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Listeners' Fantasies |
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Just Visiting
by Vicky S
 Another little gem from the Fantasy Archers topic of .
The younger women pushed past her in their hurry to get to the bus that would take them back into town. Some had very hard faces she thought, and looked, well, "cheap" was the politest word to use, with their short skirts, bare legs and unsuitable shoes. In January for goodness' sake! Several of them had young children with them, crying and fractious from the waiting, and with not understanding where they were and what was happening.
But sadly few of the women seemed prepared for their visits. She had noticed that none had brought toys, or books to read to the children while waiting, or even to have thought to bring say a little egg sandwich, nicely wrapped in greaseproof paper, or a bottle of diluted squash or barley water. Instead they had let their children literally run amok in the waiting area, and had given in immediately to demands for sugary snacks and venomous looking drinks from the vending machines (and all without a notion of please or thankyou!) Even when in the visitors' room they had allowed their children to race around, disturbing other people and making it hard to hear what was being said.
Some people - she had said it before, and would no doubt say it again - some people just shouldn't be allowed to have children. Not if they weren't going to bring them up properly. Children were a gift, and should be treated as such. Bringing them up properly, to take their place in society, was not the easiest job. And these days so few seemed to get it even half right. It was important to teach them right from wrong from the start, to teach them respect, to teach them manners, to make them into the sort of adult a real mother could be proud of.
And every step of the way you were undermined, your values cheapened. Young girls walking around on the street showing everything they had; not knowing where to look when in the newsagent's; private things that should be between husband and wife in the privacy of their bedroom, practically going on in the street in front of you. Foul language and filth on the television so you didn't dare to switch it on in mixed company. It was very difficult to maintain your own standards.
And dishonesty everywhere. Even people who you would have thought knew better turned out to be no better than riff raff. Leading people on, changing their minds about things every other second, confusing people, telling downright lies with the intention of getting someone into trouble. How was anyone who had been brought up nicely be expected to protect themselves against such duplicity and prove their innocence?
She felt her heart race at the unfairness of it all. There was a bench by the bus stop so she sat down for a minute to compose herself and take one of her tablets before starting the journey home. There was no rush. There were almost two hours before she could catch the next train. She would have a look round the shops then have a strong cup of tea at the station and a read of her library book. And with any luck, if all the connections worked, she should be back in Gloucester just before seven.
[If you can't quite see the connection - or indeed the point of the story - you might have missed the fact the Taylor/Owen's mother lives ... yes, in Gloucester.]
More
Archers fantasies
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