Open Door
A soft coo sounded as Annabel was placed in her cot, asleep and unaware of what was to happen. She responded to the noise with a smile, snuggling into the soft pillow and blankets that awaited her.
The evening dusk disappeared from the nursery with the steady, flickering flame of the fireplace. It grew brighter, almost like a beacon, and lit the room so that it was reflected in the clear windowpane- the one which looked out onto the front door, the lane itself, and Miss Lark's front gate. Stretched across them was the warm glow of the nursery, the far end reflecting the open door that had been left ajar when putting Annabel to bed.
The dominoes had been left in their cardboard pack from earlier that morning, one still sitting atop the castle that Michael had built. As for Jane, she had been left a pearl ring that had travelled all the way from the bottom of the ocean- the dance that they had attended there. It happened to fit her perfectly.
The children hardly seemed to notice as they tumbled into the nursery, crying and shouting. They saw the flickering flames, the way they reflected the two nurseries. One being the room they stood in, the other stretching across the window, far into the world beyond. A place they could not follow.
Jane and Michael stood in the open doorway, looking out into the Other. There she went, as calmly and as quickly as she always walked. Roses, a parting present from Bert, still clasped within her hand.
Pleading, they asked her to come back, hands pressed against the glass. Their horror displayed for the street below to see, the people who waited there. But they were not looking at the children. This strange but charming group were watching the Other Nursery. The one that stretched with the light and ended where it grew dark, its door opening as she approached.
As if she could hear their plea, she turned to them one last time, a smile offered. Affectionate, apologetic, emotions in her clear blue eyes that lay beyond them and their understanding. Then, opening her umbrella, she was pulled backward into the darkness of night that lay behind the door. Stars twinkling, they were the only comfort in the black void.
Calling her name, they hoped she heard them. Their father told them there was a shooting star in the sky; their mother told them that the nanny had left yet again. No notice, no adieu.
Mr Banks wished for a raise at the bank. Mrs Banks wished for a nanny that would stay when she needed them. As for Jane and Michael, they wished to remember. And Mary Poppins heard them.
The shooting star, as it ascended to the heavens, seemed to wink at the children. It did not compensate for what they had lost but they were comforted. For she knew. Mary Poppins always knew.
We're getting really close to catching up with what I've already written, which is why updates have gradually slowed down. Once we do, the updates will be here and there but still fairly regular. Just in case you were wondering where I keep disappearing to. I shouldn't take more than a few days.