A Leisurely Walk Is A Luxury [2/?] | Saving Mr Banks.
Never in her short life had Jane ever been so excited. Walking down the crisped leaf covered street, Ralph effortlessly pushed her wheelchair in front of him while Pamela stood at her side, walking in step with the contraption that allowed Jane to see at least a little of the adventurous world around her. Glancing between her father and the mysterious writer beside her, the child couldn’t contain her constant beaming smile. Her father had spoken of her often, and his eyes had always seemed to brighten up at the very mention of her name. “Pamela” She began, causing the woman to look down at her affectionately. Pamela would be the first to admit that she wasn’t the biggest fan of children - they were sticky, loud and obnoxious - but Jane struck her as a different sort of child; who reminded her of herself at that age. “I’ve started writing” Jane confided in the woman, having little faith in her own writing - after all, she was only a child, and Pamela was the woman responsible for creating her beloved ‘Mary Poppins’. “I would love the chance to read them sometime” Pamela coaxed the child, coming to rest her slender hand on the girl’s thin shoulder. It was as though all of Jane’s Christmases had come at once. If the child could have, she would have jumped out of her chair and embraced the woman in a bone wrenching hug. “Thank you” Jane crooned, overcome with emotion. Ralph remained silent throughout the exchange, finding himself smiling just a little more than usual at the conversation, his burley shoulders relaxing as he came to the conclusion that everything would work out fine - it had too.
“The sun came out today” Ralph cooed, looking directly at Pamela as he spoke, his steps slowing down somewhat - to an even more leisurely pace - as the woman came to walk in time with himself and not the wheelchair. “Now you’re going to tell me that it has something to do with me” Pamela foretold, remembering how he had announced that during her last visit. She wouldn’t admit that she had thought of him every time the sun had made an appearance. “He’s right, the sun hasn’t shone in weeks - it’s been raining mostly” Jane contributed, her usually soft spoken voice became tremulous as she spoke. Pamela remembered what Ralph had told her once; when it rained, he would have to leave Jane in the empty house by herself, whereas when it was bright and the sun shone like a blazing fire, he could leave Jane in the porch to watch the world go by. “I think you brought the sun out again” She concluded, turning her head to face the two adults behind her. Pamela looked out of the corner of her almond toned eyes at the man beside her before glancing down at the stone grey footpath. Ralph could have sworn that he saw a faint pink blush come to her cheeks - not that he was going to tell her that of course.
It was only whenever Jane took the tartan fleece from her lap and wrapped it around her shivering shoulders, that Ralph decided to turn the wheelchair around and head in the direction of home once more. Without drawing much attention to herself, Pamela took the child’s shaking, shivering and unsteady hand in her own. Jane’s was almost as pale as her own - only a shade darker than the first snow of winter - though her very bones seemed more fragile than her own. Subconsciously, Pamela found herself running her thumb across the girl’s knuckles in a bid to keep at least her hand warm if nothing else. Silence filled the air around the trio, but it was a comfortable silence, each of them lost in their own deep thoughts. Returning to the suburban home, Pamela headed up the ramp ahead of Ralph and Jane, moving to hold the heavy timber door open for the pair. “Can you teach daddy how to make proper tea?” It was Jane who broke the comfortable but familiar silence, with her innocent voice echoing through the once silent room. Pamela chuckled slightly at the request, remembering the day that Ralph had committed the biggest act of blasphemy known to man - serving tea in a paper cup; who would ever do such a thing! “As long as we can serve it in something other than paper cups” She jested, throwing a teasing look over her shoulder at the man. Ralph allowed himself to laugh, the sort that came from the very depths of your stomach, as he shook his head in a bid to hide the undeniable smirk that graced his face. “Of course not, Pamela” He proclaimed, his eyes landed on Jane for a moment.
As carefree and full of life as she was, on this occasion, Jane’s ‘happy go luck’ nature was infectious - even Pamela couldn’t deny that. Taking her periwinkle cashmere cardigan off her shoulders, Pamela folded it over the plush leather sofa before making her way over to Jane. “We’ll have you making proper English tea in no time” She vowed as her hands wrapped around the plastic handles of the wheelchair and pushed it in the direction of the dimly lit kitchen. Ralph stepped into the compact kitchen, flicking the light on and allowing it to illuminate the room. “Do you have a teapot?” Pamela wondered aloud as she brought the wheelchair to a stop beside the worn out stove. Jane began to giggle softly as she watched her father patter around the little kitchen in search of the teapot - something that Jane rarely saw until recent weeks - and glanced up at Pamela. “Daddy’s been trying and failing to make the perfect cup of tea for weeks now, ever since he made you a cup of it” She uttered in a hushed voice, hoping only Pamela would hear her and not her father, she didn’t want to embarrass the man after all, as much as she did love him. Fiddling with the stove - they always had been a pain for her to use - Pamela eventually had the water boiling before adding two tea bags. “American tea is nothing compared to a good English brew” Pamela confided in Jane - as though it was a national secret - as the child hung on to her every word and action.
Leaning against the countertop, Ralph found himself enthralled by the scene in front of him. Was this some twisted dream, taunting him with the one thing - or one person rather - that he could never have?
“The sun came out today” Ralph cooed, looking directly at Pamela as he spoke, his steps slowing down somewhat - to an even more leisurely pace - as the woman came to walk in time with himself and not the wheelchair. “Now you’re going to tell me that it has something to do with me” Pamela foretold, remembering how he had announced that during her last visit. She wouldn’t admit that she had thought of him every time the sun had made an appearance. “He’s right, the sun hasn’t shone in weeks - it’s been raining mostly” Jane contributed, her usually soft spoken voice became tremulous as she spoke. Pamela remembered what Ralph had told her once; when it rained, he would have to leave Jane in the empty house by herself, whereas when it was bright and the sun shone like a blazing fire, he could leave Jane in the porch to watch the world go by. “I think you brought the sun out again” She concluded, turning her head to face the two adults behind her. Pamela looked out of the corner of her almond toned eyes at the man beside her before glancing down at the stone grey footpath. Ralph could have sworn that he saw a faint pink blush come to her cheeks - not that he was going to tell her that of course.
It was only whenever Jane took the tartan fleece from her lap and wrapped it around her shivering shoulders, that Ralph decided to turn the wheelchair around and head in the direction of home once more. Without drawing much attention to herself, Pamela took the child’s shaking, shivering and unsteady hand in her own. Jane’s was almost as pale as her own - only a shade darker than the first snow of winter - though her very bones seemed more fragile than her own. Subconsciously, Pamela found herself running her thumb across the girl’s knuckles in a bid to keep at least her hand warm if nothing else. Silence filled the air around the trio, but it was a comfortable silence, each of them lost in their own deep thoughts. Returning to the suburban home, Pamela headed up the ramp ahead of Ralph and Jane, moving to hold the heavy timber door open for the pair. “Can you teach daddy how to make proper tea?” It was Jane who broke the comfortable but familiar silence, with her innocent voice echoing through the once silent room. Pamela chuckled slightly at the request, remembering the day that Ralph had committed the biggest act of blasphemy known to man - serving tea in a paper cup; who would ever do such a thing! “As long as we can serve it in something other than paper cups” She jested, throwing a teasing look over her shoulder at the man. Ralph allowed himself to laugh, the sort that came from the very depths of your stomach, as he shook his head in a bid to hide the undeniable smirk that graced his face. “Of course not, Pamela” He proclaimed, his eyes landed on Jane for a moment.
As carefree and full of life as she was, on this occasion, Jane’s ‘happy go luck’ nature was infectious - even Pamela couldn’t deny that. Taking her periwinkle cashmere cardigan off her shoulders, Pamela folded it over the plush leather sofa before making her way over to Jane. “We’ll have you making proper English tea in no time” She vowed as her hands wrapped around the plastic handles of the wheelchair and pushed it in the direction of the dimly lit kitchen. Ralph stepped into the compact kitchen, flicking the light on and allowing it to illuminate the room. “Do you have a teapot?” Pamela wondered aloud as she brought the wheelchair to a stop beside the worn out stove. Jane began to giggle softly as she watched her father patter around the little kitchen in search of the teapot - something that Jane rarely saw until recent weeks - and glanced up at Pamela. “Daddy’s been trying and failing to make the perfect cup of tea for weeks now, ever since he made you a cup of it” She uttered in a hushed voice, hoping only Pamela would hear her and not her father, she didn’t want to embarrass the man after all, as much as she did love him. Fiddling with the stove - they always had been a pain for her to use - Pamela eventually had the water boiling before adding two tea bags. “American tea is nothing compared to a good English brew” Pamela confided in Jane - as though it was a national secret - as the child hung on to her every word and action.
Leaning against the countertop, Ralph found himself enthralled by the scene in front of him. Was this some twisted dream, taunting him with the one thing - or one person rather - that he could never have?