April A-Z
blogging challenge 2012
Z is the ultimate letter in this sequence of 26 short stories
of 250 words or fewer. This final story is just a little longer – 385 words. All
the stories are about the life and times of a fictional character called Alice.
Alice shepherded everyone into the sitting room. It was a
tight squeeze but everyone found a seat. The granddaughters sat on the floor
while their babies and toddlers played around them.
The last time the whole family had gathered was for Norman’s
funeral three years previously. Alice’s 85th birthday made a good excuse
to meet under happier circumstances. Emily and her family had travelled from
Paris the previous day. Alice didn’t see them very often though she did
occasionally travel by Eurostar to visit them. Rebecca’s children lived in and
around London and she saw them more
frequently, though they were very busy – no-one could live in London and not be
busy, she thought. It was Ted’s family she saw most – they all lived nearby –
and of course, Ruth was a regular visitor.
While Alice played with her great-grandchildren her daughters organised
tea. Afterwards she unwrapped a mound of gaily-wrapped gifts and was touched by
the thought that had gone into them – National Trust membership, a subscription
to a favourite magazine, gardening and book tokens, a large print of one of her
favourite photographs, a voucher for a spa day. Then Rebecca’s husband gave her
a DVD and urged her to play it for all of them. He had compiled it from family
photographs and video recordings and set it to music.
Alice’s life unfolded before her. Monochrome gave way to
colour and she thought that was a fine allegory for life. There were her
parents and her three strong brothers. What fine young men they had been. Here
was Norman, smiling into the camera, looking ridiculously young and so proud on
their wedding day. She watched her babies grow into toddlers and then into young
adults with babies of their own. The final photograph was of all her children,
grandchildren and great-grandchildren, including the youngest, four-month-old
Rosie.
Everyone clapped and cheered and Ted produced a bottle of
champagne with a reassurance that there were another two in the fridge so there
would be plenty for everybody. They drank Alice’s health and commended her zest
for life. She nodded and smiled, quite overcome.
Later, after everyone had left, Alice watched her DVD again, pausing
it now and then to study an image more closely. ‘What a wonderful gift,’ she
thought. ‘Photographs hold the greatest memories.’