. Forget the machine g*n, give me a base-ball bat instead, I want to lash out! Trembling now, beside herself in a complete – and so far – silent rage, she abruptly stands up, quickly dons her coat and reaches over to his bun, picks it up, takes a big bite out of it, slams it back down on his plate and for good measure, picks up his drink and throws it at him - most of it going all over his head because he had leant forward to rescue his bun – and triumphantly shouts, with her mouth half-full... 'SO THERE, you bully!' Within ten seconds she's at the lift, smirking, quivering, shaking and panicking all at once, urging the doors to open fast...and they did. She didn't want to look back to see that horrible man again and, on the way down she began to feel much, much better, calmer. 'YES!' she cried out in the lift, 'Serves him right – the sod!' Now she could get home and prepare for that short holiday she was going on tonight, to stay with a friend a hundred miles away as soon as Danny was back with Jessie. On the journey home she felt smug, ‘…getting one back – justice!' she thought. But as more minutes passed there was just a little part of her thinking maybe she went over the top with the coffee. Just a bit.