The First Journey

August shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the calming cool of the window caressing her squashed cheek was harshly smothered by the sharp edge of her grandad’s elbow that was invading her personal space and her rib cage. Everything was too noisy; the cab driver’s radio was rattling on about the weather, her uncle’s phone blaring nursery rhymes and her little cousin who alternated between crying and screaming. What a fantastic start to the holiday she thought. Still, she couldn’t complain at least they were able to go. It had been so touch and go over the past couple of years that just leaving the city itself was a huge blessing.

The overburdened car turned into one of the country lanes, it was an extremely narrow road caged in by towering, unruly hedges. August felt her anxiety levels rise as the car had to keep stopping to let people squeeze past although she did find it amusing how they would have to disappear into the hedges and then reappear looking slightly more dishevelled and often harbouring stowaway twigs or leaves.

The scenery was very pretty and every so often she could catch glimpses of the sea. She had just started to enjoy her journey when the cab made its way up a steep hill; a feat found too strenuous for the little car. The smell of smoke started to overtake the inharmonious smell of baby food and air freshener, then the car started to screech and clunk. The sound of spinning tires assaulting the eardrums announced that they were now stuck.

Within seconds the cars behind started to honk and her uncle and the cab driver started a panicked discussion. The driver kept pressing on the wheel, but the car didn’t move an inch. She kept catching the word clutch and gone. It didn’t sound good.

Her pondering was interrupted by a loud rapping on the window. She could feel her cheeks starting to burn already.

In the window was the face of an old, red-faced man, his whisps of white hair being blown about madly by the breeze.

“Your clutch is gone”, he grumbled.

The cab driver nodded and said something about trying to drive.

“Not going to happen. You’re not going anywhere, it's gone”.

The cab driver insisted.

“No. I’m telling you! You’re not bloody going anywhere”, he shouted rather rudely.

August felt her blood run cold when he turned his attention to the passengers in the back.

‘You, you, you out. You need to push’.

They sat there stunned for a moment taking in this random stranger’s orders. In her mind’s eye, she could see the image of the unlikely recruits this man was trying to rouse. There was her uncle with a baby strapped to his chest her grandad clutching his walking stick and then herself who was still paying for a gym membership she had quite forgotten about.

“I can’t do it; I’ve got a bad leg. Come on out.”

She was starting to get annoyed. Firstly, no one had asked him to and secondly, why was he bossing them about? He wasn’t exactly being helpful.

Regardless they scrambled out of the car and took their positions at the boot. To her surprise, other people had gotten out of their cars and held on to the sides. That made her smile. Although they were all perfect strangers, they all started to work in unison to the commands of their self-elected hoary captain. Pushing the car up the hill she could feel her hands starting to burn from the heat of the metal. Her boots battled with the shifting gravel under her feet. Even with the help of the others, it was a hard task, but she soon found that there was no greater feeling than when the ground became level again as they pushed the car to over onto the top of the hill. There were shouts of triumph and thanks passed around.

The three of them found themselves standing on a small patch of grass watching the other cars drive on as they waited for the engine to call down. Curiosity took hold of them all as they spread out to explore the immediate area. August felt drawn to the area directly behind her, there in the bushes was nestled a wooden gate she walked over and leaned on its rough frame. The view was spectacular. The landscape was a patchwork of farmland, various shades of green and yellow segregated by well-kept stitches. The sky was a pearly grey there seemed to be a shimmer to it like a painting left to dry. A slight breeze pushed its way through the scene causing the colours to ripple. Despite the movement, however, the whole moment felt still.

‘It’s beautiful’ August sighed.

A happy-sounding squawk sounded in agreement. She turned to look and there on top of the post, a crow was perched taking in the same scene as her.

She smiled, “Even the birds are friendlier here” She took out the half-eaten packet of biscuits and crumbled one up placing it on the post for the bird.

She heard her name being called and headed back to the car.

                                                                     ***

Their holiday home was well hidden, if it wasn’t for the ruined tower of a medieval church that boarded the property sticking out of the trees, they would have passed it. The driver turned into the drive soon his car was engulfed in a tunnel of trees.

‘Last night I dreamed I went to Manderley again…’ Mrs de Winters's words echoed distantly in her mind as the house was slowly revealed to them.

The place was beautiful well-kept lawns boarded with flowery hedges. The house itself a mix of pale grey stone and purple wisteria. As the wheels crunched on the gravel halting to a stop, a look of awe was present on all the faces and stayed until the cab had long since left.

Another happy sight was to greet them…the welcome hamper.

Sitting in the garden chairs the weary travellers waited for the rest of their party to arrive as partook of their complimentary champagne. The rest of her family had decided to drive whilst they had taken the train.

Feeling quite cheery August decided she would look around the front garden. Bashful daisies and delicate black bird feathers littered the lawn. It was an odd sight to be sure.

Picking up one of the feathers she held it to the afternoon sun revealing its iridescent nature. She tucked the feather into her pocket hoping she wouldn’t find a crumpled mess later.

The house had narrow hallways with large rooms. Aged wood and pastel-washed walls were the theme throughout. For the first time, August found herself the resident of the room she had been coveting long before their arrival. It was the attic room beautifully crowned with black wooden beams. The crowning glory however was the skylight which acted as a picture frame to the blackened tower which seemed to lean upon the moon.

She had never been big on unpacking and left her suitcase open in the corner – which she would probably get scolded for later. She could hear the rest of her family arrive. The quiet house was now alive excited children, greetings and stories of their travels were happening simultaneously. August wasn’t quite ready to wade into those waters yet, so she strode over to the window taking in the scenery.

She must be tired, she thought as her eyes started to play tricks on her. It looked as if there was something shining within the tower, or rather twinkling reflecting the lunar light. The longer she looked the more certain she felt that her gaze was being returned.