Some South Woodford scribbles from DD, our resident diarist and observer of all things local. Illustrated by Evelyn Rowland
Every morning, my partner, David, reads his newspaper from cover to cover. And then wishes he hadn’t. “Is there any good news to be had anywhere?” I’ve been asking myself. I decided to put that same question to ‘a random selection of people’ (as the statisticians say). So I took my notebook and pen down George Lane in hopeful expectancy.
I kicked off with Sally and Ken: “We haven’t won a million on the lottery, if that’s what you mean. But we have good neighbours, a strong sense of community. We have green spaces and parks. Not headline stuff, but good news for us, all the same.”
Ross looked relaxed, on a sunny seat by the station. He didn’t hesitate: “It’s my family.” I waited. “Our incredible little girl. She’s four. Starting school soon. She was born during the pandemic. I suppose that was an obvious time for reflection. I realised I was working too many hours. Away from home too much. She’s a miniature version of my wife and me. I see both of us in her. You can’t shake off that love. I seem to have done with drinking and parties these days. Does that answer your question?”
“I can certainly help you!” said Mariana, with what I thought was suspiciously like the look of a very proud mother. I had guessed correctly! “My daughter did really well in her O levels. She went through quite a lot of exam stress but gained excellent results. We are feeling very proud. She’s going on to study Maths, English and Psychology at Advanced Level. Yes, we did celebrate, of course, with a meal at her favourite Italian restaurant.”
Stephen and Monita were chatting while gazing at the abundant flower baskets at the Railway Bell. Turned out they were father and daughter. “Aren’t they beautiful!” they said. “Good news? Well, this for a start: fresh air, being comfortable in yourself, working hard, feeling that you are contributing something. Positivity. Talking to strangers, like this. We English don’t talk to each other enough, but when we do, it strengthens us. We realise how much good there is in people.”
Bruce loves his dogs. Two Newfoundlands, one black, one brown. He walks them through the forest twice a day, obviously contented in their companionship. (Good news in itself really!) We often chat. Those dogs are way up there with his grandchildren on his list of favourite people. But now he told me: “Something delightful has happened: a couple of teenagers from up the road have started to come with me on my walks. We decide on a time and they come out and join me. We walk and we talk. They share some of their news, their studies, their hobbies. It’s given me quite a boost to think that young people are happy to spend time with an oldster like me. (And I like to think it’s not just because of the dogs.)”
Reham was expecting a friend to join her at any minute. “Good news? Yes. I’m hosting a bridal shower for one of my closest friends next month. It’s a surprise. I’m really happy she has met just the right person.” Reham’s fellow conspirator materialised exactly on time. Good news for a successfully run party, I thought. “We’re planning our shopping list today, with emphasis on Middle Eastern dishes, hummus, tabbouleh, baklava, a finger buffet. We really value our years of friendship with the bride to be.”
I found Christopher in thoughtful mood. “Yes, happy to talk. I’m looking forward to my second child, a daughter. We already have a son aged two. We always wanted two children. I have been wondering if I can possibly love another child as much as the first. But now I’ve realised, you don’t share out the love. More love and more joy floods in. We are becoming ‘homebodies’. You know: meals sitting round the table, talking, lighting a candle, celebrating how much we have.”
Connie was weighing up the ripeness of the mangoes at the International Supermarket. She had just been to the gym. I put my question. “It’s strange you should ask that,” she said. “I’ve just had my offer on a house accepted. It’s only small but just what I felt I needed. I’m leaving my rented flat and already thinking about the décor, the colours, the autumn planting in my new miniature garden. I’ve been through some rather sad times recently, but now I don’t feel I’m just moving house, I feel I’m moving on.”
Perhaps if you are enjoying a nice drink or a tasty sandwich, you don’t seem to mind when some strange woman turns up asking about good news. Certainly, for 24-year-old Ervis the question could not have been more apt. “I’m going home next week to see my family, after six years.” “And home is…?” “Albania. Good friends here found work for me and gave me support. I’m in the construction and landscaping industry. This is my cousin, Ibrahim. He’s younger than me but we’re going home together. We can’t wait to see everyone.”
I was greeted by a winning smile from 11-year-old Ella, enjoying a pavement snack with her dad and auntie. “I’ve got some very good news,” she said. I thought she was going to tell me about her excitement at starting secondary school. But it was her much-admired older cousin, a handsome 17-year-old she was eager to tell me about. “They found out he’d got a hole in his lung when he couldn’t stop coughing. A month later, he had an operation and it all went really well!” I was going to say a big thank you, but she hadn’t quite finished. There was a PS: “He’s ever so pleased to be back in the boxing ring.”
I meant to stop there, but I’ve got another PS: David has just learnt he’s to be a great-grandfather for the first time before the year ends.
To contact DD with your thoughts or feedback, email dd@swvg.co.uk
