Full Circle

His wails pierced through the Saturday morning hum of chattering nanas, modish hipsters and babbling young mums that bustled around them. Norah loved the medley of market goers since they merged the farmers and collectors markets at Bridge Street. She looked at the small boy in front of her with bouncing blonde curls and cherry red cheeks. She wondered if Finn had ever been that small. ‘He certainly was never that vocal’ she thought to herself.

“I don’t really understand what a grown man wants with a battered up old toy train!” The child’s mother stood tall with a coffee cup in one hand and the other resting on the handle of his pushchair.

“He’s not… he…” Norah mumbled. Usually she wouldn’t tolerate these comments, and would challenge them often. But not today. Today, Norah did not have the energy. She could barely keep her eyes open after another night shift last night, let alone part her lips to start an argument with a stranger. Her friends and family wondered how she did it – come home at 7am, make marmalade on toast for Finn and a black coffee for herself, before leaving again at 8am for the market. But, this is what they did every Saturday.

Finn stepped forward and handed the train to the wailing child. The mother hissed thank you through gritted teeth and poured a few pounds from her purse into the stall owner’s hand before walking off. Norah held Finn’s arm and turned back towards the table of trinkets in front of them. Finn was much taller than her; he had been since he turned 12. He was 17 now and looking more and more grown up each time she looked at him.

“Don’t let her bother you madam. Is there anything else you have your eye on today young man?” This was Finn’s favourite stall to visit, perhaps because there were usually trains to be found amongst the random bric-a-brac; but also it sat in the furthest corner of the market between a stall selling old VHS videotapes and another selling knitted baby booties, meaning it was much quieter than the rest of the market. Norah liked this stall because the owner was friendly and patient with Finn. He never rushed him, or looked at him oddly. Even though he never received a response, he always spoke to Finn. Most people barely made eye contact with him and only spoke through her.

Finn had collected trains since he was about 2, when his grandad brought him a few toy models he had found at a car boot sale. Norah winced thinking about the size of his collection now and wondered what on earth she would do with them after he moved out. She swept the thought quickly from her mind, she hated thinking about it. “Come on Finn isn’t there another train here somewhere…” her hands moved across the table of trinkets and past the handwritten signs;

‘Die cast cars Buy One Get One free’

She smiled at the way the stall owner wrote his ‘f,’ which looked more like an S to her.

The stall holder stood from his stool to rummage through a wooden crate filled with - what looked like to Norah - more junk. “Let’s see what’s in here young man” he said softly as he pulled out a small, black notebook with rounded corners. “What about this?” he said handing it to Finn. Norah appreciated his enthusiasm but this was clearly an old, used notebook with extra pages stuffed in and held together by an elastic closure. She looked at the man with a raised brow. He was sweet and quiet with caramel skin and white hair. His eyes were green and she suspected he was quite handsome in his day. Once again she found herself unable to summon the energy and handed the man a five pound note. “Keep the change,” she smiled, and they turned to leave.

***

“I know you want the best for him Norah, but Myrtle House is a great facility. Ok it’s a bit further away but…”

“Mum please, can we just not…today, please?” Norah busied herself by moving things around the kitchen table and pottering near the sink. Weekends mostly consisted of caring for Finn, and keeping to his schedule, which didn't leave much time to sort the house. Norah’s mother looked around the kitchen at the piles of papers, dishes and laundry that occupied the dining table. She lifted a scruffy black notebook before tossing it back on the pile. “You know you really ought to just throw most of this away.” Clenching the sink with her hands, Norah pursed her lips and closed her eyes for a moment. She let out a long breath from her nose as her shoulders sank. “Would you like a cup of tea before you go mum?” she asked suggestively. “No, point taken. I will leave you to it! Finn come and give nanny a kiss!”

Norah walked her mother to the door and threw her arms around her.

“I know sweetheart, I know. I wish we could do more. I know it’s only down the road, but Spring Vale is just so expensive Norah.”

“I know, mum. See you next week?”

“See you next week.”

Norah kissed her mum softly on the cheek, and closed the door. She felt tears filling her eyes but as usual, would not let them fall.

Back in the kitchen, she slumped at the dining table with her coffee to sort through the piles. Finn was categorising his trains by colour this week, so she should have an hour before they headed out. 'Why have I even kept this book...' she wondered as she lifted the notebook. Norah pulled the elastic closure over the rounded corner and past the paper leaves that filled the book. Flipping through the pages she noticed that there were several different styles of handwriting scrawled across them, ranging from squarish blocks to cursive curls. She assumed that this book had passed through many hands. There were even some sketches and roughly drawn maps.

HELPED JUNE CARRY HER SHOPPING IN.

Donated time at the charity shop today, to sort through donations!

…and so the scribblings went on. It didn’t take long for her to realise that this book was filled with kindness; a log of good deeds almost. She fumbled through a few more pages until she came across a familiar style that was different from the rest.

‘Offered the train I wanted to someone else who wanted it too.’

Norah stared at the sentence for a moment, perplexed. Her thoughts were interrupted by a heavy metal train being dumped in her lap. Finn looked at her sternly before stomping out. How did that get up there? Finn loved trains, but he hated duplicates. Norah picked up the train and threw it into the box she kept under the stairs. Finn was difficult to buy for but everyone knew that he liked trains. But this meant that often he would receive duplicates, particularly from her father who used to spend Saturday mornings at car boot sales and market stalls looking for any train he could gift to his ‘fireman Finn.’ Norah smiled as she remembered her dad playing trains with Finn when he was small, “Finn – you be the fireman and stoke the coals and Grandad will be the engineer! Choo Choo!”

Sadness overwhelmed her like a wave crashing on the shore.

Norah composed herself and called to Finn, “come on mate - time to stretch our legs!” Every Sunday once the trains had been sorted, they walked around the nearby lake. This walk, which she used to enjoy, had become difficult for Norah over the past few months. The route took them right past Spring Vale Residential. When Finn’s key worker suggested last year that she consider residential options for Finn after his 18th birthday, she had hoped to apply for a space at Spring Vale so she could still see him every day.

Norah slipped on her wellies and guided Finn through the door. They walked towards the lake in silence. Finn’s warm hand tucked around her arm with hers resting on top. Although there was a chill the sun shone brightly, kissing her cheeks when the air was still. It was early September and she could feel the crispness of cooler months approaching. Birds chirped and children laughed in the fields. They approached the ice cream shop at the top of the park and Norah asked Finn if he would like one, as she had every Sunday. Finn didn’t like the sensation of ice cream on his tongue, but Norah could tell he liked her to ask. A young father stood with his daughter at the counter. The little girl was excitedly trying to decide which ice cream she would like, while her father tried his best to guide her to the smaller lollipops at the bottom of the poster. “Daddy will get you one with a flake next time, what about this cool rocket lolly?”

Norah interrupted, “hey chicken, we just found these gold coins on the field over there – would you like them for your ice cream?” She pulled three pound coins from her pocket and handed them to the little girl. The girl’s eyes sparkled and the dad thanked her.

As they walked away, Norah wondered if this was good enough to go in the notebook...

***

Weeks went by and Norah made a habit of filling in the little black book. She wasn’t sure why, but she actually enjoyed it. That morning she had decided to donate Finn’s duplicate trains to the local nursery. She had held on to them all this time thinking they had sentimental value, but realised that they could spread so much more joy by being played with.

Norah climbed the steps towards the nursery carrying the heavy box in both arms. At the door, she struggled to grasp the brass handle to open it. A mother rushed past her, opening the door to let herself in and walking on the freshly mopped floor as she entered. Norah looked on in disbelief as the caretaker dropped his mop to grab the door for her. “Thank you so much, how rude was that?! Oh gosh, sorry about your floor!”

“No problem, here - let me help you!” He took the box from her and asked where he should take it. “Oh, it’s just some old toys I’m donating that’s all.”

“Thank you so much, I will take care of these.”

Norah thanked the man and turned on her heels to leave, before pausing. She pulled the notebook from her pocket and placed it on top of the box. “I know it seems odd but I acquired this book a while back and it has helped me greatly over the last few weeks, I think it’s time to pass it on!”

As she walked down the steps away from the nursery, she heard the door open behind her again. “Excuse me lovely!” the caretaker called as ha jogged down the steps, train in hand. He pointed the small red train towards her, “you don’t want to get rid of this one my love, that’s a collector’s piece; my old man used to collect trains and these would go for a few bob, even back then. Why don’t you sell it on that web book?”

Norah smiled and took the train, “thank you” she said, gratefully.

That evening, she put the train on an online bidding platform, hopeful to get some money to take Finn out for the day maybe to the miniature railway in Bentley, before he moves the 160 miles away to Myrtle House.

The next morning, Norah woke to 23 notifications. She had only left it open overnight, not expecting much interest. Her jaw dropped in disbelief when she saw the winning bid. £20,000!

“Mum, Finn’s going to Spring Vale! Come over, I’ll stick the kettle on...”