Today was the day Lisa’s life was going to change. That was why she hadn’t been able to sleep the previous night, or managed to eat any breakfast that morning. It crossed her mind to go back into the house, but it was time. She’d had enough of taking baby steps. It was now or never.
She was determined to make her life better. She’d joined Facebook three years earlier to set up a fan-based group for the one thing she felt passionate about. Laurel and Hardy. She’d built a page called The Arthur Stanley Jefferson Fan Club after Stan Laurel’s real name, but she didn’t want to launch the page until she considered herself more of an expert than she already was and she hadn’t yet brought herself to invite any of her thirty-seven friends to like the page.
She’d seen all the films and documentaries many times and she was only a train ride away from the Laurel and Hardy museum at Ulverston where Stan was born. A visit to the museum would give her all the information she needed to run the page, but she’d never taken the short train journey to Ulverston because of one thing.
Agoraphobia.
Whenever she left the house in the past, she felt ill. Her legs would shake, her hands would sweat. She had done anything to avoid going out and more importantly, she’d done anything to avoid people. But that had changed. She’d stopped ordering her weekly shopping online and started going to the supermarket herself and she’d even started walking her neighbour’s dog. If she ran out of anything at home, she went to the local shop instead of waiting until her next supermarket trip. And now, she felt as though she was ready for the most important journey of her life.
As she stepped onto the pavement, she took a deep breath and leant against the hedge for a moment to steady herself, ignoring the fact that the prickly leaves were digging into her back. She counted to three. 1-2-3 but the postman was walking along the road on the opposite side, pointing at her and laughing as he walked by. She knew this was in her head and the postman wouldn’t really laugh at her, but this was how she always felt whenever she came across anybody. She counted to three once more, took another deep breath, then made her first step on her journey.
She stepped onto the train and walked to the back of the carriage so she could sit a few rows behind everyone else. To her right, she noticed a young man. He was fidgeting in his seat, occasionally looking at her, then he quickly looking away. He was in his mid-twenties, dressed in a black coat, jeans, blue trainers and red socks. He had a side-parting and his nose was a little beak shaped, and slightly too big for his face, but there was something about him that made her keep glancing over to him, while hoping he wouldn’t notice. She half hoped he might speak to her, but was thankful he didn’t.
The train drew closer to her destination. She sat on the edge of her seat, worried she might miss her stop. When she saw the sign for Ulverston, she jumped up and made her way to the doors.
As she left the station, instead of feeling terrified as she thought she would, an overwhelming sense of achievement came over her. No matter what happened from that moment, she had made it to Ulverston on her own. She took a deep breath and set off for the museum, her confidence growing with each step. She was so excited to be going there, being around strangers did not worry her as much as it normally did.
Wandering around the museum, she felt at home among the photos and posters, the memorabilia, letters and the costumes. It gave her plenty of ideas for her fan page, Today was quickly becoming the best day of her life.
The film, The Music Box, was showing on the big screen in the theatre. It made her laugh so loudly, she almost forgot where she was. When it had finished, she realised she had spent three hours in the museum. It was time to leave and make her way back home.
Once on the train, she noticed a familiar face: the man with the side-parting and, in a bold move that surprised her, she went to sit across the aisle from him. His head turned several times as is if he was going to speak to her, but the train was almost at Milnthorpe by the time he said, “Did you enjoy the museum?”
Her heart jumped. Not only because a stranger was talking to her, but also because he knew where she’d been.
“How did you ...”
“I saw you in there.”
Lisa smiled. There wasn’t anything scary about him and he was also a Laurel and Hardy fan.
“I sat a few rows behind you during The Music Box.”
“It’s one of my favourites,” she said.
“Mine too. But the best one for me is Busy Bodies.”
Lisa smiled again. ‘Going off the shorts, I have to agree with you. My favourite film is Way Out West.”
He nodded. “‘It’s a classic, but mine is Bohemian Girl.”
There was a moment’s silence as Lisa fidgeted in her seat, wracking her brain for something to say. Of course, her Facebook page. “I’ve set up a fan page, if you’d like to join it. I haven’t added anyone to it yet because I wanted to go to the museum first.”
“This was your first trip?”
“Yes. You?”
“I’ve lost count.”
“Well, your knowledge must be as good as mine then.” Maybe one day soon, she might be brave enough to ask him if he wanted to help with the page, but for today, it was enough that she’d made a new friend. Today had been a huge step. She couldn’t wait to get home and organise her notes for the fan page.
Above all, she couldn’t wait to see Adam again.
Image: Jo Knopf, Pixabay
She was determined to make her life better. She’d joined Facebook three years earlier to set up a fan-based group for the one thing she felt passionate about. Laurel and Hardy. She’d built a page called The Arthur Stanley Jefferson Fan Club after Stan Laurel’s real name, but she didn’t want to launch the page until she considered herself more of an expert than she already was and she hadn’t yet brought herself to invite any of her thirty-seven friends to like the page.
She’d seen all the films and documentaries many times and she was only a train ride away from the Laurel and Hardy museum at Ulverston where Stan was born. A visit to the museum would give her all the information she needed to run the page, but she’d never taken the short train journey to Ulverston because of one thing.
Agoraphobia.
Whenever she left the house in the past, she felt ill. Her legs would shake, her hands would sweat. She had done anything to avoid going out and more importantly, she’d done anything to avoid people. But that had changed. She’d stopped ordering her weekly shopping online and started going to the supermarket herself and she’d even started walking her neighbour’s dog. If she ran out of anything at home, she went to the local shop instead of waiting until her next supermarket trip. And now, she felt as though she was ready for the most important journey of her life.
As she stepped onto the pavement, she took a deep breath and leant against the hedge for a moment to steady herself, ignoring the fact that the prickly leaves were digging into her back. She counted to three. 1-2-3 but the postman was walking along the road on the opposite side, pointing at her and laughing as he walked by. She knew this was in her head and the postman wouldn’t really laugh at her, but this was how she always felt whenever she came across anybody. She counted to three once more, took another deep breath, then made her first step on her journey.
She stepped onto the train and walked to the back of the carriage so she could sit a few rows behind everyone else. To her right, she noticed a young man. He was fidgeting in his seat, occasionally looking at her, then he quickly looking away. He was in his mid-twenties, dressed in a black coat, jeans, blue trainers and red socks. He had a side-parting and his nose was a little beak shaped, and slightly too big for his face, but there was something about him that made her keep glancing over to him, while hoping he wouldn’t notice. She half hoped he might speak to her, but was thankful he didn’t.
The train drew closer to her destination. She sat on the edge of her seat, worried she might miss her stop. When she saw the sign for Ulverston, she jumped up and made her way to the doors.
As she left the station, instead of feeling terrified as she thought she would, an overwhelming sense of achievement came over her. No matter what happened from that moment, she had made it to Ulverston on her own. She took a deep breath and set off for the museum, her confidence growing with each step. She was so excited to be going there, being around strangers did not worry her as much as it normally did.
Wandering around the museum, she felt at home among the photos and posters, the memorabilia, letters and the costumes. It gave her plenty of ideas for her fan page, Today was quickly becoming the best day of her life.
The film, The Music Box, was showing on the big screen in the theatre. It made her laugh so loudly, she almost forgot where she was. When it had finished, she realised she had spent three hours in the museum. It was time to leave and make her way back home.
Once on the train, she noticed a familiar face: the man with the side-parting and, in a bold move that surprised her, she went to sit across the aisle from him. His head turned several times as is if he was going to speak to her, but the train was almost at Milnthorpe by the time he said, “Did you enjoy the museum?”
Her heart jumped. Not only because a stranger was talking to her, but also because he knew where she’d been.
“How did you ...”
“I saw you in there.”
Lisa smiled. There wasn’t anything scary about him and he was also a Laurel and Hardy fan.
“I sat a few rows behind you during The Music Box.”
“It’s one of my favourites,” she said.
“Mine too. But the best one for me is Busy Bodies.”
Lisa smiled again. ‘Going off the shorts, I have to agree with you. My favourite film is Way Out West.”
He nodded. “‘It’s a classic, but mine is Bohemian Girl.”
There was a moment’s silence as Lisa fidgeted in her seat, wracking her brain for something to say. Of course, her Facebook page. “I’ve set up a fan page, if you’d like to join it. I haven’t added anyone to it yet because I wanted to go to the museum first.”
“This was your first trip?”
“Yes. You?”
“I’ve lost count.”
“Well, your knowledge must be as good as mine then.” Maybe one day soon, she might be brave enough to ask him if he wanted to help with the page, but for today, it was enough that she’d made a new friend. Today had been a huge step. She couldn’t wait to get home and organise her notes for the fan page.
Above all, she couldn’t wait to see Adam again.
Image: Jo Knopf, Pixabay