Where the Road Bends

Chapter 10

Cecilia Jones, perched on a stool in her floral nightgown, hummed along to the kettle's cheerful whistle as she stirred honey into her chamomile tea. A sharp rap at the door startled her, the sound echoing through the quiet house. It was well past eleven, a tad late for social calls, and Cecilia, a creature of habit, was already tucked into her favourite armchair with a well-worn Agatha Christie novel. Living alone for the past five years had its perks: mismatched socks, questionable culinary creations for one, and nary a fight over the thermostat.

Richard, her dear Richard, had been swept away by a sudden stroke a few years back. He was a good man, a hopeless romantic who'd leave her little posies on the kitchen counter, their vibrant colours a stark contrast to the morning paper. Theirs had been a quiet, comfortable love, a shared cup of tea and a crossword puzzle in the evenings. Grief, a suffocating shroud, had enveloped her when he left. Days blurred into weeks, weeks into months, filled with a relentless ache in her chest. But one morning, a curious thing happened. Waking with a sliver of sunlight gracing her eyelids, Cecilia felt a strange sense of calm. It wasn't a forgetting, not a diminishing of her love for Richard, but an acceptance, a gratitude for the life they'd shared. It was as if he'd whispered, "Live, my love," in the quiet of her heart.

A choked sob escaped Julia's lips as she stumbled through the door. Her face, a roadmap of tear tracks, sent a jolt of concern through Cecilia.

"Mummy?" Julia mumbled, her voice thick with the dregs of a good cry.

Cecilia, never one to miss a beat, swept her daughter into a hug that could rival a grizzly bear. "There, there, chick," she soothed, ushering Julia towards the sofa. "First things first, a stonking cup of tea. Strong enough to wake the dead, that's what you need."

As the kettle whistled merrily, Cecilia settled Julia onto the sofa, a soft landing pad nestled in her lap. The steam from the teacups danced a silent waltz in the air before Cecilia placed one gently in Julia's hands.

"Right then," Cecilia began, her voice like a warm summer breeze, "What's got you looking like a drowned kitten?"

Julia took a shaky sip of tea, the warmth doing little to dispel the cold knot in her stomach. "My life feels like a right mess, Mum," she confessed, her voice wobbling. "Danny... well, he popped the question."

Cecilia's brow furrowed slightly. "Well, that's wonderful news, isn't it?"

"I couldn't say yes. Not like this. It didn't feel...right. Now I can't help but think I've been a complete muppet and wasted his time."

Cecilia reached out, her touch a silent reassurance. "Julia, sweetheart," she began, her voice laced with concern, "did you have a proper chat with Danny? Did you tell him why you couldn't just jump on the marriage bandwagon?"

Julia sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "Danny... well, Danny doesn't understand. I think..." she hesitated, searching for the right words. "I think we're done, actually."

A flicker of surprise crossed Cecilia's face, quickly replaced by understanding. "Sweetheart," she said gently, "if walking down the aisle with Danny doesn't make your heart do a little jig, then it's bloody well okay to walk away. You're twenty-four, for crying out loud! Now's the time to be a bit selfish, a bit spontaneous. You haven't wasted his time, you've learned and I'm sure he has too. And let me tell you, it takes guts to look at your life and decide you want more, something different, and actually go for it."

Julia considered her mother's words. Maybe selfish wasn't the right word. Maybe it was self-preservation. A realisation dawned on her. All this time, she'd been so focused on not hurting Danny that she'd neglected to consider her own happiness.