All That She Can See(9)



Mrs Overfield’s Worry, while not as visible as it once was, still remained. Cherry soon realised though that Mrs Overfield was carrying plenty of emotional baggage that she could tailor her baking to in order to get rid of Worry once and for all. When Mrs O complained how she never felt brave enough to call the television company when her signal cut out, Cherry whipped up some Confidence Crème Caramel. When Mrs O’s cat died, Cherry made a batch of Comfort Cookies. And when Mrs O applied for a new job as a part-time cleaner and worried they would never take her on because of her tender age of sixty-four, Cherry baked her a Que Sera Cake. Once she started eating Cherry’s baking, Mrs O was never out of balance for long again.

It took Cherry a year of baking and spending time with Mrs O to feel ready to leave the house for more than a few minutes at a time. Up until then, she’d relied on Mrs O to get her groceries but Cherry knew it was time to re-enter the world. She lived in a small English village by the sea so her world was small – but for someone who hadn’t left her house very much in the past year, it felt huge. Loneliness had never been far away during that time and in a funny way had been quite a close friend to Cherry but love from Loneliness isn’t really love at all and Cherry knew it was time to start life afresh.

‘You can do this,’ Mrs O said to Cherry.

Cherry was stood in the doorway to her house. She tilted her head back towards the sky and the sun gently smiled down on her face. ‘I don’t think I can,’ she replied.

‘I don’t think you should,’ Loneliness said, reaching out a shadowy hand as Cherry took a tentative step forwards, but the sun singed its knuckles slightly and it pulled it back in shock.

The light was trying to claim Cherry as its own.

‘OK. OK. OK,’ Cherry said between shaky breaths. Having recovered itself, Loneliness followed, squinting against the painful light.

‘I’m right here, Cherry,’ Mrs O said. ‘And I can’t walk very fast anyway so the only way to take this is slowly.’ They walked arm-in-arm towards the village. Towards people, Cherry thought.

They were approaching the high street, and suddenly Cherry had to pause. She could see the townsfolk milling about in the distance but, also, there were Meddlums everywhere. Each person had at least two or three and all of them looked happy and hungry – and stronger than her. The thought of attempting to rid just one of these people of their bad feeling, let alone the whole town, suddenly seemed impossible and Cherry doubled over, her head cloudy.

‘Cherry?’ Mrs O said in concern. ‘Is everything all right?’

Cherry thought about how she’d felt useless her whole life. She’d felt useless when Peter was taken away, she’d felt useless when Lucas had left, and she’d felt useless when her father had died. And then Cherry thought of her own Meddlum and how much she wished someone would burn it off her like a wart, would help free her from its clutches. A feeling of purpose spread through her, then. She refused to be useless any longer.

‘Yes.’ Cherry straightened up and brushed down her skirt. ‘Everything’s fine. Let’s go.’ And she pulled Mrs O towards the sea of Meddlums.

The village was so small that everyone knew everyone, and no one’s business was their own. The things that were considered a scandal here would easily be overlooked in a larger city. If Cherry had lived somewhere bigger, chances are no one would have noticed she hadn’t been seen in a year but here, she was a household name because of it. What a shame, people would mutter as they walked past her father’s house, looking up at the windows, imagining Cherry curled up in a ball, riddled with grief. Cherry had lost count of the number of times Pity had rung the doorbell and ran away. Cherry’s knuckles grew whiter as she gripped Mrs O’s arm tighter. It wasn’t being among people and feeling their stares that she couldn’t stand. It was all of the Meddlums.

Mrs Brewer’s Anxiety and Boredom had their limbs tangled, feet in faces, hands in hair, wildly trying to untie themselves. Mr Datta’s three Meddlums were a mess – Insecurity kept treading on Arrogance’s toes and apologising, while Greed watched on, rubbing its hands together so hard its palms were almost worn away. Miss Kightley’s Meddlum was directly behind her, its forehead against the small of her back and its long fingers prodding, poking and pushing her forwards. Impatience didn’t like it when she slowed down.

Cherry was sure the town hadn’t been this unhappy before her father had died. She couldn’t understand how all these people had all these bad feelings and yet were doing nothing to help themselves. Cherry tried to slow her breathing but her brain was ticking too fast. She moved to a nearby bench, pulling Mrs O along, and sat down heavily. She delved into her bag and pulled out the scrunched-up notepad that contained her shopping list. She flipped to a fresh page and began jotting down each Meddlum and its owner.

Mrs O noticed the slightly crazed look in Cherry’s eyes. She clutched the cross around her neck and sent up a silent prayer for her friend. She laid a comforting palm on Cherry’s shoulder. ‘Cherry, people are starting to notice you’re out and about again.’ Mrs O kept her voice as cheerful as she could. ‘Let’s carry on as normal, shall we?’ Mrs Overfield wanted so much to help her but she feared Cherry might need professional help. She couldn’t deny, though, that Cherry was an entirely different person to the flour-covered one she’d discovered a year ago. Even so, Cherry had a long way to go before she was back to what society considered ‘normal’.

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