Here for you

“We’re here for one of the kittens?”

We were invited in. But from the litter of three, a cat had already been taken. How could we choose one and leave the other behind?

Payment was discussed and the plastic carrier was opened. Two such tiny things!

Come on, girls: let’s take you home.

*

It’s a very good relative who doesn’t baulk at getting a “pick me up?”-phone call at midnight.

The friend I’d assumed would see me home was currently on his way to the home of another young lady. I couldn’t blame him.

“I’m at Kings Cross Station,” I said sheepishly. Bedtime cocoa had already been made.

“We’re on our way,” laughed my aunt.

*

I remember the movie was Chocolat.

Some younger church girls had joined our ladies group and they giggled uproariously at the sexy bits.

I’d cycled, but could hear the rain pelting the window. I would get soaked.

The doorbell rang just as Johnny Depp was winding up all of his smouldering.

“I’m here for Suse,” I heard the voice of my now-husband say, from under a giant umbrella.

How incredibly thoughtful. My bike would wait.

*

“If you can see your mum or dad, you can go to them,” hollered the Brownie leader, “If not, stay sitting down.”

I watched her serious little face searching the crowd of parents.

“I’m here,” I thought, willing her to spot me. “I’ll always be here for you.”

*

“I miss you, God,” I prayed into the nothingness after what I called my ‘year out’ of Christianity. Turns out, it’s quite hard to convince yourself that you no longer believe what you believe.

I sensed a smile, a turning, swift feet and an enveloping embrace.

“I was here,” came the whisper, “I’ve always been here for you.”