A KIND OF KEW

Eleanor always went to Kew on wet days when there were fewer tourists and enjoyed the damp, misty atmosphere almost exclusively to herself so she might even imagine she owned the place. She'd become well adept at choosing the perfect time of imperfect weather to go to the city's most treasured locations so she could enjoy a certain degree of privacy. Being an introvert she didn't like to be in crowded spaces indoors or outdoors and so adapting the city to suit her pathological needs was wholly appropriate she felt.

Besides, since the pandemic, the city had become increasingly impossible to enjoy with increasing strain on the costs of daily living for anyone who wasn't part of the rich and uber-rich set. Being a freelance illustrator had had its perks at times but those perks hadn't been a feature of Eleanor's life much lately suffering a considerable drop off in her client list after many of them chose to leave London to move to the country during Covid. The irony was she'd discussed similar plans of evacuation with her then-boyfriend at the time but it quickly led to exposing their very different ideas about their shared future and finally ended up finishing off the relationship. Rufus had told Eleanor that he wanted to remain in the city when she had expressed a strong desire to leave.  Later, to add insult to injury Rufus went against his argued position and moved to the country with another woman leaving Eleanor stuck in a no man's land in London all by herself save for a few friends dotted in far-off travel zones that seemed to get further away with each new TFL strike, a social archipelago of human islands that had become increasingly fragmented.

Standing in the Palm House at Kew, Eleanor felt a sudden pronounced sense of loneliness overwhelm her but rather than retreat from the sad feeling she doubled down on it playing her favorite piece of Saint Saens through her AirPods. Then, placing her hand on her heart, she checked to see if it was still beating for fear she might have become too ghostly of late. Thankfully it was and as she began to let go of broken dreams and embrace the present moment while the rain poured down all around, hitting the glass ceiling of the giant conservatory like thousands of tiny drums she imagined the most handsome of men standing in front of her, a vision of her romantic future though he still bore some vague resemblance to Rufus which bothered her in some small way.  

It was at that exact same moment Eleanor felt a slight tug on the sleeve of her coat and looked down at a small child who was crying silently with his cherubic face reddened by streaming tears.

"What's the matter little one? Have you lost your mummy and daddy?"

Nodding, Eleanor took the child's soft hand in hers and went off in search of the missing parents who she couldn't imagine were very far away.

"Don't worry, we'll find them soon enough."

And sure enough, after Eleanor and the boy had headed further back inside the central part of the conservatory, they emerged from behind the ancient cycads calling out for their son.

"Rufus! There you are!"  

Grateful that Eleanor had returned their child to them, she waved off their plaudits.

"I think maybe he thought I was lost, to be honest."

They laughed at the young woman's self-deprecating deflection as Eleanor made her way back out of the Palm House and into the sun-warmed rain shower that felt like a new dawn.

Of course, she hadn't ignored the obvious detail of the small child sharing the same name as her ex-boyfriend in many ways it amused her that such a symbolic coincidence had arrived in such a heightened moment of future visualisation. What did it mean exactly? Eleanor had a book for decoding dreams by her bed that she occasionally flicked through with blurry, sleep-encrusted eyes.  The meaning in this instance was far more obvious than requiring any book to help her decipher its significance. And above all else, what really mattered was that the Universe had reached out to her in a vulnerable moment and shown her a sign that she could be strong even when feeling weak and alone in the city.

Enjoying the warm rain increasingly soaking her skin through her coat and summer clothes beneath, Eleanor went off in search of her future which now seemed considerably brighter than when she first arrived at the gardens.

It had been in miniature a type of personal transfiguration and that in itself surely deserved a coffee.

And maybe even a slice of cake.