Quest for Happiness

Copyright © 2011 by Joan Argenta.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2011906102

ISBN: Hardcover    978-1-4628-5691-6

ISBN: Softcover      978-1-4628-5690-9

ISBN: Ebook          978-1-4628-5692-3

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Philippa Gray was walking very slowly along the sands of a pretty stretch of beach on the Sussex coast. It was late afternoon, and the month of February. Little clouds were scudding across the sky, and a watery sun put a sheen on the sea.

Apart from the doleful cry of a few seagulls, there was no other sound to interrupt her thoughts, which were very tangled and uncertain, and in accord with her heaviness of heart.

Philippa was in her thirties, five feet seven inches tall, and of slim build. She had dark brown hair and eyes, and a good complexion, and well balanced features.

To compliment these attributes, she had excellent deportment, and, therefore, always looked nice in anything she wore.

Philippa was in no hurry, but it was bitterly cold, so she climbed the steps that led off the beach, and stood for a moment on the pavement, contemplating what to do next. A hot cup of tea would be very nice if she could find a cosy cafe. Sylvia, the friend with whom Philippa was staying for a few days, would not be home from work yet, so there was no point in going back to the flat, and just sitting there alone, getting depressed.

Ah! here was a cafe. looking through the window, Philippa could see a coal fire burning in the grate, and the tables had a red gingham cloth, instead of the usual Formica. No doubt hygienic, but nevertheless austere and uninviting.

Having given her order to the waitress, Philippa settled herself comfortably in a chair, and lit a cigarette. She then surveyed the decor and Jacobean furnishings with much delight. The gay floral chintz was a reminder of the ensuing months, always a pleasant thought after winter in England. Not even the thought of summer could erase the chill feeling that engulfed Philippa of late though, in fact, she sincerely wondered in her heart of hearts, if she would ever regain a true zest for living, or just plod on automatically without any real purpose or faith.

The tea and hot buttered crumpets were most enjoyable, strange she had never encountered this place before, must mention it to Sylvia, Philippa thought. She finished her cigarette, picked up her handbag and gloves, and walked out into the street feeling nicely warmed through.

Making her way back to the flat, she made a mental note that she would like to visit the quaint little collection of shops known as the Lanes, before leaving Sussex. Who knows when, if ever, she would return here.

Philippa entered the lounge of Sylvia’s flat to find her with shoes kicked off, and her feet resting upon a footstool. Hello, what sort of a day have you had? Sit down and tell me what you have been doing with yourself. Nothing much, replied Philippa, I looked around some shops this morning, and this afternoon I just walked along the beach, until I became numb with cold, so I went and had some tea and hot buttered crumpets at my leisure, and walked slowly back here".

Sylvia was as chatty as always, and would go on and on about nothing, until you felt the urge to tell her to shut up. Philippa could hardly do that under the circumstances, after all, Sylvia had been generous enough to offer her the spare bedroom, for as long as she cared to stay. The other alternative would have been to book into a hotel, and that would have been too impersonal, Philippa, feeling the way she did.

Are you hungry or shall we eat about eight o’clock? Philippa replied that eight o’clock would be fine, she certainly wasn’t hungry now. Don’t do too much especially for me, but don’t deprive yourself. It’s just that I want to have a bath before I go to bed, and you know what they say about bathing on top of a heavy meal. Alright, said Sylvia, we’ll have soup and omelette".

After the meal, Philippa cleared the table and washed up, while Sylvia sorted out some of their old favourite records, just for old times sake. It was good to hear some of the old tunes again, and they stirred up long forgotten memories. I gave Lucy quite a lot of records to take with her to London, Sylvia said, I had a letter from her the other day, just to let me know she will be coming home for the weekend, shortly, with the girl she shares a flat with. They work in the same office you know. Oh yes said Philippa, that’s nice. Lucy was Sylvia’s daughter, whom had recently arrived at the age, whereby she could leave home without parental consent. ‘‘When Jack died Sylvia continued, she lost interest in everything locally, and wanted to get right away. She was always very close to her Father you know".

The two of them discussed this and that, and finally, Philippa excused herself in order to run her bath water. Thirty minutes later, she climbed into bed, but after what seemed to be ages, still lay wide awake. Should she get up and take a sleeping pill, or lie awake all night, going over the past in her mind, remembering the things that depressed her, things she preferred to forget.

Philippa had travelled quite a bit, experienced much, and one thing she had learnt, was that people are like books, in so far as they should never be judged by outward appearances. She wondered now, as she lay in bed waiting for sleep, why so many of her plans had come to grief.

The next day Saturday, was to be spent with Sylvia, what should they do, where could they go for a change. Philippa’s mentality had become sluggish of late, through lack of interest, and didn’t want to be called upon to make any decisions, but would prefer just to go along with things.

It seemed that she had only just fallen off to sleep, when she was awakened by a knocking at the door. Sylvia then entered the bedroom, bringing a pot of tea, and asking, Did you sleep well? then, Where would you like to go today? If you have nothing special in mind, we could walk to the end of the pier. Yes, said Philippa, that would be nice, and thank you for the tea".

Well, I’ll get myself ready replied Sylvia, I think I’ll wear trousers and a thick sweater. Be sure you wear something warm now, see you later.

Philippa felt no enthusiasm for going anywhere, she could not even be bothered to get up and get dressed. Terrible to feel like this, but she just did.

Philippa had dressed herself in some very smart black and white hounds tooth check trousers, with a sage green sweater as contrast. She sat at the dressing table brushing her hair, having completed her make up. This done, she decided she was ready, but then as an afterthought, she added the final touch. Some coral earrings to match the colour of her lipstick and nail varnish.

As she came down the stairs, she saw that Sylvia was talking to a gentleman, and she just happened to catch sufficient of his conversation, before he departed, to know that he was Australian. There was no mistaking their speech, Philippa had also noticed that he was very well tanned, and wondered how on earth he could stand this cold climate, with its extreme comparison.

Oh, there you are Philippa, shall we be off then? ‘‘You haven’t forgotten anything have you? No, replied Philippa, I don’t think so, I have folded my plastic mac up small, and pushed it in my handbag, along with a headscarf".

They closed the front gate behind them, and walked to the top of the Avenue, crossed over the main road, after the congestion of traffic had eased, and looked for the nearest bus stop, which. was only a few yards away.

Do you want a cigarette? Sylvia asked, I prefer to wait until we are on the bus, it’s a good ride, and so we can go upstairs". Philippa hated to see women smoking in the street, and so refrained from doing it herself. She wasn’t a prude, it was just that she thought it looked coarse. Obviously it didn’t matter to Sylvia, as she had lit one, and was now puffing away at it like made.

They paid the fee for entering the pier, and as they took their first steps inside, Philippa noticed a little girl of about eight or nine. She was wearing a bright red coat, with an ocelot collar, and her hands were tucked inside a fur muff that matched. The child was unusually pretty, and she was walking with a man whose face Philippa never saw.

Although it was cold, the long brisk walk to the end of the pier had warmed them up, and put roses in their cheeks. Philippa felt better than she had done for quite a long time, she hadn’t really wanted to come today, but was glad now.

Sylvia suggested they go into the cafe for a nice hot drink and a smoke. It was self service, as was the rule these days, so they made their way to the counter, and took their turn in the queue. They just managed to commandeer the last vacant table before someone else grabbed it. The coffee was most acceptable, and a better bet in these sort of places.

Where shall we go when we leave here Sylvia? What do you intend doing about lunch? If we don’t leave it too late, there’s a restaurant I know just off the promenade. They serve a good meal, and not too pricey either. At that moment, a deep voice asked, Excuse me, would you mind if we share your table? Philippa turned her head to the right, and saw a gentleman accompanied by the pretty little girl who was walking just ahead of them along the pier.

No, not at all, we’ll be leaving shortly Philippa replied, Oh please don’t go on our account, the man apologised. He sat down awkwardly, for he really could no longer stand there, as his daughter had already seated herself, typically child like, and was making short work of an ice cream Sundae.

The little girl was staring at Philippa with huge violet coloured eyes, that had an expression of sadness. She did not appear to be a happy child, as the normal exuberance one invariably finds in the young, was missing.

Do you like my muff? Jenny, which was her name, asked Philippa, It’s real fure, isn’t it Daddy? Yes said her Father, but it is very rude to force your conversation on people you do not know, how many times must I tell you this?"

It’s quite alright, Philippa said, and yes, it’s a very smart coat and muff, in fact, I noticed it when we were walking along the pier behind you. I never had such a nice coat when I was a little girl, and certainly not a real fur muff". The look that spread over the child’s face, after Philippa’s last remark, was rewarding to say the least.

Sorry to interrupt Philippa, but I think it really is time we were going to find that restaurant, before all the best lunches are off. Yes, we had better be on our way. She felt somehow reluctant to leave this child, even though she was with her own Father. She seemed to need feminine company, or maybe it was just that her Father seemed too engrossed in his own thoughts, to bother talking to her very much.

Philippa was preparing to leave the table, when Sylvia said, Just hang on a minute, I’m going to the ladies room. At that, Jenny asked if she could go with her, as she was always afraid that those heavy doors would lock her in. Sylvia took hold of the child’s hand, and said, Come on then.

Whilst they were gone, Jenny’s Father took out a cigarette case, and offered Philippa one. Having given her and himself a light, he ventured to apologise for his