Yellow Daffodils

By Christopher John Nicol-Bowser



















Little Jossie was seven years old to the day and to celebrate her birthday her family had

arranged a special afternoon picnic with three of her best friends. All the girls looked

incredibly alike: they all were tall and thin, with long legs if not a little gangly, oval round

faces covered in long light brown hair, but each one also had a subtle difference. Heidi had

freckles and wore glasses, Paula liked to wear her hair up in pig-tails, Emma’s hair was the

longest and the curliest, whilst Jossie’s hair was the longest and straightest.

They all sat intimately in the middle of Heidi’s parents’ huge garden, on a snug looking red

and white square wool blanket, happily chatting away to other and laughing as they played

games and dressed up dolls in ragged clothes and read each other stories from fairy tale

books, whilst eating small cut quarter ham salad sandwiches, big bowls of crisps

Caerphilly cheese, long sticks of celery and for drinks they had a large jug of freshly

squeezed orange squash which they all drunk in paper cups.

It was the most beautiful of spring days, just warm and dry enough to spend the first day

out in the garden, the blossom on the trees had an early bloom, the light tints of blue and

purple on the trees floated like angels, and the honey suckle wallowed in the air sweetly

combining with the freshly cut grass and little white daisy’s that looked so crisp and alive

that the garden seemed to breath the same fresh air as the little girls, as if they all

resonated in one whole unit, captured by a painters hand with oil paint on canvas. But the

one object that caught Jossie’s eye the most was the hundred’s and hundreds of bright

yellow daffodils that sprouted from every corner of the garden, and along the edges of the

main bank created a unity of yellow all around them. She felt they were magical and she

had an urge to get up and dance amongst them.

‘It’s such a glorious day to be outside girls,’ Emma said.

‘Yes I’m really enjoying myself,’ Heidi said.

‘Can you pass the juice Paula,’ Jossie asked.

‘Here we go, happy birthday Jossie,’ Paula replied.

They were loving every moment of the day, every second was a blessing, as the sun

beamed down glorious hot rays of heavenly sunshine through the trees and they could

all feel the glorious warmth of the sun on the tops of their heads. It was a perfect day.

Absolutely Perfect.

‘You know your mother is dead,’ Heidi said.

Suddenly the perfect day changed and vanished with those simple words. Words spoken

with as much ease as if she was asking Jossie what was her favourite colour. And now all

that was left was silence as it penetrated all the girls thoughts and movements. Each one of

the girls looked at Jossie, and waited for a reaction.

But the words cemented in Jossie’s head and a huge sense of confusion covered her

mind. A panic rose from somewhere deep inside her heart and filled her body with a

shiver. Panic that sent a bolt of lightening to her young and innocent heart.

‘No she’s not,’ she snapped back defensively.

‘She is, I heard my mum telling my father in the kitchen.’

‘She can’t be,’ she screamed.

Again Jossie was stopped in the empty silence, not knowing what to say next as more

streams of confusion ran over her mind. Silence penetrated again. Not able to think the

other girls stared at her intensely. But the damage had been done. She felt separated

from the others now. She was the odd one. She was different and they all knew it.

‘Are you OK Jossie?’Heidi asked.

But before she could say anything else, Josssie had already jumped to her feet and

ran to her home as quickly as her long bandy thin legs would carry her. She continued

to run down the path of her own home, breathing and panting heavily and the first

person she ran into was her grandfather and his brother who were talking quietly

outside the house. Both of them stood outside the front door to the house and were

both talking quietly to each other. Her grandfather was pointing to something in the

sky with his arm outstretched, which had now clouded over and had darkened.

‘Is my mum dead?’ she asked anxiously.

‘Yes,’ he said trying to hold back all the pain that was so clear to see on his face, but

which little Jossie did not understand.

The panic and confusion continued to rot away in her mind as she ran into the house

and into the living room, but there she was suddenly knocked still as if she had ran into

a brick wall ; the atmosphere that filled it so thick and tense with dark heavy feelings it

penetrated her very soul. The moderate sized living room was full of her family and close

relatives, covered in semi-darkness as the green velvet curtains were nearly fully closed,

excluding most of the daylight, everyone of them sat somewhere in the room crying like

Jossie had never seen anyone cry before. Some of them cried into empty space, some cried

into their handkerchiefs and some cried on each others shoulders. It was so loud, so noisy,

as the chaotic tears filled the room, the grey long faces grieved in pain and in misery,

heartache prevailed in every minute molecule of the room.

Little Jossie stood there in shock, frozen motionless by what she could see in front of her

young eyes, not knowing what to do or what to say. No one came to her, everyone

seemed to look at her, but then look through her as if she did not exist. No one knew what

to do and as she stood at the entrance to the door her fear just grew. She was so scared

and so petrified at what she could see her chest got tighter, her breathing became more

shallow, more quick and her innocent and fragile mind raced with new fearful thoughts.

What is happening...Is everything all right, is everything going to be OK. But still no one

approached to comfort her fears.

She began to feel a growing sense of isolation to all the bodies around her like she did

a few moments ago to her closest friends. She felt increasingly all alone and abandoned

and her spirit grew smaller and smaller. It shrivelled up like the skin of an ageing apple.

The juiciness and freshness sucked away by time as grey clouds and confused thoughts

rambled and rioted in her head. What was wrong with everyone…Why was everyone

acting so strange…Where was her father...Why wasn’t anyone talking to her...Where is

her mother now...Has she really gone forever...Is she going to be OK…Will she see her

again...Will she be able to talk to her.... She didn’t know the answer to any of these

questions, but she had so many of them and she wanted some answers.

But no answers came and she was left feeling even more confused, dazed and anxious.

Her safe and warm world has become shattered like a clear glass plane exploded into a

thousand pieces. She sat down in front of the television, switched it on and stared at the

screen blankly, the images on it’s surface did not matter. She didn’t want to be in this

world anymore. Every now and then she had the courage to look up and around the room

if only vacantly at all the sad and distant figures, and finally her eyes once again came to

rest and became transfixed on a bunch of bright translucent daffodils glowing away

in a tall thick glass vase that stood on the Welsh dressing. One large single daffodil in

particular caught her attention, as it seemed to have an inner glow ten times more than any

of the other daffodils. Jossie stared into its shades of yellow and green and slowly went

into her own trance, slowly she blocked out all the pain that surrounded her, wishing for

the beauty and love she could see in the flowers form. Soon the tragic event slowly faded

away in the distance and she hoped it would never return.