Memory Lane

Jenna had walked down this road many times, yet she had never noticed it before. The tiny alleyway, its entrance covered with hanging ivy. Fiddling with a strand of hair that had fallen over her face, as she had done for many years, she felt an urge to lift the ivy and go in. It was a strong pull and she didn't resist. She pulled back the ivy and gasped. It was a little country lane, peaceful and serene, with many different doors scattered down the length of the seemingly endless lane. The ivy across the entrance was now blocking out all the noise from the street; all she could hear were birds tweeting their many different songs, bees buzzing around in the sun, and what sounded like the trickle of water. It reminded her of the creek she used to play in when she was a child.

"Jennifer, dear. Jennifer, where are you?" her mother called. It was coming from behind the first door. Jenna touched the handle softly. It was round, a perfect sphere, held on to the wooden door by a large oval shaped piece of brass. She pushed open the pale blue door and gasped. In front of her was her mother and a small child who looked to be about three years old. She had jet black hair which had been pulled into ringlets. Jenna put a hand to her own hair. She had had grey hair for so long that she had almost forgotten how dark her hair had been. Her striped pinafore dress sat just above her knees and brought out the brown in her eyes. A small bundle in her mother's arms wriggled and squealed.

"Mummy?" the little girl asked.

"Sit still, there's a good girl, and then you can meet your new sister."

Jennifer sat on the arm chair in the corner of the wood panelled room and waited, a cushion pushed up against the side of her. Very soon, the small, wriggling bundle was placed gently in her arms. Violet Geraldine Fox. Jennifer's eyes widened in surprise and baby Violet stopped crying, instead staring into her sister's eyes. The eyes that matched hers perfectly.

Jenna hadn't realised she was crying until a tear drop landed on her hand. Leaving the room, never taking her eyes off of her mother standing over her and her baby sister, she closed the door and moved forwards. The sound of water splashing was getting louder as she approached the second door. Opening it, she was surrounded by trees and the sound of sweet, innocent laughter. This was the creek she had thought she heard! Two black haired girls and two little boys, who looked exactly the same, ran past her, giggling. They didn't see her, for after all this was just a memory.

"Jenna," cried one of the little boys. "Push me please?"

"Hang on Walter I'm coming," little Jenna called out. She scrambled over a log, grazing her knees, but she never noticed. If she did, she simply ignored it. Walter clung to the rope swing they had constructed and she pushed him. The children watched as he swung over the creek and back again, his little head flung back in pure enjoyment. It was 1943, their father had been called to service a couple of years before, and while their mother had four small children to care for, she wasn't alone. There was a saying her mother had always said, "It takes a village to raise a child." Jenna hadn't realised how true that was until she had her own children. Little Jenna was nine, Violet was six, and the twins, Walter and Ronald, had just had their fifth birthday.

Leaving the children to play, Jenna came back out into the lane. That was when she noticed she hadn't been using her walking stick. She had needed that since 1996 when she had that fall. Twenty-one years, she gasped. It can't have gone that fast, surely. Smiling, she crossed the lane to a rustic maple wood door. It opened out onto a school yard. Her body was suddenly flooded with the feeling of butterflies and a warmth she hadn't felt for more than 60 years started to spread in her stomach. A blonde haired boy was playing football in the yard across from her, his friends cheering him on. It was Eugene Hunter, the school heart throb. They had started courting a few weeks ago, and if Jenna was right, tonight was the night he would take her to the cinema. The night she knew she was going to marry him. The scene faded into a grey mist and in its place, a large screen, Doris Day's face smiling down at them. Jenna and Eugene were enjoying the movie, their fingers entwined below the seats. Eugene's older brother was sat two rows behind, chaperoning. Ernest liked Jenna, but not in the way Eugene did. He knew how much his brother liked her and hoped that she would be the one to help him settle down. After all, there were so many girls after him, it was bound to go to his head. Watching the scene play out, Jenna smiled. She remembered that dress, it had been her favourite. A pale gold colour top, with a dark blue skirt and a golden sash around the waist, complete with a bow. Doris Day and Gordon MacRae were singing as she left, bringing back yet more memories.

She seemed to walk for a while this time before she came upon the next door. The sun was shining brightly and there was a slight breeze in the air. Jenna opened the door, nervous about what was behind it. However, she needn't be.

"Can you pass the salt please?" young Jenna asked.

"Hmm, I might," teased Eugene, smiling. He gave his girlfriend a kiss and handed her the salt. The secluded meadow was the perfect place for a summertime picnic. It was their favourite spot, and they had been coming here for just over a year now.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Eugene was looking uncomfortable and kept clearing his throat. "Genie, what's the matter?"

"Jenna, we've known each other a long time," he said, nervously. He got on to one knee, fiddling around in his pocket for something. He found it and pulled out a small box. "Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?"

Jenna, both young and old, teared up, then young Jenna flung her arms around his neck.

"Yes, I will," she squealed. He slipped the ring on to her finger and kissed her again. Jenna looked down at her wrinkled finger. The ring had been sat there ever since that day, over 60 years now. It had been Eugene's mother's ring, making it now almost a hundred years old. It was a rose gold with a delicate pattern engraved into the sides of the band. The stone was rectangular, surrounded by diamonds with a black onyx in the centre. It had been her pride and joy over the years and had been promised to her eldest daughter when she passed away. Jenna left the young couple to celebrate in private — after all, she knew how it would go — and made her way towards the next door. She noticed she was walking much easier now; there were little, if any, aches and pains.

The next door was covered in white silk and Jenna knew exactly what would be behind it. The double French doors glided open with ease and she entered, smiling. There she was as a young bride, her jet black hair curled up as was the fashion in those days. It was the 25th of September, 1954; the same wedding date as Jenna's favourite actress, Audrey Hepburn. The weather was cool and dry, perfect for an autumn wedding. She prided herself on being a modern bride. Her dress came just below her knees and fanned out in the typical fifties fashion. There was a high neck collar attached to it and her veil sat perfectly on her head, as though it were moulded to her specifically.

"Jenna, don't forget this," her maid of honour smiled, holding up a shiny silver sixpence. She bent down in her periwinkle blue dress and slipped it inside. Traditionally the bride's father was to slip it into her shoe, but he had died the year before, so she was being given away by her grandfather instead. Violet, the maid of honour and younger sister, gathered the other two bridesmaids up — their two cousins Hannah, who was ten, and Miriam, who was just three years old — and together they got ready to walk down the aisle. William, Jenna's grandfather, took her arm, proudly smiling at his granddaughter.

"You look just like your mother when she got married, pet," he told her, wiping away a stray tear that he had promised himself wouldn't happen today.

The scene dissolved and in its place stood Jenna and Eugene at the altar, taking their vows. He had been such a handsome man, she thought to herself. He had passed away only three years before. Heart attack, the paramedic had said. Still, it didn't stop her missing him every single day. The scene dissolved once more just as the couple shared their first kiss as husband and wife.

Jenna enjoyed a nice stroll through the countryside. She had seen no cars, though a horse had trotted by once or twice with its owner. The fresh air seemed to be doing her a world of good. She hadn't felt this alive in many years. The sound of children laughing filled the air and she smiled once more. There was a door coming up towards her which she opened with glee. Behind it stood a very similar scene to one she had already seen. A young mother, a little girl with jet black hair, and a baby. This, however, was the christening of her second child. A little boy she named Felix William Hunter. Her daughter, Nancy Violet Hunter, was to be doing the special honours today for her little brother. The four-year-old would be handing out pieces of cake to everyone, and she had managed to convince her mum and dad to let her sprinkle flower petals down for him.

The doors were coming faster now and she was struggling to keep up with them. The next one she came across opened out onto the living room. She was sat on the sofa with Nancy, who was eight years now, watching their brand new black and white television. Nancy wasn't normally allowed to stay up and watch television, but tonight was different. It was the 23rd of November, 1963 and the pilot episode of a new show was airing. Something called Doctor Who. Jenna reached out to touch her young daughter's hair, but her fingers never made contact. This was, after all, a memory. This was the second day in a row the television had been on. The day before the American President, John F. Kennedy, had been shot in broad daylight and the news of it had reached almost every single household in the world with access to a television, a radio or a newspaper. Nancy's eyes were wide in surprise when the TARDIS made its journey towards the Stone Age.

Very soon, Jenna and Eugene's tenth wedding anniversary came along as well. Jenna was surprised to find herself at a graveside. It was nothing more than a tiny head stone, no grave as such to speak of, but she still liked to visit there. She leaned over around herself to see the name, but she already knew who was there. The little boy she had lost during childbirth when Nancy was just two years old. Dean Ernest Hunter was always going to hold a special place in her heart, however, back in those days, they never spoke about it. It broke Jenna's heart then, and still did now, but she had to just forget about it, at least outwardly, and carry on. She leaned down to the memory headstone, giving it a kiss.

Next, it was Felix's first day at school, then Nancy's first serious boyfriend, Felix coming home with a test he had done at with a 98 percent mark, the highest in the class. Before she knew it, she was celebrating her thirtieth wedding anniversary and had become Granny Jenna all within two months of each other. Before she knew it, she had come to the end of the lane and a strange glow was coming towards her through the trees. She wanted to turn and look behind her but didn't want the sight of her mangled body laying on the road after being hit by that large, expensive car, to be the last memory of herself. Instead, she made her way towards the light, being greeted by the four figures coming out of it. Eugene, Dean, and her parents. She was happy. She was home at last.