Hydrangeas

Thursday 22nd November

Today marks my first entry. I'm not really sure how I’m supposed to structure entries so I guess I’ll just offer a stream of my inner consciousness? Okay, here it goes...

It’s just under two months until my 28th birthday. How should I put it? I feel like a tsunami of time and wasted opportunities is washing over me and I’m dismally drifting along, half-alive. This is quite a depressing first diary entry, isn’t it? Is this normal? Funny, that question seems to be a recurring thought in my life, or more to the point, am I normal?

Right, I think that’s enough self reflection for one night.

Guess I’ll speak to you tomorrow (am I Bridget Jones yet?),

Marina xx

Marina Turner lived in South London, in a flat share in Brixton with four other twenty-something women. Her flatmates were perfectly friendly, neat and hard-working. Despite a busy household, Marina often found herself feeling isolated. Marina worked in Central London for a data-analytics company.

Monday 26th November

Okay, I owe you an apology - I’m three days late. I promise I’ll be more attentive going forward. Not much to report really. It was a fairly uneventful weekend - I walked around Northcote Road on Saturday and I picked up a few gifts for my Mum for Christmas. Sunday night was spent scrolling through the latest dating app to no avail. Queue more texts from my Mum asking if I have any dates lined up before going home for Christmas. I don’t, thanks Mum.

Marina x

Marina had been on a handful of dates since moving to London at the age of twenty-one. In fact, she’d be on nine dates in total, so nearly two handfuls. In comparison to every film she viewed, every book she consumed, every series she binged, Marina felt as though she was the only woman in London who has never had a boyfriend.

Tuesday 27th November

I’m terrified I’m wasting my young years. I walked from Soho all the way back to Brixton after work today, and I saw what felt like hundreds of friends stumbling onto the street, vacating bustling wine bars, restaurants and clubs.

Why do other twenty-seven year olds find it so easy to make friends? Why are people on first dates right now or out with their colleagues getting into the festive spirit and I’m on the edge of my bed with a soup bowl of herbal tea?

Thanks,

Marina x

And WHY did I just say thanks to my diary?!

Despite the several self-help books Marina ordered or the manifestation podcasts she listened to on her commute, Marina couldn’t shake it - she felt as those she was living someone else’s life. Why wasn’t life ‘taking off’ for her? She felt stagnant in her daily humdrum of life, like her legs were permanently trapped in cement.

Thursday 29th November

Me again. David (the big boss) made an announcement today informing the company (all three hundred of us) that Christmas bonuses will now be released in January because they need to be approved by head office and there’s a delay in New York due to the election results. Even though I’ve only encountered him on one or two occasions, David’ s warm New Jersey accent makes me feel safe. Maybe it’s his sharp pin-stripe suits, his Mont Blanc pen he religiously carries around with him, or his phone screensaver that shows his smiling daughter that reminds me of my Dad - the Dad I used to know: the Dad before dementia.

Marina xx

Friday 30th November

Millie, a Senior Manager, who sits near my desk received an enormous bouquet of lilies from the man she’s dating. The mailwoman delivered the flowers which were followed almost immediately by gawks and squeals of colleagues coming over to hear about Millie’s admirer. I watched as Millie blushed and longingly read over his words on the note. What must falling in love feel like? Surely, it makes you feel like the whole giant puzzle of what it is to be on this earth finally comes together? Oh, how I wish to be sent flowers by someone I love.

I’ve had too much mulled wine - I’m waffling now.

Friday 30th November

Double entry today! I'm really getting the hang of this now.

I read somewhere once that you should name your brain so when you feel your thoughts spiralling out of control, you can call your brain out for it - like ‘Jack, please stop spouting nonsense’. Maybe I should name my little black book? What should I call you?

Hmmm, what about Tommy? Sebastian? Or maybe Ollie? Yes, let’s go with Ollie.

Speak soon, Ollie.

Marina xx

Marina bought her little black book in an old book store in Kentish Town earlier in November. She could tell it was genuine leather and it looked a bit worn, as if someone before her had used the bindings but had stitched in fresh parchment pages. She asked the shopkeeper if the book was second-hand but he just grumbled something incoherently and asked for £15. Marina obliged. Marina had never come across the independent bookstore before, which was odd considering it was only a few streets away from her father’s care home. The bookstore smelled of dried tea leaves and damp - the kind of damp that had been there for thirty years.

Monday 3rd December

Something strange happened today, Ollie. When I arrived at my desk, there was a large bouquet of hydrangeas. They were a calming array of blues and lilacs, dappled with ivory. I texted my mum; I texted my flatmates; I asked my colleagues. They said the flowers arrived without a note - just Marina Turner, 4th Floor. Maybe the mail room felt like cheering me up? Or maybe there’s another Marina Turner in Soho who’s living a much larger life than the one I’m currently living.

Night, Ollie xx

Tuesday 4th December

The office rumour mills are really ramping up now. Today I was in the communal cubicles and I overheard women at every stage of the company talking about how this year’s Christmas bonus is rumoured to be the biggest sum yet. Trisha and, I think, Selina (although it could have been Alex...I couldn’t quite hear over the hand dryer) were talking about last year’s bonuses. “I was given £2,000”, said Trisha. “Oh really, is that all? I was awarded £3,500, but that’s probably because Sales has a bigger spend than Marketing”. My lips parted in a faint gasp. I received a £200 Amazon gift card. Am I a terrible employee, Ollie? Did I not work hard enough last year? Tonight I absentmindedly let my mind drift off thinking about what I would do if I was given £3,500. Imagine if it was £10,000, Ollie. Oh, how I wish for a golden pot of money to bring my imagination to reality. I’d take you in my backpack (you’d become a travel log!) and I’d fly to Colombia and learn to dance. Or maybe I’d learn to ski in the Canadian Rockies. No, no - I know, I’d learn to cook in France and master the art of French cooking. My Dad loves listening to Parisian jazz. I’d fly him over and serve him the world’s best coq au vin!

P.S no news on the mysterious Hydrangeas xx

Marina exists in a perpetual state of dreaming, desiring, and longing. There are days she lets her mind wander, or moments at work where she’s writing a report but she’s not really ‘there’. She’s elsewhere, somewhere far away. She’s escaped the daily slog and she’s somewhere different, somewhere she can breathe. Come Saturday mornings, when she visits her Dad, she’s brought back to earth.

Friday 7th December

Last night was the office Christmas party. I borrowed my flatmate’s Rixo dress and I’m sure I looked utterly ridiculous. I started speaking to someone quite lovely at the end of the bar, but his fiancé soon came over and slid seamlessly into his arms before offering to buy the next round. I politely shimmied away. I was in bed by midnight (come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I stayed up past 1am). Do you think I’ll ever meet someone, Ol?

Monday 10th December

I don’t know how to even put pen to paper. I...I...erg...I opened my digital banking app this morning. I feel so sick that I’ve called in sick at work. Ollie, there’s £14,425.63 in my current account. The sender is just a long IBAN number. It’s inexplicable, no - it’s unimaginable. I had £375 in my current account yesterday and £1300 in my savings account. I don’t understand.

Tuesday 11th December

Have I gone insane? Have I officially lost my marbles? Is this, umm, a magical diary? I feel incredibly silly for even putting pen to paper. No, Marina, you’re being a complete goon. Enough fantasising. You have lost it!

Or have I? I wished for a bouquet of flowers and my wish came true. I hoped and wished for a pot of money to bring my dreams to life and, well, it's happened… I must call my bank immediately but I don’t want to wake from my dream quite yet. This is clearly a mistake. It has to be.

“Marina, a moment please”.

Marina walked into David’s corner office, confused that David even knew her name.

“Now, we’d like to keep this under wraps until January when the official ‘Employee Spotlight’ is released in our company-wide newsletter.”

Marina took a seat as David spoke, as if to steady herself from where this conversation might go. Am I about to be fired, or made redundant? Marina’s thoughts raced ahead.

“It is with great delight that I’ve called you into my office today. Marina, the partners and I are giving you the Employee of the Year Financial Bonus of $20,000. Oh sorry, forgive me, I’m hopelessly still using dollars. Eh, let me check… (David fumbles with his iPhone)... ah yes, that works out as £14,425.63.”

Marina’s brow unfurled the moment David read the number in British sterling.

“But, I...I don’t understand. Why me? I’m just an analyst. I didn’t even think people knew I existed.”

“Marina, you’re first here in the morning and last out in the evening. Your reports are impeccable, and you haven’t put a foot wrong in five years. In my opinion, it’s about time we rewarded you. From where I’m sitting, this is long overdue.”

Marina took a gulp from her water bottle. She dug her nails into the palm of her hand and she felt a smile creep steadily across her face. This was real. Marina wasn’t dreaming.

“Oh, and Marina”, David interjected her thoughts, “please do me a favour - go have some fun, will you?”

Wednesday 19th December

It’s officially the Christmas holidays. I’m writing in my magical diary en route to see my Dad for a surprise visit. Today’s the day I’ll tell him that I’ve booked a flight to Mexico.

Oh Ollie, so this is what it feels like to be alive.

Marina bounded along the pavements from Kentish Town tube. Her excitement for the year ahead was bubbling from her like an overflowing champagne flute. The joy carried Marina almost right up until the sliding doors of the home. Marina felt trepidation to tell her Dad her good news in case it would trigger some painful memories for him.

“Oh hello, sweetheart. How’s your mum doing? Can I have some orange juice?”.

Marina shrugged off her coat as she looked at her Dad propped up in bed behind a bouquet of hydrangeas.

“Oh sweetheart, I seem to have sent your next bouquet of flowers to myself. Silly me!”

***