Phase Four

Maureen peered out from behind her mother’s long skirt. Everything here was alien; all the girls running around wore the same white blouse and bottle-green skirt she had on, the same knee-high socks, but they shouted and screeched like she never did. She watched one of them pull another’s long, dangling plait.

“This is school, darling.” said her mother.

“It’s horrible. I don’t want to go!” said Maureen.

Her mother prised Maureen’s fingers from her clothing and stooped down to meet her gaze. Maureen grabbed onto the heart-shaped locket that dangled around her neck instead. “You have to go, darling. This is phase one. You’re a big girl now!”

“I’m not! You’re a big girl. You stay here and I’ll go home.”

Her mother laughed. “You are a funny girl, Maurie. After all these years without a sister, you should be happy to meet some new girls!”

A bold-faced girl came running over. Her hair was coming loose from her ponytail and some of it stuck to her face, but she didn’t seem to mind. Maureen didn’t like her.

“I’m Tina.” said the girl.

Maureen said nothing.

“What’s your name?”

“My name is Maureen and I hate school!”

The girl smiled. “Is it because you don’t have any friends?” She grabbed Maureen’s hand and gripped it tightly. “I’ll be your friend!”

“Won’t!”

“Will so.” laughed the girl and pulled her towards the crowd.

---

Maureen watched the blue door swing closed behind the doctor. Her mother was gone; the cancer had been even quicker than they’d said. It was terrible to die at forty-two, barely into phase three.

A sob caught in her throat; if she’d hung on just a little longer, she could have made it to the wedding.

“We should have brought the wedding forward.”

“Shhh. You and Brian weren’t to know.” Tina took her hand and led her quietly out of the hospital.

A week later, a package arrived with some of her mother’s possessions. The clothes she’d been wearing, that last day at the hospital: a jade cardigan, white blouse and long black skirt. And the heart-shaped locket.

Maureen wore it to the wedding, and again at Brian’s funeral, twenty years later.

---

Maureen shuddered awake, taking a moment to come back to the present. Tina was in a world of her own, staring out of the window at miles of strong, young conifers.

“They say the view is very nice.”

“Hmm?” Tina stirred and glanced over at her best friend.

“I said, the view is supposed to be lovely.”

“Oh. We should have gone out on the lash once more.”

“I’m sure they’ll let us have a drink up there.”

The train shuffled up the mountain. It was bit past it, like the women felt themselves to be. Having finally reached the grand old age of 50, they had completed phase three and were on their way to the top for phase four.

It was only this morning they’d realised they weren’t exactly clear on what phase four entailed. You went there on the first Tuesday of the month after that fateful birthday; that was it. It wasn’t as though anyone came back to describe it to you. How could they? There weren’t any trains down the mountain. The trains were old. They were scrapped on arrival.

“I mean”, Maureen said, “would it have killed them to tell us what was going on? I’m not disagreeing with it. Obviously, we’re too old for down there now. It’ll be nice to get away from the young ones, frankly. But what are we going to do up there?”

She played with the locket around her neck.