‘Oasis’ by Elisa Hill

The busy, bustling, old woman tried not to meet the eyes of people passing her. She was on a mission and determined not to be distracted. "Won’t be drawn," she muttered. It was a snowy day and she was hurrying through a busy shopping centre - a comical figure - small, like a busy gerbil or mouse.
A young mum sat down on a bench. Her children had been taken to the park by her parents, so she could buy a few more gifts, without them seeing what they were going to have for Christmas. Her feet were aching and she knew she had at least twenty minutes before her peace was interrupted again.
As she sank down, she saw the strange figure, a small woman who seemed to have the weight of the world on her hunched shoulders. She reminded her of Hilda Ogden and was surprised when the woman sank down next to her. She smiled at her. A smile which was received with a suspicious look from under a large woolly hat. "Oh well," she thought to herself, "I have sat here to get some peace not to get into a conversation."
"You got kids?"
The voice surprised her, as it did not seem to come from the woman directly. She turned to look. The woman was staring straight ahead. She looked round but no one else was near enough to have spoken. She looked straight ahead herself and said quietly, "Yes, three, all under five, never a dull moment!'
The busy world was passing them by. It was like they were on an island in a busy waterway. There was a perfect calm were they both sat. She knew she should be battling her way through the crowds to the toy shop, but just felt she could not drag herself away from this peaceful place,
Silence again. She wondered about this woman, "Who is she?"
Her appearance gave nothing away. She looked like thousands of other old ladies. She knew she must look exactly what she was - just a busy mum.
There was something comfortably predictable about that. Each knew their own roles. “Had this woman been like her twenty or thirty years ago?” Often she had noticed older ladies smiling at her when one of the children was throwing a tantrum. It had annoyed her until one of them had said, "You poor thing" and she had realised that the woman had once had to deal with the same thing.
"I’m busy too today" the disembodied voice again, "trying to find some freesias out "
In a rush, almost as if she didn't want to say it, she heard an exasperated sigh. "I always do it , I always do it," came the barely audible whisper.
"I love freesias," said the younger woman in a lazy drawl. She was comfortable now; even the biting cold was not affecting her. Even the agitation of the old lady was not getting through too her.
"Why do I talk to people? She would be so angry - me wasting time this way. I have to keep focused, remember what I’m doing."
The young woman's asked, without thinking, "Who would be angry with you?" and knew this was a mistake immediately as the old woman withdrew into herself. There was silence, a long, long silence until the young woman forgot about her neighbour and started texting on her mobile. Her friend had sent her a joke and she gently laughed to herself.
"You live near me."
The young mum just nodded,
"Mine is the big house at the end of your road."
She nodded again, as her youngest daughter arrived. The girl smiled shyly at the old lady whose whole face broke into a brilliant smile in return. Her mother was so surprised, then her attention was taken by the other two children and her parents arrival,
"Here she is," said Grandma," I thought we had lost her."
The old lady was forgotten. They all went home and left the rest of the shopping until another day.
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The young woman was tidying up after a very busy weekend, when there was a ring on the door. Her heart sank as her husband had been made redundant just after Christmas and she had to fend off debt collectors. They were having to give up the house as they could not afford the mortgage. There were boxes everywhere. She opened the door, and rather than the officious bailiff she had expected, there was a smiling man in a suit, with a briefcase.
"Hello, are you Mrs Jones, we’ve had a hard job finding you."
"Been here for years," she said, still confused, by his friendly manner.
"Could I come in?" he asked.
"Please do,” she said, even though they had been told never to let a baliff in the house,"
"As I said we have had a hard job finding you."
"The other bailiffs don’t seem to have a problem."
The man looked puzzled. "I’m not a debt collector or bailiff, Mrs Jones, I’m a solicitor from Broadbent and Saunders. I’m James Saunders. I’m dealing with the estate of Miss Violet Edgerton, who died several months ago." He stood up as her husband came in, and shook hands with him.
Her husband was just as stunned as she was. "What’s this about?” he asked.
“I’m so sorry, Mr and Mrs Jones, this must be very confusing for you. There are a few questions I need to ask just to confirm you are the person I am looking for. Do you have three children under five and one of them a daughter of about two?”
"Yes," she said, as her two year old wandered in and smiled shyly at the stranger and was quickly ushered out by her grandma.
"And you have lived here for several years?"
"Yes"
“Do you remember talking to an old lady in town several months ago, just before Christmas?"
"No… except for an old lady on a bench. I was just taking a break from the Christmas shopping … we hardly spoke, " she said, turning to her husband.
"Well you and your daughter made quite an impression on Miss Edgerton; and as she had no living relations, she has left her house to you!"