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THE MAGIC CARPET

by Abigail Armani


Jeannie smiled as she drove up Chestnut Hill. It was nearing the end of September, and the leaves were turning into a thousand tantalising shades of red-ochre. Every little twist and turn of the road was familiar to her for she had travelled this way countless times over the years through changing seasons. On reaching the crest of the hill, she dropped a gear and proceeded carefully down the other side. Her mother's house lay in the valley at the bottom of the hill, sheltered by the ancient rise and flanked on two sides with horse chestnut trees. Beyond the house were fields and woodland, cut through with a narrow silver ribbon of water that trickled and bubbled over the river bed. Mother's nearest neighbours were in the village two miles away, which was exactly how she preferred things. She had her reasons.

Even now, at the age of twenty-four, Jeannie experienced the same thrill she had felt as a young teen returning home from boarding school. The car would climb the hill oh so slowly, and then on reaching the summit in that moment before the descent, Jeannie would stick her head out of the window for that first precious glimpse of home.

Jeannie gripped the wheel and smiled. The place had lost none of its magic, with its quaint thatched roof and walls of mellow stone warmed by the last blooms of climbing roses and curling tendrils of jasmine and clematis. As she got out of the car, she was greeted by the fragrant scent of wood smoke and an open door, through which her mother emerged, smiling and waving.

The two women hugged and kissed, and Jeannie grabbed her suitcase and followed Mum inside the house and into the warm kitchen. A batch of scones had not long been out of the oven, and the kettle was singing on the hob.

"Mmm, they look nice," said Jeannie as she eyed the scones.

"I made your favourite - cherry and raisin." Mum deposited two on a plate and pushed them at Jeannie, along with a dish of creamy yellow butter and a pot of jam. "I hope you aren't on a silly diet like you were on your last visit?"

"Of course not," replied Jeannie as she sampled the first of the scones. "You wouldn't believe what three days on the cabbage soup diet does to your digestive system."

Mum's eyebrows arched in mock horror. "I'm not sure I want the details, darling. Now, tuck in and tell me all your news."

They chatted on about Jeannie's job as a graphic designer, plus snippets of gossip pertaining to other family members. Then the talk turned to Hank, Jeannie's latest boyfriend. As soon as her mother mentioned his name, Jeannie's face fell.

"Oh dear, that's a bleak look. I take it things aren't going too well?"

"They're not going at all. I've dumped the moron."

"No! I thought you were madly in love with him?"



© Abigail Armani
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.