Helen Pevensie missed her four children desperately, but she had to admit that it was a bit of a relief to not have to worry about them every minute. As she walked out of one of the shops, she looked across the street at a nearby salon. She had never noticed it before and realized it must be new. She mentally shrugged and walked next door to another shop.
After another hour, Helen finished her shopping. Her thoughts were on her children, as they had been ever since they left, and her husband, Henry. When she would see him again, she didn't know. She only hoped that, whenever it was, he would be healthy and happy, not injured or depressed from the war.
As she began walking towards her small run-down automobile, she glanced back at the beauty salon. She stopped in her tracks and thought for a moment. She did have a couple pounds left from shopping, and she wouldn't be needing them any time soon. It had been so long since she had felt youthful, fun, and beautiful. Luxuries like makeup and pretty clothes were scarce for her, and the chance to be pretty jumped around inside her mind.
"I might as well, I suppose," Helen muttered to herself. She smiled, stood up a bit straighter, and changed her direction. She reached the door to the salon, and peeked in through the window. It looked inviting, and there were a couple young ladies chatting in a couple comfortable chairs, so she pulled open the door and for a split second, the smell of shampoo, makeup, and polish wafted into her lungs, but then, as she placed her foot upon the laminate floor of the building, it all vanished.
Everything was gone. The two women, the chairs, the smells of soap and makeup; it was all gone. Her feet, which, somehow, were now bare, stood in thick, soft, green grass. Her old dress, which she had patched a few times and was graying, had been replaced by one of a soft, pale blue fabric. She touched it and sighed involuntarily at the softness and comfort of the material. She then took in her surroundings. Many trees stood around her; their leaves swaying slightly in the low breeze. She breathed deeply, taking in the smell of flowers, the sound of birds, and the warmth of the sun. Helen vaguely wondered where she was, but she was so focused on the wondrous world around her, that the other thoughts were pushed away. She felt thirsty, but just then she heard pleasant drips and gurgling of running water. It sounded as if it was not far off and so walked towards the sound.
As she approached the bank of a small stream, she saw a man kneeling down next to it. He was splashing his face with water, and just when he scooped some up and was about to take a drink, Helen recognized him. She recognized his hair, his form, and his hands. She knew him. She knew him to be the man she loved.
"Henry?"