request another temp and she would be down a month’s steady income.
That couldn’t happen, she thought as she looked around her at the crowd building in anticipation of the arrival of the next early morning bus. Was she the only one who had slept in and was at risk of eviction if the bus was late? Was she the only person whose life had been tipped upside down and had still not righted itself, despite how hard and how long she tried to get herself back on track? Was she the only one who couldn’t afford to hail a cab even if she could get one to stop, which she doubted as they would all be taken on a day like this?
The cold breeze gained intensity, cutting through Molly’s coat. She pulled her arms closer to her body and tried to stop the shivers taking over. Chilled to her core, and waiting in line for a bus that she prayed would arrive in time, she looked around at the others also huddled around the bus shelter. There were schoolchildren of various ages and heights in different uniforms but all with raincoats and backpacks; office workers with briefcases; a construction worker in his high-vis vest, carrying his metal lunch box and hard hat; and an elderly couple holding gloved hands, their faces a little contorted by the frosty elements but no doubt, Molly thought, warmed by each other’s company. She had no such comfort or company.
Within a few minutes, and with no warning, the ominous grey clouds that were threatening a downpour opened their floodgates. Hurriedly Molly reached back for her hood but there wasn’t one. Both of her black winter overcoats were on the hall stand and naturally, in keeping with the tone of the morning, she had chosen the coat without a hood. There was no room as her fellow travellers rushed for the already oversubscribed shelter and moments later it became obvious her umbrella was not in her oversized handbag.
It couldn’t get worse, Molly decided. She would arrive resembling a drowned rat and more than likely late for a much-needed new job. She allowed herself a few seconds to once again indulge in the state of her life, which at that moment was quite dreadful. Then she took a deep breath and settled her thoughts. Until she looked down at her rain-splattered feet and almost laughed out loud.
‘Really? Who does that?’ she mumbled. With the noise of the heavy traffic rushing by on the wet roads no one could have heard her mutterings but Molly no longer cared if they had. It didn’t bother her if the world thought she was mad because at that moment she felt awfully close to it anyway. In her fluster and the darkness of her tiny bedroom, she had slipped into odd ballet flats. One navy and the other black. The black one had a small velvet bow and Molly felt quite certain that unless her work colleagues were short-sighted they would notice. It would be an embarrassing beginning. Then something deep inside reminded her that it was the beginning of something new. A new start, she thought. A rebooting of her life, she told herself as the rain trickled down her temples and inside the collar of her coat.
With that thought, her soggy chin raised a little. It was the beginning of Molly Murphy’s new life. The old debts were finally paid in full. It had taken her eleven months to repay everything. The man who had destroyed her credit rating and almost destroyed her life was gone. And she had a new job. The new, resolute Molly was ready to build a new life...but one without a man. She might have a terrible address at that moment and no long-term, well-paid career prospects, but she had done the best she could.
Hindsight would have seen her make very different financial decisions. But hindsight was like that. It was wise and sensible. And she had been neither when she’d met the man she’d thought would be her happily ever after. She had rushed in and believed every word he had whispered in her ear. Hung on every promise he’d made in the warmth of the bed they’d shared. Trusted every dream he’d told her as she’d smiled at her beautiful diamond engagement ring. She’d thought her life was turning around after the sadness of losing her parents. She’d believed she had found the one. The man who would make her dreams come true. The one who would make her life whole again.
But all of it was a lie. A well-planned, brilliantly executed lie.
And one she had willingly and naively bought into and lost almost everything she had in the process. But fortunately, not everything. She still had her most treasured, shining ace.
She had Tommy.
Looking up into the falling raindrops, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. And so, she did neither. Instead she let the water run over her face, waking her up completely, while her icy fingers felt around in the bottom of her bag for her makeshift breakfast. She unwrapped it and unceremoniously wolfed it down in three bites. At least the pain in her head was subsiding and while she was quite powerless to change much about the morning, she could at least prevent her stomach growling with hunger. The very first day of winter was testing her mettle but she would get through it. She had Tommy and together they could face whatever life threw at them. They had already proven that.
Suddenly the thought of her younger brother warmed her heart and went a little way to quelling her rising anxiety. He more than made up for the wreck the other parts of her life had become. And on the days when she felt herself spinning a little close to the edge, knowing they had each other kept her grounded.
And that day would be no different.
Whatever the world threw at her, she would face it head-on.
She had to do that for Tommy.
‘YOU’RE PRETTY.’
Molly lifted her bright blue eyes from the keyboard at the reception desk that had been officially hers for four hours. Her lips instinctively curved upwards to form something close to a smile at the unexpected compliment. It was the last thing she’d expected to hear. Pretty was nowhere close to how she felt. In her mind, bedraggled would have been a more accurate call but she was trying not to think about her appearance and just get on with the job at hand. She was warm and dry and that was an improvement on the start of her day. Grooming had not been a priority that morning but hearing the young woman’s compliment definitely lifted her spirits.
‘Thank you. I think you’re very kind to say something so sweet,’ Molly told the young woman who had fronted the desk. ‘I think you’re very pretty and I love your red boots.’
The young woman, just like Molly’s brother, Tommy, had been born with Down’s syndrome and just like Tommy, she appeared to be relatively independent, by virtue of her attending the surgery without a caregiver by her side. Molly noticed she was wearing designer jeans and a red jumper under her checked woollen overcoat that also looked as if it had been bought at a high-end store. Her short blonde hair was in a bob style and the flat red ankle boots completed the outfit. She was quite the young fashionista.
‘Thank you. Red is my favourite colour in the world.’
‘I must agree. Red is lovely,’ Molly told her, then continued. ‘May I have your name, please?’
‘Lizzy Jones,’ the young woman said. ‘My boyfriend likes red. He didn’t like red before he was my boyfriend. Now he likes red.’
Molly smiled at the thought of the young man changing his favourite colour to match his girlfriend’s taste. Young love was so sweet and naive and something to be treasured as it rarely stayed that perfect. When the rose-coloured glasses came off the real man was rarely as perfect as he once seemed. She hoped for Lizzy’s sake her boyfriend remained as lovely as he was at that moment.
‘Do you have a boyfriend?’ Lizzy asked, breaking Molly’s train of thought.
‘Um...no, no, I don’t.’
‘You should have a boyfriend. It’s nice. You can share lunch and hold hands.’
‘I will give it some thought,’ Molly said politely, all the while thinking quite the opposite. Boyfriends, fiancés, they were all the same. They brought heartbreak and disappointment and she was not going back there. Not ever.
‘My dad doesn’t know I have a boyfriend.’ Lizzy giggled then covered her mouth with her hand. ‘I will tell him maybe next week or maybe at Christmas.’