Magnolias By The Sea
AN UPLIFTING SHORT STORY WRITTEN BY BETH MCKAY
Like mother like daughter, they’d survive whatever life brings
Ellen always enjoyed her first glimpse of the sea. Her car nosed down the steep lanes to emerge on the woody fringe of the shoreline. On a crisp spring morning like today, the contrast of trees with blue water was startling.
Ellen parked rather covertly, in one of the last spaces on the road. Winter storms had covered the yellow line with sand, leaving it invisible enough to ignore.
She slid her feet into stout walking boots and started to climb the hill.
It was her brother Tim’s idea to meet their mother for an outing at the National Trust house above the estuary.
Since his retirement two years ago, Tim had moved south to live in the same village as their mother. He had taken over the role of primary carer, which Ellen had relinquished gratefully when a new career opportunity arose for her in the city.
She still felt pangs of guilt about leaving her mother behind and being so busy these days. It meant she was quick to comply when Tim’s emails reminded her gently that she had not been down to visit for a while.
Rosemary was sitting with her son on the terrace when Ellen arrived. She looked as elegant as ever, in her dark winter coat and scarf. Her grey hair had been cut recently into a new bob, which suited her well, Ellen decided.
“No need to get up, Mum,” Ellen assured Rosemary. She smiled as she bent over to peck her mother on the cheek, inhaling her familiar floral scent. Lily of the Valley would always remind her of her childhood.
“So glad you could make it, dear.” Rosemary’s greeting was warm with no hint of annoyance that Ellen was late. Tim contented himself with a glance at his watch, but his voice and embrace were friendly. Usually, they rubbed along well as brother and sister.
“Shall we have lunch indoors?” Ellen proposed as the chill sea breeze ruffled her hair. She could not help shivering despite the sunshine. A few ducks scattered out of their way as Ellen helped her mother up.
“I think they’re disappointed to miss the crumbs,” Tim joked.
He led them inside the building to a table by the fireplace. Soon they were engrossed in conversation over cheese scones and tea. Ellen’s mother clapped with delight when she told her about her latest promotion. Tim gave Ellen a hug of congratulation.
“I’m so proud of you!” he declared.
Good job one of us is still making a go of it in the city. I don’t miss all that commuting, I can tell you!
His words meant a lot to Ellen. There were so many pressures these days for a woman to juggle her family and professional lives. Often, it seemed an unattainable goal. Something had to give to make it work.
“Lunch is my treat,” Ellen insisted, ignoring her brother’s protests. “It’s my celebration after all.”
Later, the three of them made their way into the gardens. Rosemary looked frailer than Ellen remembered as she moved cautiously along the gravel paths. She was leaning firmly on Tim’s arm, still determined to explore.
“Let’s go and find the magnolias then,” Ellen suggested. The guide on the door had mentioned that both the famous trees were in bloom: the very first sign of spring in the gardens.
“The mother tree is well over a hundred years old,” Ellen explained. “The guide claimed it even survived the great storm that brought down so many of its branches in 1999. Somehow it managed new growth after its collapse. There’s a daughter tree too, planted from one of the original seeds.”
Tim turned the corner into the walled garden and Rosemary was the first to give a gasp of pleasure.
The ancient branches were bursting with waxy pink blooms, gleaming like huge cups and saucers against the vibrant blues of sea and sky. It took Ellen’s breath away. The buds of the younger tree were just starting to open too, a hint of more magnificence to come. Its branches stretched out confidently along the mossy grey walls. Ellen reached for her mother’s gloved hand and the pair of them admired the trees together.
“Like mother, like daughter,” Tim teased.
Both tough enough to survive whatever life throws at them!
Rosemary and Ellen smiled at the compliment. They posed beneath the magnolias as Tim raised his mobile to capture the moment.
You have to find time to make new memories, Ellen reflected ruefully. Her mother was ninety-two after all, almost a century old, like the tree.
“Let me take a picture of you together as well,” Ellen suggested, grabbing Tim’s phone before he could object. As she clicked away, she felt a surge of new energy. She would be back to visit soon, however much juggling it took. Spring, the eternal optimist, was working its magic.
Enjoy these uplifting short stories now:
Allison Hay
I joined the "My Weekly" team thirteen years ago and, more recently, "The People's Friend". I love the variety of topics we cover both online and in the magazines. I manage the digital content for the brands, sharing features and information on the website, social media and in our digital newsletters.
