150. A change of destination

 I often think of her. 

I met her by the side of the play area in the early evening. When the children wanted an other play before heading home and they kept us waiting under the strong sun. Sometimes we got chatting and we didn't mind the heat and the dust so much. Other times we ganged up to get the crowds back to the cars. This particular evening we both stood with our beach bags on the grounds next to us.

It was that time of the day when us mothers would attempt to march the kids straight from the pool to the showers and from the showers to the gate and from the gate up along the concrete path and then through a second gate and into the car. Then we would strap neat, clean, dry and fresh little children into their seats and drive off.

Instead what happened is that we struggled to get them out of the water, then grapple with soap bottles and wet children in the showers and finally in a grand scuffle we would noisily burst out of the building clean in dry clothes and shoes.

The plan was to march them straight to the air-conditioned car so they would get home clean and fresh. Once home they would eat, brush their teeth and watch a bit of cute telly. Then in bed, tired and exhausted they would fall asleep in no time. 

Instead what happened is that the minute they came out of the showers the sun and the heat and the dust made them instantly sweaty and sticky and itchy and irritable. They would bicker and pinch and punch each other all the way up the concrete path. Yet as soon as the brightly coloured monkey bars came into view they would speed up and race up shouting in delight as if this was the discovery of the century and the opportunity to be reunited with long-lost family members.

And us mothers, just as hot and sticky and bothered, we would just stand there and say feebly.

'Ok, just five minutes.'

As a child of mine came rushed back to hand me a bunch of dried up sticks to look after, the woman standing next to me spoke. 

'Been here long?'

Every conversation seemed to start like this.

'No. A couple of weeks. You?'

'Not long at all. Got here yesterday.'

I knew what the following questions would be and how the conversation would go for the next few minutes. At least I thought I did.

Instead she sighed deeply.

'Do you know we were all set to go somewhere else?'

Silence from my part. She sighed again.

'Canada.'

I glanced at her and at the kids who were by now completely ignoring me - knowing their bunch of sticks was safe. I decided not to ignore her and turned towards her, settled the bags down and sat down on the wooden bench. 

'Canada.'

'Oh!' 

'We were all set. I'd had it all perfectly organised. Stacks of wooly jumpers, scarves, hats, anoraks, gloves, down jackets, ... everything packed away neatly ...'

'Oh!' I said again. This time more heartfelt. I checked if I could spot her kids wearing wooly hats around the play area. None. Then I checked for naked ones. None either. Cannot have been that bad.

'... the school uniforms. Every single item, the ties, a set of shirt for each kids, the P.E. kits, ... 3 kids, that's a lot of stuff. We were good to go. Due to fly out on the Wednesday ... On Monday night my husband called me. I knew there was something wrong. I could tell this phone call was to say something important and not so good. And it turned out I was right.'

As she said this she turned to me and like an actress reading her lines:

'Look!' He told me. 'Look! It's going to be ok but ... But ... Look... We're not going to Canada anymore. I'm being sent to Dubai.'

'Dubaï!' She repeated loudly. The actress was really getting into her role now and it fitted her perfectly. 

'Dubai!' She repeated.

'And here I am!'

'Oh!' I said again stupidly. I really did not know what to say. But I did not need to speak. She went on to tell me about the whereabouts of the crate of wooly jumpers and the rushing to find schools and buy yet more school uniforms (poor kids!) and about how it was better this way than the other way around. Maybe. She was not so sure.

I never saw her again which was not really surprising as people came and went all the time and disappeared without warning but in her case I wondered. Maybe they were sent back to Canada after all? Or somewhere else? But that story has stayed stuck in my head all these years. Now at least, it's out.