Prettiness by Tuesday Greenidge

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PRETTINESS by Tuesday Greenidge

This story is dedicated to my beautiful Granddaughters Chance, Dyani and Sarayah

Acknowledgement To my first readers, Jayna May, Georgie ,Aurora, Onna May and Hester GanGan adores you

1 Just the other day, just by chance, I discovered while out walking my dog Mr Scruff one of the prettiest, most beautiful places that I had ever seen. I came about it by pure accident really. I’d thrown the ball for Mr Scruff to go and fetch but he had become distracted when he’d found a stick he much preferred to chew on. Although I called to him to go fetch the ball, he chose to ignore me, knowing I would go and retrieve it for him. So off I went to hunt for it. I began to search the hedgerow. It was so beautiful this time of the year with the sweet smell of blackberries, blackcurrants , apples, cherries and elderberry - all my favourites - so much so that every year I would pick them for my Nanny June. She would make jam with them and in exchange I would walk her little dog, Sugar. Nanny June made such delicious jam, enough to last the whole year round, providing I picked enough that is, and collected enough recycled jars from our neighbours and friends. I reminded myself that I still had to collect the baby-food jars from the nursery, in return I would drop off several pots for the toddlers to eat with bread and butter, which they loved (it showed from their jammy faces). Both ‘Nanny June’ my great grandma and I had become very good at our potted jam production. I especially liked to finish off by making the pots pretty. I would cut up last years summer dress into squares and cover the tops securing them with an elastic band. Then I would stick on a label “Chance and Nanny June’s delicious homemade hedgerow jam ever”. And then I would enjoy making deliveries to all my favourite neighbours and friends. So anyway I continued searching the hedgerow, making my way through the thick of it. Having spent many summers picking the fruits here, I was careful not to get too scratched by the brambles. 3

Moving the branches with a long stick, I called Mr Scruff to come and help me, as red as it was I couldn’t seem to find his ball. Just as I was about to give up I saw a fence through the bushes but the bushes were so thick and prickly I couldn’t get to it... Mr Scruff had caught up with me and came bounding over, his tongue dangling to the side of his mouth while he panted. I could tell when he was excited. The hedgerow was so thick I couldn’t see over it, it seemed to stretch along the whole of the hedgerow. So I bent down and decided to crawl to it. Mr Scruff was already pulling himself through on his stomach. I copied, both of us keen to find out what was being fenced in, or why we were being fenced out. One way or another we had to find out! We reached the fence and noticed that the hedgerow was equally thick the other side. I could see a glimmer of sunlight peering through the brambles though, so we continued to scramble through. The blackberry bushes seemed to hold much more fruit on them and they looked bigger. I picked one and yes, they were bigger, better and juicier. Mr Scruff made me laugh when I looked down at him - his nose and whiskers were stained red and purple. So were my jeans and t-shirt. There were heaps of fruit on the ground - readymade jam, I thought - I could literally just scoop it up and pot it. As we got lost in one of our favourite pastimes, scoffing the berries, I looked up and saw an opening through the branches... Mr Scruff stood staring out onto the prettiest meadow. It was filled with an abundance of all kinds of wild flowers. I could see poppies, buttercups, daisies, snowdrops, dandelions, and flowers that I didn’t know the names of, millions, large and dainty. And all around the hedgerow surrounding the meadow there were wild roses of every shade of pink. It was truly a picture, so lovely, it was so pretty. There was only one way to describe this sight and that was ‘pure prettiness’. As mum would tell me often, it always made me chuckle, it was her way of reminding me to stop frowning. It always worked. As it did at this very moment, you see I frowned a lot when I was thinking, working things out, and right now I realised what mum meant by pure prettiness, it was beautiful, gorgeous, delicate, all those things wrapped in one, I suppose and now truly understood. This meadow was truly a mix of all loveliness, prettiness.

Mr Scruff was already bounding across the meadow, knee-deep in wild grass and flowers. I watched him leaping up and down and rolling over, enjoying the scent and nipping at the bees he disturbed while they pollinated the flowered heads. I followed, running through the meadow. Its aroma was sweet and perfumy. I stopped to pick a range of flowers, making up a bouquet. I thought I would take them back home for mummy, but not just yet. I wanted to stay and enjoy this amazing meadow I had only just discovered after all these summers of coming to the hedgerow. I had never even imagined that such a wonderful place existed. I laid down amongst the pretty flowers, Mr Scruff settling beside me. I got lost again in yet another of my favourite pastimes watching the clouds shape-shifting into all my favourite things like dolphins, swans, cherubs,

seahorses, starfish, ballerinas, mermaids, unicorns, white seahorses, sea lions, Christmas trees, Easter bunnies, pumpkins snowflakes and butterflies. I took out my pencil and sketch book that I always carried with me, in my bag that I always had hung over my shoulder, ever since my Gan Gan gave it to me. Gan Gan being one of my Grandmas. You see, I was born with so many - one was called Great Great Grandma, two were called Great Gran, and others insisted on being called Nan or Nanny. Gan Gan came about with a mixture of both Nan and Gran sometimes I called her just Gan. Gan Gan had given me this pencil one day when she watched me laying on my back watching the clouds shift shape. She told me to try and draw or write down everything that I saw, or wanted to see, feel and know. Gan Gan told me that the pencil was magic and if I used it often enough to draw what I saw, I could create whatever I dreamed up. Gan Gan said that until you’ve drawn something you haven’t really seen it, and until you have seen it, truly seen it, by looking and looking and looking, you will not be able to draw it. She also said to write down the first things that came into my head especially when I was relaxed, she said words of all description would automatically come to mind and that I shouldn’t worry if they didn’t make sense or come out in the correct order, just write them down because they would come to mean something, somehow, sometime. I began a stream of words filled my head poppy meadow pink….mmm. So I quickly scribbled them down. I wondered. was this where I was, were these words describing this place of prettiness? I wondered.

Gan Gan also said there was another way of seeing, by using your mind’s eye, drawing what you see in your mind, in your thoughts, in your dreams, day or night. She called it visualizing - using your imagination to conjure up images of whatever you chose. I was now getting quite good at both, drawing images of objects in front of me and around me, and images that popped up in my mind, either of objects or places, or things that had happened, or things I wanted to happen. So after I made a list of all the shapes of things I’d seen in the clouds, I turned over onto my stomach and drew the bright beautifully coloured flowers that were now in front of my nose. I couldn’t miss anything. I drew yellow silky buttercups, each petal with minute veins running through them. Mr Scruff sniffed at them which made his nose turn yellow with the pollen they were filled with. I drew the light green stems with tiny leaves, and then I drew some red poppies, their petals reminding me of soft fabric one would choose for a party gown. I imagined myself floating about in it. I drew their black centres and then their hairy stems Then I drew some more flowers and this time I coloured them in using pink - I look better in pink and it’s my 5

favourite colour - I thought it would also compliment the red ones. So I continued to draw what was all about me and what I could see in my mind’s eye, so then I drew things like pink bananas, elephants, hippos, giraffes, and whales. 4 Gan Gan said I was good at using my imagination. Like an artist, she said. She told me that Artists that drew from their imaginations had all sorts of names for it, names I couldn’t quite understand, words like Abstract which meant seeing from a different way a different point of view. And Impressionism which was meant to describe an impression of something, a view of something drawn outside, a landscape picture; then there was Expressionism which describes a feeling, a feeling that one gets when viewing something, some object, place, or someone someplace somewhere, I suppose. And lastly Surreal which meant crazy and unexpected. She said there were loads more particular words to describe an Artists’ way of seeing, painting and drawing, things that couldn’t be easily explained, those creative things that are in your mind and have no place else to go, except into Art. Where are you Mr Scruff? Oh there you are. Look, do you like what you see? I asked him. Although Gan Gan said that dogs could only see in black and white, I’m quite sure that Mr Scruff could see in colour, how else could he have told me that his favourite colour ball was red!. He was off again bounding through the meadow, having fun chasing butterflies. Oh what a sight watching him sneeze when they landed on his whiskers, which no doubt tickled. I recognised some of the butterflies. The tiny ones were cornflower blue, the larger white tinted green were called ‘cabbage’ and the multicoloured ones I knew for sure were called red admirals, because they looked so regal, rich in colour. One decided to land on my sketch book. I could see it clearly so I drew it. Then I pulled out my pink pencils and drew lots of tiny pink ones, using darker shades to describe the identical markings on their wings, making symmetrical patterns. I continued to draw as much as I could see and feel all about me. I drew a bird lady with her family - oops forgive me, I mean ladybird - that’s a name I have called them ever since mum first pointed them out to me. I coloured them in with an orangey red and gave them all an equal number of black spots. I decided to pay attention to the bird life that lived here in the meadow. The trees were full of bluebirds. Yellow tits, finches and swallows darted about above me. I could hear them chirping joyfully in the hedgerow. They made a wonderful sweet-sounding birdsong. It was bliss just lying here, listening and looking. I got up to walk about the meadow calling Mr Scruff to follow. I was just thinking about how we would have to scramble back through the hedgerow when we were ready to leave. That I didn’t fancy, so I began to look for another exit.

5 Just when I thought we were alone, I looked over and across the other side of the meadow. I could see a young girl. She was stroking a beautiful magnificent-looking pure white horse. Mr Scruff and I stopped and stared for a moment, and then without further ado, we both went leaping across the meadow to say hello. As we got closer, the girl turned towards us said hello to me, and then knelt down to greet Mr Scruff with open arms. Mr Scruff went leaping into her lap to enjoy the fuss she was making of him. Then, from out of her pocket, she pulled out Mr Scruff’s favourite red ball. ‘This must be yours’, she said. ‘Err, yes...’ I said, ‘it is his but… you too, you mean to say that you can see him too?’ ‘Oh yes’, she said, ‘he is a fine, fine looking dog. I love his grey and white fur, and his fluffy scruffy tail, he is so handsome, and his name is Mr …?’ ‘Oh, Mr Scruff,’ I said in disbelief, but also more than happy that some else could see my imaginary greatest friend of all, my dog Mr Scruff.‘Oh, I’m sorry, my name is Chance, it’s a pleasure to meet you.’ and this is Inglebert umperdink, obadiah Greenidge’ aka;Scruff. We only call him his full name when he is naughtly she said chuckling.‘Oh no, the pleasure is mine. My name is Poppy Meadow Pink, and this is my best friend Tallulah-belle’, she told us while she nuzzled Mr Scruff’s nose with hers. ‘Come say hi. She loves to be fussed over too.’ With that, I told Tallulah-belle how pretty she was. She had the most dazzling blue eyes that sparkled in the sunlight. Her mane and tail also sparkled, fluorescent glittery white with tints of rainbow colours. She was dazzling, true prettiness, I told her. She really was. She bent her head down to greet Mr Scruff. They sniffed at each other and then went running off to play in the meadow, Tallulah-belle cantering and galloping while Mr Scruff sprinted in leaps and bounds. Whilst the two of them got to know each other playing, Poppy Meadow Pink and I sat down to chat. We made daisy chain necklaces and bracelets, and floral bouquets for our heads. We spoke about all kinds of things. We both seemed to like all the same things, like white horses, unicorns, cherubims and mermaids, although I had only seen them in the clouds and dreamt them up when drawing them in my sketchbook, which I was now showing her. She said she loved my drawings and that I had a very good imagination. ‘Chance, would you like to play one of my favourite games? I play it when I’m hungry as it works far better. Can I draw in your sketch book?’ ‘Yes, of course, please do.’ ‘So here’s how it works. I think of all my favourite things I like to eat, get an image in my head and then draw it. First of all I draw a table …’ She was telling me while she was drawing. She drew a large table with two chairs either end and then she drew a tablecloth on it, and then she used the colouring pencils. Then she pointed behind me. ‘Look, Chance!’ I turned around and there in the middle of the meadow was the table, exactly as she had drawn it. I looked back at her and then back at the table. I was astonished. The table now had a red-and-white check tablecloth, with golden-coloured chairs with pink cushions on them at either end of it. Poppy Meadow Pink was laughing at my astonishment. ‘I’m glad it worked. That’s how hungry I am’, she said, ‘great game, isn’t it? Do join in, Chance. I’m sure you are as hungry as I am. Let’s draw a tea party.’ I watched her finish drawing a cake stand, which she filled with cupcakes and 7

coloured in every shade of pink, yellow, green, red and blue, then dotted them with sprinkles of hundreds and thousands. I looked over at the table and there they had appeared. ‘Here you go, your turn Chance’, she said, passing over the sketch book. ‘Now let’s see, in my mind’s eye I see a large strawberry wafer shortcake ice-cream sundae.’ ‘Well, go ahead Chance, you can do it.’ So I did. I started by drawing a large glass dish and filled it with a layer of strawberries, then a layer of shortcake, and then some strawberry and vanilla ice-cream and then I topped it with strawberry sauce and finished off by drawing two large strawberry wafers which I stuck in either side of the mountain of ice-cream. ‘Look Chance, there you go!’ she said, pointing to the table. There before my very eyes was a huge pink wafer shortcake ice-cream sundae. ‘Keep going!’ she said, ‘You are very good at this game.’ So then I topped it off with lashings of double cream. I drew some triangle-shaped sandwiches with lettuce and cucumber and salad cream oozing out, and again they appeared on the table. And then I drew a big jug of blackcurrant juice with two glasses and straws and two long handled spoons to reach the strawberries in the bottom of the sundae. ‘Oh Chance, let’s not forget Tallulah-belles favourite. Can you sketch some carrots please.’ ‘Of course I can. Here goes, one big bunch of large fresh crunchy carrots coming up!’ I announced. We laughed when we saw them appear - I had used pink to colour them in! And something for Mr Scruff. I thought a little and then drew him a large bone. ‘Come, let’s party!’ Poppy meadow said as we ran over to the table. ‘Oops. Three things missing here, Chance’ she said. ‘What about a jelly and a party dress for both of us?’ ‘Oh, wow’ I said ‘Yes, that will be great, I don’t think I need to ask you what your favourite colour is, do I Poppy Meadow Pink?’ I thought up two diamond-encrusted long silk gowns in two shades of pink. And drew them. Fit for princesses, we both agreed. And then I drew a large jelly, a lime, lemon, blackberry and cherry one that wobbled as it appeared in the centre of the table. ‘Wow!’ we both exclaimed. The tea party was set. Mr Scruff and Tallulah-belle joined us and we all enjoyed the most wonderful tea party ever. Sat there in the middle of the meadow. It was grand. I looked about me taking in the sights and sounds when suddenly I noticed that the meadow had become filled with pink poppies. Poppy Meadow Pink bent down picked one up and announced whilst handing it to me ‘I now name this poppy Truly by Chance, named after her true prettiness.’ ‘Thank you, oh thank you, Poppy Meadow Pink! I can’t thank you enough for such a wonderful day had in your company.’ ‘Me too,’ she said, 6 ‘But look behind you Chance, it’s not finished yet. We have a guest.’ I turned and almost came face to face with a Unicorn. ‘A Unicorn’, I uttered, barely able to speak the word, ‘a real unicorn at our tea party’. It was as white and as dazzling as Tallulah-belle, with a mane and tail that glistened in the sunlight and it also had beautiful bright eyes, but green, they twinkled like diamonds. And in the centre of its head was a beautiful, silvery, fluorescent horn. It looked so majestic. So splendid ,so royal ,so noble, so magnificent, soooo. ‘Welcome, His Majesty’, I heard myself saying, a title I’d seen mummy use when she wrote important letters. We all introduced ourselves and made him feel welcome. He, Tallulah-belle 8

and Mr Scruff left us to go and explore the meadow and get to know each other while Poppy Meadow Pink and I remained at the table to watch them in all their glory, parading around gallantly, enjoying each others’ company. I sat and drew an impression of them. With the landscape, it was beautiful. We could see the ocean on the horizon, as the meadow was up high on the cliffs. ‘That’s beautiful,’ Poppy Meadow Pink said, ‘you truly are an Artist.

‘Let’s all go down to the beach.’ ‘What a good idea,’ I said, ‘the animals are going to love it, let’s’, so we called out to Your Majesty, Tallulah-belle and Mr Scruff. Poppy Meadow Pink climbed up onto Tallulah-belle and Your Majesty invited me to climb onto his back, which I did without hesitation, holding on to his mane as I watched Poppy Meadow Pink do the same on Tallulah-belle. We left the meadow through an exit, with Mr Scruff leading the way. He knew this walk, it was one of his favourites. We made our way down the lane and out through the warren, a labyrinth inhabited by thousands of rabbits. They didn’t seem to mind us cantering through, they were all so tame and friendly. They didn’t even seem to mind Mr Scruff poking his nose in their burrows, I think they had got used to seeing him as we came this way often to the beach. They just continued busily, playfully, getting on with their own business. We continued riding along the cliff’s edge until we came to the path that lead us down onto the beach. Once we reached the sand, we all galloped off heading towards the sea edge, we splashed along the sea galloping up and down the shore, the sea breeze against us it was truly amazing. We slowed down to a canter, trotting along, the animals all enjoying the run, the sea, the sand and the company. We stopped when we came to a rock pool. I climbed down from His Majesty and thanked him for the ride. Poppy Meadow Pink and I sat down on a rock to look at the rock pool which was filled with star fish and tiny sea horses. And we were watching the animals leap about in the sea. Above, the clouds were swirling into all kinds of shapes, when suddenly out on the horizon we could see dolphins jumping about, in playful dolphin-style. It truly was a splendid sight, absolutely amazing. I took out my sketch book and did some quick sketches as I didn’t want to forget anything. Drew sketches. Quick impressions, quick doodles, all together an expression of how I felt - elated, on cloud nine, blissful, over the moon, thrilled, in seventh heaven -extremely happy, so to speak. 7 When suddenly, Mr Scruff started to bark at something behind another large rock. We got up, careful not to slip over in our long pretty dresses as we clambered over the seaweed covering the rocks. As we came closer we could hear someone singing. It was a girl, a young girl around the same age as myself and Poppy Meadow Pink. She was just sat there in the shallow pool singing and combing out her dark curly hair which she appeared to be drying in the sun. I held onto Mr Scruff ,careful not to startle her. She looked up at us all. I told her not to be afraid, we were all friendly. ‘Oh, hello’, she said, ‘Oh, I’m not

afraid, I like dogs and anyway I’ve met Mr Scruff before, he always comes over to say hello. Do come closer,’ she told us, ‘I love meeting new friends. You all seem so much fun.’ As we got up close, it was then I noticed her fish tail sticking out of the water, flipping about. ‘Why, you are A, m, mermaid’, I tried to say, ‘Yes, and you are… oh, I’m sorry, do forgive me for staring, only I’ve never actually seen a real mermaid.’ ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I’ve seen you before.’ ‘You have?’ I said. ‘Yes, but from afar. You always stay on the beach drawing when Mr Scruff comes over on the rocks to play.’ ‘Oh, I’m sorry that I have never noticed you or I would have come and introduced myself. My name is Chance, and this is Poppy Meadow Pink and this is His Majesty and Tallulah-belle. And your name is …?’ I asked. ‘Prettiness’, she said, ‘Prettiness ‘she told us, as she glimpsed in the mirror she was now holding. ‘I was named after my mother because she is too’. ‘You sure are’, I told her. ‘Thank you,’ she replied and chuckled.’ She looked like a picture of true prettiness, sat there combing out her, dark curly hair. ‘What pretty curly hair you have’, I said. ‘It’s my ‘Fro’, she said ‘an afro’. She continued to dress it with all Mother-of-pearls ,Starfish and Crab claw. ‘What are those pretty things in your hair, Chance?’ she asked. ‘I’ve never seen anything so beautiful before?’ ‘It’s a daisy chain’, I made it’. ‘A daisy chain?’ she repeated. ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘they are flowers.’ ‘Flowers?’ she said. ‘Yes, they grow up in the meadow. I’ve linked them together to make a headdress. Here you are, please have it,’ ‘Oh no,’ she said, ‘I couldn’t, it looks so precious, I couldn’t.’ ‘No, no,’ I said. ‘There are thousands growing, where they come from’. Let me,’ I said, adding it to her already stunningly beautiful head garland. ‘Thank you, you are very kind.’ She looked in her mirror. ‘Oh, that’s beautiful, Chance. I will treasure it for ever. Please take this, Chance. I want you to have my necklace,’ she said, as she untied it from her arm. It was a beautiful delicate string of pearls. ‘No, no,’ I said, ‘I couldn’t possibly take it’. ‘It is so precious’. ‘ Oh yes, please do, Chance, there are thousands where that came from, they grow inside the oyster shells at the bottom of the sea, I want you to have it.’ ‘Thank you,’ I said as Prettiness put them around my neck. ‘Chance, look,’ she said handing me her mirror, ‘You look as pretty as a picture. Pure prettiness.’ ‘Thank you,’ I said. Now I fully understood what it meant. I truly was, and yes, just like my mummy told me.

We stayed on the beach until early evening, listening to Prettiness singing. Her voice was so beautiful, like a, like a Mermaid. She stopped when she heard her father blow into a sea shell, it was time for her to leave. She thanked us all for making her happy and with that she slipped hurriedly and quietly into the sea. She must have swam a mile out under water, before rising to the surface of the ocean to wave us goodbye. ‘Until next time!’ she called out. ‘Until …’ she sang Then she was gone. 10

It was time to leave the beach. I climbed onto Tallulah-belle for our return trip home, Poppy Meadow Pink mounted His Majesty, and Mr Scruff lead the way again, we took a slow trot home. We were all so tired and so content, for our day had been spectacular, a day that none of us would ever forget. We made our way back up the pathway, back through the warren. All the rabbits were now sleeping, as time was getting on a bit. We reached the meadow just before the sun was setting. The birds were settling down for the night; there was little chirping. As I climbed off Tallulah-belle, I whispered a big thank you and goodnight, with a promise to see her again very soon. I then turned to Poppy Meadow Pink. We gave each other a big hug. She handed me a bouquet of pink poppies to give to my mummy, thanked me for drawing up the best dress she had ever worn, hugged Mr Scruff and His Majesty, then mounted Tallulah-belle and galloped off into the sun setting. She called out behind her, ‘May angels guide us always. Good night, until …’she sang. Mr Scruff and I said our goodbyes to His Majesty, as we left him in the meadow grazing. We made our way home along the path. Five minutes later, we were stepping through our back door. ‘Hi mummy, you won’t believe what a day Mr Scruff and I have had, you really won’t believe it’. I handed her the bouquet of pink poppies. They’re new. They are called Truly by Chance. Yes, mummy, after me.’ Which made her smile. ‘I’ve had a tea party in the meadow with Poppy Meadow Pink, and Tallulah-belle, her white horse. We drew it all up in my sketch book. Look,’ I said throwing it open, ‘and then all my favourite food just appeared on a table in the middle of the meadow, and then His Majesty turned up as our guest.’ ‘Oh he did, did he?’ said mum. ‘Yes, Ma, Not that Majesty that lives in Buckingham Palace but a Unicorn Majesty. He was white and glittery and, and …’ I was falling over my words. I couldn’t get them out quick enough. ‘Calm down, sweetness’, mum told me. ‘And then we went to the beach and I met a Mermaid called Prettiness . Look I’ve drawn her,’ I said, flipping over the pages of my sketch book. ‘These drawings are truly beautiful, darling. My, oh my, you truly do have a vivid imagination!’ she said laughing out loud. ‘First of all, young lady, can you please explain why did you take that old nag horse that has been living in that old field on the beach today? One of the neighbours saw you riding that bag of bones. It’s so old, you could have been harmed.’ I was a gasp. ‘Old nag horse’ I said under my breathe ‘bag of bones,’ ‘old field’.!!! ‘Oh, and darling’. Please don’t wear that pearl necklace, that Great Granny gave you, while you are out playing. It’s almost as precious as you are, my prettiness.’ I didn’t chuckle, she frowned, ‘Oh, and one more thing. It’s so nice to see you in that old beautiful dress? You look a picture of prettiness.’ I chuckled as I went upstairs to bed, Mr Scruff following with his red ball in his mouth. Calling to mummy from the top of the stairs. ‘Mummy I think you will find Granny’s necklace is still in your jewellery box.

And please fill Mr Scruffs water bowl. Thankyou. I sang. Sweet dreams doll Nanight. She sang. x