Writing Becoming Maz-My diversion therapy

 Maz in Wolverhampton

My novel is a work of fiction and I am not Marion however I did draw on a lot of my memories for the descriptions. I first lived in a two bedroomed house in Wolverhampton close to the railway line. I don't think we had much money but  we were happy there. The neighbours were friendly and there was a lot of gossiping in the shared entry at the back. My mother told me I fell down the step in the yard although I have no recollection of doing so. I do remember my father repairing his bike punctures, buying me a huge teddy and taking me to a nearby park where we could hear the trains hooting and see the steam spiralling into the sky.

                     

                        1.                                                    2.

1. My mother took Teddy's glass eyes out (they were attached to a wire in his head) and replaced with  buttons as she was worried I might pull them out and choke on them! I called him Teddy Robinson- no idea why! 
2. This is me standing in the garden with the open gate and white step!

Extracts from my novel:

Teddy

The next evening Marion rushes to meet Joe when she hears his key turning in the lock. His face is hidden by the huge box he’s carrying. “Look what I’ve got for our clever little girl! Say ‘daddy’ and you can see what I’ve got for you!”

“Daddy,” says Marion obediently and Joe opens the box to reveal a large brown teddy bear nearly as big as Marion. The teddy is soft and she picks him up, staggering around the room with the weight of it. Joe laughs delightedly and pulls Doris out of the kitchen to watch.

“How much did that cost?” Doris looks worried but then laughs as Marion says, “Mommy good girl Marion.”

Teddy goes to bed with Marion. The glass amber eyes glow in the dark scaring Marion. Doris replaces them with blue buttons the next day and that night Marion falls asleep quickly. The little lamp is low and a thin shadow bends over her as she sleeps.

One bright autumn day, Marion is in the yard with Joe.

The white step

 “Say Dadda!” begs Joe but she is too busy exploring. She toddles towards the bicycle that Joe rides to work and presses her little fingers into the ridges on the tyres. Joe turns the bike upside down and spins the wheels. The sun bounces off the spokes and Marion stamps her feet in delight. Joe goes to get his puncture kit leaving her alone in the yard. A pigeon peers down from the fence. She stands still. There’s a blur. A flurry of wings as the pigeon grabs a crust near her and swoops back to the fence. A lone white feather flutters down and she picks it up. Her spine prickles and her toes are tingling. Suddenly she knows that she too can fly. The gate at the bottom of the yard is open. A big white step lead onto the shared alley and beyond that the little garden where big white sheets flap on the washing line. Marion wants to soar like the pigeon. She’s poised on her toes and then she’s going up and up.  The white step look small now. Bright green leaves on the trees wave at her, the garden is a tiny patch of green, the slates on the roof are a blue grey and her mother and father are little running dolls. Marion is gone.

She has hurt her knees-they’re covered with red sticky stuff. The pain makes her scream. Doris reaches her first. She is lying at the bottom of the steps.

“Why didn’t you shut the gate? How could you leave her on her own?”

Marion screams louder and feels the safety of her mother’s arms and sees the guilt in her father’s face as she is carried inside.

As winter advances Doris and Marion spend more time in the house. Marion sits in her baby chair in the tiny kitchen watching her mother. The spitting kettle hisses and steams up the window. Rivers of condensation run down the grey walls. Her mother sometimes looks sad when she looks in the green metal cupboard, but she laughs and sings when Marion splashes her at bath time in the big white sink. Other times Marion roams round the living room that smells of lavender. She watches Doris polishing the floor on her knees and tries to copy her. The pale blue cupboard near the window is a mystery: lots of drawers with shiny handles that she likes to pull but is unable to open. The settee is green and good to bounce on, but her favourite place is under the heavy mahogany table where she sits with her dolls, watching the fire. Flames from the fire change shape and jump up the chimney, shadows flit along the walls and disappear behind and into the cupboard’s secret drawers. She stares out until the edges of the room blur and is drawn into the shadows where time slips. She returns suddenly but doesn’t remember where she has been.