The Chatterbox
“Just look at her! Proper people get up for work in the morning, but not her! Who on earth wears white trousers in this mucky weather?”
“Well, she never walks anywhere. Always in that car of hers! Its the size of a minibus!”
“Count yourself lucky shes got any clothes on at all! Did you see whats on her neck?”
“No, what?”
“A tattoo, thats what! Who does that to themselves? Makes her look like shes been in prison, honestly! Still young, and already covered in ink! What would her mother have said if shed seen it? Poor thingno one to keep her in check. Lost soul, that one
The bench near the entrance buzzed with gossip as the neighbours watched Julia disappear down the street.
What else is there to do, after all, when their shopping bags are resting by their feet and theres no reason to go home, knowing all thats waiting for them inside is the never-ending routine? At least out here, they could catch their breath, because everything at home is just the same… Kids to look after, meals to prepare, tidying up… The little pleasures seem fewer and further between nowadays. Simple people dont get their share of happiness; most of life is just getting by and worryingwhether youll manage to feed the kids and help them if they need it. Maybe treat the grandchildren and get a moments joy just in kissing their soft little heads. Thats where any real happiness is… in the small things… And not everyone has even that. Look at Miss Gregory. Her kids told her not to expect any grandchildrenhaving babies isnt fashionable now. Whats stylish is jetting off on holiday somewhere and living without a care in the world. How on earth do they manage? Maybe theyre a bit like that JuliaNatashas daughter.
Not that long ago, she seemed a normal, decent girl! Ran off to school, did well, polite as you like. And now? Since her mother passed, shes let it all slip. Spends her days wandering about, never working. And shes not studying either! According to Mrs. Evanss daughter, shes got into something altogether unsavourydoing tattoos! Apparently, shes even opened her own parlour! Hardly becoming!
When Julia’s father turned up again a few years ago, everyone thought hed get the girl on the straight and narrow, tell her how life ought to be. But what happened? He bought her that hideous van, taking up half the car park, and left againjust walked out on the poor girl. And shes barely twenty! Who leaves a girl that age all on her own? What if she invites the wrong sort of person home? She could lose her mother’s flat, and that blasted van that keeps everyone awake at night.
Oh look, shes off! Where to? Who knows?! Didnt even bother to look back! Always dolled up in her white trousers, acting like Lady Muck…
Julia neither had time for, nor cared about, her neighbours mutterings. Her own life kept her fully occupied. Today, her schedule was crammed. She wished days could be just a few hours longer! Her mother always said Julia hadnt learnt how to use her time properly.
Julia, time is everything, believe me! Some people flap about and never get anything done, whinge about how tough things are, jealous of those who manage it all. But honestly, the secret of luck is simple. If you can be friends with time, youll get everything donemaybe even more than you think possible.
How do I make friends with time, Mum?
Dont waste it. Value it. Decide what matters most to you, give it the time it deserves. Leave a little time for relaxing and fun. Thats vital tooyou cant just do duties all the time. If you cut out all enjoyment, youll end up miserable.
Why?
Youre human, Jules, not a machine. Wear yourself out, and whats left? Tired, irritable, unhappy. And if you never rest, youll suffer. Never mind all that nonsense about always putting work first! Therell always be chores. You finish one thing, another pops up. But resting and playing all day isnt good eitheryoull get bored, lose your sense of self. So decide how much rest you need, stick to itkeep your life organised. That will make us both happier
Julia remembered her mums advice, even if following it was difficult. She even got herself a diary, but it only helped so much. After all, every task seemed important, and none of it wanted to wait. Like today: three lectures, but shed only get to one. Two clients were booked in, and then she needed to drop by Katies. And where Katie was, there was always Sara, and that was never a quick visit. Then shed need to call at Arthurs to help him pack And she still had to meet the newbies, as they were heading off next week and she didnt even know their names yet. Would she get it all done?
The traffic jam shunted forward a bit, and Julia nudged the accelerator. The van responded instantly, comfortingly, as if to promise, Dont worry, well get there! It seemed almost to console her, as though her father had left it for exactly this purposeto help her save those precious hours.
Julia stroked the steering wheel gently.
Thank you, Dad!
If someone had told her a few years earlier that shed be grateful to her father, Julia would have laughed in their face. Hed been absent for as long as she rememberedhated him, really.
Her mum never spoke harshly of him. Said he was clever, and always told Julia she was just like him.
But how could someone so clever have left his baby girl and disappeared, never once caring, never asking after her?
That thought had festered for years, poisoning her heart.
At nursery, Julia sat in the corner alone while the other little girls danced with their fathers. One didnt turn up for her. It stung so much she couldnt even cry, just watched with dry eyes, refusing to look away.
At school, when bullies picked on her, she bottled the hurt, fighting back and wishing she could shout, “My dad will sort you out!”
When her best friend Anna, discussing university choices, carelessly said, Dad says I can attend any uni I likehell pay, or buy me a car if I get in on my own, Julia realised, even after years of friendship, the closeness was over. It wasnt envyjust a twinge of bitter pain. Anna, of everyone, knew how Julia had longed for a father.
Yet, Julia never felt jealous. She and her mum did fine. Holidays abroad, stylish clothes, a shiny new phone for her sixteenth.
Yet, on her birthday, the phone wasnt the real present. She was still turning the pretty box over in her hands when the one person shed once longed desperately to see stood in her doorway.
Shed kicked up a dreadful fuss then… Shouting, crying, lashing out at her mum, pushing her away: You traitor! Why is he here? I dont want to see him!
How could Julia have known that her mum already had the test results, that this moment would be the last peaceful one before their lives hurtled off a cliff, dragging down the foundations, everything shed thought strong and certain? And then, as if standing in sticky raspberry jellyso loathed in her childhoodshe and her mum would sink further and further into uncertainty and dread.
One day, her mum took her hand and said simply, It was my fault, Julia. The split, the distance. Me. Blame me.
Why? Why take my dad away from me?her mums fingers were cold and hard.
I was hurt
Hurt by what? Mum, please! How can you be hurt enough to take away my dad?
And so her mother told her everything.
How theyd both been so youngand not the wisest. How Julias arrival was unexpected, and both families had heaped blame and disappointment on her parents. Her fathers career derailed to pay the bills, her mothertaking a leave from universitynever quite got back. Their resentment and misgivings built up, and the final straw was that Julia was a girl, not the boy everyone had secretly hoped for. So her mother packed up and left for her aunts, and the father never even knew his daughter was gone for good.
He looked for youwrote, rang. But I told him you werent his.
Mum! Why?
People kept saying it, and I just… let them believe it. Didn’t want you to hear the things they said to me. Children shouldn’t grow up with hate. I tried to protect you, in my own muddled way. I see now that I was wrong.
Julia yanked her hand free, stormed to the window, and thumped the sill, knocking Annas old cactus flying and scattering little crumbs of soil everywherea mess, just like her thoughts. Mess that would take effort to scrub away.
She cleaned it up. Then sat by her mothers bed, dry-eyed, determined: Tell me everything. No more lies. Promise?
I promise
So Julia learned the real story. She ended up with more questions than answers, but realised how strange life isone day you think you know how things are, the next, your world starts to crack. What do you do then? Only you can decide
Julia never worked out if she truly forgave her mother. Maybe she didthough she wasnt sure.
One thing she knew: she was grateful that her mother had told her at last, however painful it was. And she knew, too, that some things would remain unspoken, sealed behind the bedroom door or passed between her mother and father in those last dark weeksher father holding her frail wrist, his quiet tears.
Julia never asked what was said between them. There was no needshe and her father had to learn to live together anyway; he insisted she wouldn’t be left with her aunt.
“Ill leave, if you want. But not until youre eighteen. For now, Ill keep out of your way.”
“No, stayplease! I want you here, Dad.”
Natasha, Julias mother, lived nearly two years after the doctors predicted. It was the hardest, happiest, and most heartbreaking part of Julias lifepainful her time together was so short.
That was when Julia began to draw seriously.
She hadnt done so beforejust doodled in the margins at school. Now she took it seriously.
“Hey, thats good!” Her father had walked in, surprised by her sketchbook.
“Here, look,” he said, pulling off his T-shirt. Julia gaspeda vivid tattoo covered his back, so beautiful it made her scribblings seem childish.
“A mate of mine did it. Want me to introduce you? He can see your work, maybe teach you.
Yes, please!
No one in the neighbourhood noticed when Julia left. She lived nearly a year with her father in London, learning the ropes, then decided to go home.
“I want to go home, Dad…”
Surprisingly, he understood, didnt argue, though he asked her to wait a couple of weeks first. When he returned, he helped her pack, then handed her the keys to his car.
“Hereits yours now. And this.”
He put a folder next to the keys.
“Whats this?”
“Your own studio. I sold my flat to buy this in the city centre. Its small, but I think its plenty for what you need. Les, your mentor, helped sort the equipment. The rest will be delivered soon. Work hard, and finish your studies. Youll need the qualification to go far.”
Julia listened in disbelief as her life fell into place. When everything was ready and shed completed her first commission thereearning praise from the bearded biker next doorJulia still couldnt believe things were working out at last.
Her father stayed long enough to help set up, managed the refurb, and even sorted out advertising, before packing up.
“Where are you going?”
“To see my parents, Julesthey need me just now. But you know Im always with you, right?”
“I know… but Dad! Stay, please.”
“I wish I could, sweetheart, but I have to go
With her father gone, Julia threw herself into work and study, hiring two assistants just to keep pace.
Thats when she met Katie.
A well-dressed but tired-looking woman came in late, as Julia waited for an overdue client.
“Sorry, may I speak to the artist?” she asked.
I am the artist.
“Dont kid me, loveget a grown up, will you?”
Julia studied her properly this timeexpensive clothes but tired face, unpolished hands, an old sadness about her. Julia just handed her a portfolio.
“These are my designs. If you like them, tell me what you want.”
“A name… here…”
Katie rolled up her sleeve, showing her wrist. Her composure finally cracked as she looked away, fighting back tears.
Julia locked the doorher late clients car was just parking up outside.
“Sit down,” she ordered, drawing the blinds. “Itll be all right.”
“Will it hurt? I know.”
All Katie managed next was, “Sara…”
Julia didnt ask questions. She learned about Sara two days later at the hospital, during a visit to her aunt.
“You?”
“Yes. Thank you…”
“Youre welcome. Do you like it?”
“Yes, I do… Sara does too…”
“She…?”
“My daughter.”
Katie suddenly reached to shake Julias hand.
“Katie.”
“Julia.”
“Would you like to meet Sara?”
“Yes, Id love to,” Julia replied without hesitation, unaware that the meeting would change her life.
Little Sara, with her thick glasses and taped-up lens, charmed Julia at once. She grabbed Julias hand and tugged her outside, asking, “Have you got any nuts? Or seeds? Anything for the squirrels?”
“What squirrels?”
“Loads of them out there in the park! Mum says Ive fed so many, theyll fall out of the trees from being so fat!”
“They jump about, so they wont get fat.”
“Really?” Sara eyed her suspiciously, then laughed. “Youre smart!”
“Not really. Im still at school, after all.”
“Ohh, makes sense. Oh, I forgot!”
She shook Julias hand, introducing herself as “Sara Catherine Evans.” Julia responded, and their laughter rang out through the pines.
Next time, Julia arrived with pockets full of nuts.
Katie didnt tell Julia much about Saras illness right away; their developing trust was as fragile as ice at the edge of spring. They spoke, cautiously, in a café near Julias studio.
“Is there much that can be done?”
“Yes. Its not hopelessnot anymore. When I saw you that first night, Id just been told there was no hope. Then a new consultant arrivedArthur Davieshe said, not yet…”
“Then why cry, Katie? Isnt that good news?”
“Yesterday Sara had surgery. Shes in intensive care… They ordered me away till tomorrow. Julia, Im so scared, more than ever…”
“Youre on your own? What about Saras dad?”
“He left before she was born. Im no saint, Julia. I chose a father for her, someone I thought would make a good parent… I didnt love him, and he knew. So hes not in our lives… You understand?”
“Not exactly, but it doesnt matter. Whats passed is passed. You have Sara.”
“Yes, I have…”
“Dont you dare give up! Look at your wrist. I made that as visible as possible so youd rememberher names not just a memory, its a fight! You hear me?”
“Dont shout, please I hear you…”
“Then quit complaining! Pull yourself together!”
Katie sobbed and Julia just sat with her, understanding this was a pivotal moment.
“Some water, please,” she asked a hovering waitress.
They spent that night at Julias studio, talking, crying, eventually laughing. The next morning, Julia drove Katie to the hospital.
“Ill come with you.”
“Do you have time?”
“Dont be daft! Here, use my combyou look scary, and might frighten your child!”
Things worked out for Sara. Arthurs hands worked a miracle.
“When can I see the squirrels again?” Sara grumbled from her bed.
“Soon, poppet! When youre discharged, well go to London with Juliathere are loads of squirrels there!”
“Why?”
“To continue your treatment. You had the surgery, but theres more to be doneArthur’s friend Les has arranged everything in London.”
“Reha…what? Never mind! Ill ask Julia!”
Sara only cared about the journeyanywhere, in Julias big van, was better than that bleak hospital.
“Mum!”
“Yes, love?”
“Is Arthur coming with us?”
“No, darling. Hes so busy. And you mustnt call grown-ups by their first names!”
“But I can!”
“Whys that?”
“Because he loves my Julia!” Sara giggled, as Katie gaped.
“Cheeky thing! What makes you think that?!”
“Isnt it obvious? Oh, Mumhonestly!”
Anyone could see Arthurs feelings for Julia, though both denied it, chatting politely about the weather or Saras improvements, and then parting, never daring to take the first step.
After sending Katie and Sara off to London, Julia realised she could help other children too. Les supported the idea wholeheartedly, and soon Arthur was seeing other young patients offeach time, led to Julias van and greeted by the same tattooed, gentle girl.
“Ready? Mum comfy? Off we go!”
Most preferred travelling with Julia to taking the train. Her van was kitted out for every needwipes, snacks, a big tablet loaded with cartoons.
Arthur, speechless with admiration, never found the courage to tell Julia his feelings. And she kept her own hidden too. The first move was never made.
Who knows if it would ever have happened, if not for Sara? Back after her treatment, she convinced her mum to visit hospital again.
“Why, Sara?”
“Ive got to tell Arthur something.”
“What?!”
“Mum, you just dont get it. Im telling him!”
Arthur, taking her seriously, agreed to the chat.
“Why dont you tell her?”
“Tell who what, Sara?”
“Julia! That you like her.
Its complicated”
“Whats complicated? Grown-ups are so strange. She likes you too!”
I’ve noticed.
“Then why the silence?”
“Well, Sara, its Ive got nothing to offer. No home of my own, I rent a room nearby. Julia shes got everything sorted, andhave you seen her van?
So what?
So I should have something to offer her.
Isnt love enough? Sara stared at him. Not enough, huh?
Sometimes it isnt
Sara had heard enough. She tugged Arthurs coat, whispered something that made him laugh and shake his finger at her.
Naughty! Off you go now.
Grabbing her mum, Sara called, Back to Julias!
Where to?
Shell be glad, trust me!
Katie laughed and called a taxi.
Sara had words with Julia too, with an effect that wasnt long in coming.
One evening, as Julia was closing the studio, she was full of resolve. If a little girl had seen what she herself tried to hide… perhaps it really was time to stop wasting her life.
She didnt spot Arthur straight away in the dusktall, awkward, so familiar.
“Hi, he said richly, and Julias heart sang.
A few months later, the neighbourhood bench was buzzing all over again.
“Shes got a bloke! Who is he? Nobody knows. Brought her stuff round but no ones heard of him! You know what young girls are likeone wrong turn and shell lose the lot!”
“He seems all right.”
“Oh, Mrs. Gregorywhat would you know? Yours looked decent, too, and just look at them now!
Someone ought to ring Julias dad! Hell sort it out!
Hes about already!
Youre kiddingwhen did he get here?
Just last week. Im telling you, somethings happening!”
“And what?”
“Wait and see!”
And see they did.
They saw Julia at last, decked out in a breathtaking white wedding dressher tattoo on full show, drawing an admiring gasp, even from the with-it Mrs. Gregory.
They saw Arthur, leading his shy bride, winking surreptitiously at a grinning Sara, whod sold Julia to Arthur for a tenner and beamed with pride.
They saw Katie, sobbing tears of happiness, fussing endlessly with Julias veil and fending off questions.
“Let me cry, will you? Its from happiness, this time!”
And the odd strangers who crowded round with flowers, hugging Julia as if she were their own.
No one ever quite worked out who they were.
Nor did anyone understand why Julia, before climbing into the car, gathered up her dress and slipped off her high heels, demanding her trainers”You cant drive in wedding shoes!”as Arthur knelt to tie her laces, Katie appearing with the trainers from the boot.
“Never seen anything like it!” complained the bench-dwellers, watching them drive away.
“Shes such a chatterbox!”
“Exactly! A chatterbox, through and through!”
And so Julias story came full circle, not as others expectedbut exactly as she made it. Because happiness isnt about following the script; its about finding joy in your own way, and never letting gossip stop you from living the life thats right for you.
