"Mum! The children are there!" yelled Ms R and ran out of Nanas house. I could see out of the window her plonk herself down crossed legged with three girls and a boy all about her size and all wearing matching blue jumpers and grey skirts or trousers. They seemed happy enough to see her and immediately included her in their game of pass/throw the tennis ball. A few moments later they all got up, raced over to the climbing frame and arranged themselves on it to be joined by a couple of bigger (but not very big) girls carrying younger siblings. I watched feeling proud (and rather envious) that she could so easily fit into that group and slightly guilty that we weren’t able to provide her with that whole little community feeling that living in a block of flats clearly brings. There was more running around and at one point she came running back into us happily huffing and puffing "…just to say hello" while the rest of the gang stood at Nanas gate waiting for her.
She looked to be having so much fun and was an active participant in the group games. My only hope for her was that she wouldn’t lose her temper with them. She didn’t…she lost it with me. She stood next to me and shouted that it wasn’t fair, they wouldn’t listen to her that she just wants to finish the game and they keep walking off when she’s trying to explain it. I asked her what the game was and her answer had us roaring with laughter at the irony of it. Schools. She expected those children, who had spent all day at school doing as they were told, to pretend they were at school and do what they were told. She didn’t get the joke. It was time for us to leave anyway and as we walked away a child called her name to say good-bye, waved and told her to come back soon.
All evening she was cross, she kept saying she didn’t understand why they wouldn’t even listen to her when she had something important to say. And of course, I got the brunt of it.