The Afternoon Tea Club

by Jane Gilley

  Eileen put the iron down and sighed. ‘You’re right, Mother, as usual. It’s funny. I love my work. I love helping people help themselves. But you’re totally right. I get stuck when it comes to sorting out my own family, don’t I? I’m good at giving advice but not so grand at taking it. Anyway, we’ve got another Afternoon Tea Club meeting on Saturday. Why don’t you come with me? You started all this lot off in the first place and I’ve got the results back from that meeting we had. I think it’d be really nice for you to meet everybody. What do you think?’

  ***

  ‘Dora? Is that you?’ Yvonne called from her office.

  She rubbed her face and stared bleakly out of the window, even though the view of the hotel garden with its colourful herbaceous borders, two willow trees and pond that attracted squirrels and hedgerow birds was a delight to behold. She tutted, trying to solve a problem on the supplier’s invoice in front of her. Yvonne was getting behind with her paperwork these days. She’d have liked nothing more than to take a breather outside in their garden, with a glass of white wine, for half an hour or so. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually had time to do that and, come to think of it, it had been ages since she’d read a good book, let alone gone for a walk in the lanes with Dora, like they used to do.

  Everything seemed to take so much effort these days. But it didn’t help that their last bookkeeper had left and they’d not found anyone to replace her yet. Was it her imagination or were the staff starting to take liberties with her now she didn’t have the same verve she used to have in her seventies?

  A door slammed and she heard rustling in the kitchen.

  ‘It’s okay, Mum. I’m back. I’ve got the lot. Right, so that’s one thing done. We’ll get dinner sorted out and get them fed first. Now I know Richmond is usually here to give them a talk after dinner. But we can do that between us, can’t we? We’ve listened in on the way he does things often enough. They’ll have the usual mix of cameras, iPads and phones so we can have a chat about what they want to get out of the course, make some notes and that will buy us even more time!’

  Yvonne closed her laptop and started filing her invoices away. Even her desk seemed to be unusually cluttered. She removed two empty coffee mugs and brought the overflowing paper bin into the kitchen to empty, as Dora was putting the shopping away.

  ‘God. Another day’s work almost over. But you know, Dora, I really think I’m getting too old for all this now. This is the fourth time Richmond’s let us down. I mean we simply can’t keep digging photographers out of a pot for a last-minute reprieve, can we. It’s too stressful!’

  Dora poured two large glasses of icy sauvignon blanc and gave one to her mother. She then continued putting the shopping away.

  ‘You’re right, Mother. It’s bloody mental. The art classes are great. The jewellery and basket weaving courses are great. But it is all a bit of a faff, as far as the photography classes are concerned. And you’re right. You should definitely be taking things easier now you’re nearly ninety. I don’t know how you’ve done it all these years. Not that I want to run the place, I hasten to add. But I think we need to put our heads together and work something out regarding our retirement or retirement of sorts. So what do you suggest about tomorrow?’

  Yvonne eased herself onto one of the barstools and took a long swig of her wine. ‘Oh, this wine is rather delish. Hmm. Right, well, we don’t want to lose their business, darling, so I suggest we take them all out tomorrow morning in the minibus, as usual and they can take whatever photos they like. Then we’ll get them back in time for lunch. And then. Um. Well, unless we can grab someone else at short notice, I think we might have to say he’s just rung and says he’s ill, can’t make it, was hoping he’d be okay, et cetera. Unless you have any better ideas?’

  Dora shrugged with a frown. ‘I think that’s by far the best idea, Mother. Right, well. I’ll get the dinner on then and after that I’ll try ringing and texting him again tonight and if there’s still no response, I guess we’ll have to go with that!’

  ***

  ‘Right, folks, so this is the lady who started the ball rolling! May I introduce you to my mum, Veronica!’ Eileen explained, standing back as Taynor wheeled Eileen’s mum to the front of the room in her wheelchair and up a slight ramp they’d fashioned, so everyone could see her.

  ‘Oops, brakes! Don’t want you rolling back down the other side, do we, love.’ Taynor grinned, manoeuvring Veronica into place.

  ‘Well done, Veronica,’ someone yelled and everyone started clapping.

  ‘You’ve made a big difference to my life, you have!’ shouted someone else. ‘I’m loving all this. Never used to get out before.’

  As the clapping faded, the members of the Afternoon Tea Club could see how flushed with pride Veronica was. She was beaming and thanking everyone for their kindness.

  ‘Thank you. Thank you all,’ Veronica said. ‘It was only a tiny suggestion. I never thought it would go as far as it has. But I must say it’s wonderful to finally meet all of you. It seems to be going great guns, doesn’t it!’

  ‘You’ve got me and my friend out of the house to meet all of these people here. It woke us up, in a way, it did,’ said one lady.

  ‘Never thought anything interesting would happen at my time of life now I’ve reached eighty-six. But you’ve made that possible for me,’ said someone else.

  ‘You see, Mother? I told you they’d welcome you with open arms!’ said Eileen, grinning. ‘Right, well thanks for that, everybody, and now let’s get down to business.’

  Taynor gave Eileen a clipboard with lots of paperwork attached.

  ‘Okay,’ Eileen began. ‘Well, the good news is that most of what we’ve asked for has been approved at the meeting. So what we’ve got is this. We’ve got afternoon tea twice a month. And we’ve got it on the first Saturday of the month here at the community centre and the last Saturday of the month at one of two garden centres. And we’ll alternate those. Now, don’t worry about keeping up with me on this because we’ll be giving you all a sheet to keep, at the end of today’s session, with extra sheets for any of your friends. And we’ve also secured two Friday afternoon sessions a month, to help anyone who’s having difficulties with their smart phones and iPads et cetera or wants to learn about computers and the internet. Now, these computer courses are limited because there’s only a certain number of computers available in the classroom. It will be at the local college but you’ll have to ring and book that yourselves, direct with the college. All the telephone numbers you’ll need are on the sheets. Right, on to swimming lessons! We’ve managed to fix the second Saturday of the month for a two-hour session if any of you want to learn how to swim. I’ve got four names down for that, already. Yes, Margo, your name is at the top of the list, love. And last but not least, art. We can do two Friday afternoon sessions a month at another community centre for those of you who want to either learn how to draw or paint. All the venues we’ve decided on have parking and disabled or wheelchair access, of course. Now refreshments will be available but they’re from a machine. So you’ll need to bring fifty pence with you for that. All other information is on your sheets. So just to be clear, the computer and art classes will be on different Friday afternoons.’

  Eileen paused and looked around at the group of people in front of her, allowing the information to sink in. People were commenting in surprise at what Eileen had managed to secure for them.

  ‘Didn’t think she’d be able to get half of what she’s got!’ said someone.

  ‘Well!’ commented another. ‘Isn’t it lovely being able to have a choice about what we get to do? I think I fancy learning to swim but I’ll have to get our Sandie to help me buy a new swimming costume.’

  ‘And finally,’ Eileen continued, ‘as far as trips go, we can arrange either a trip to London each year to see a show, with an overnight stay, or it will be a day out to a seaside resort of your choosing, including lunch in a hotel. There will of course be a c
harge for the trips but this charge will be agreed later on. Now we’re looking into whether there might be additional charges for any of the courses or afternoon tea at the garden centre. But my bosses have assured me that nothing will be prohibitive. And we haven’t got prices for the London trip yet. Right now, regarding the trips, you need to be aware that each of the trips will probably be early morning starts from a set location. So you will need to be dropped off at these locations at the exact times stated because, unfortunately, the coach companies say they won’t be able to wait for stragglers. So please make sure you’re on time for those. We haven’t been able to secure any mini-breaks due to the fact they might be problematic as one of you suggested. But either way we hope you’ll be very happy with all the things we have managed to sort out for you. Right, now in a minute Taynor will come around and hand out the sheets to you all. Now another thing I need to tell you is that we’re going to initially run these courses up to Christmas to see how they go. We might need to change or alter them depending on turnout. If no one takes up the art or computer classes they’ll either be cancelled or replaced by something else. So please let us know by the date on the sheet which courses you or your friends would be interested in. And we’ll need those sheets back by next week so we can start putting things together and getting hold of tutors and the like. Yes, love, that’s a week from today!’

  Eileen stopped to take a couple of gulps from a glass of water. Taynor took over.

  ‘Okay, so just to let you also know, we’ve already arranged a trip to Bournemouth on the fourth of September, which will be our trip out for this year, just to start that ball rolling. The date is on the sheet. And we can do this particular trip for £15.00 including a three-course lunch. The reason we’re arranging this now is to see what sort of response we get. And it’ll be a cracking day out. You’ll be dropped off at the gardens for a meander down to see the sea and paddle if you wish and then lunch in one of the hotels nearby, with a bit of shopping if you’re up to it after all that paddling! And also, once we’ve sorted out tutors and firmed up definite venues et cetera, everything will start running straight away. So I envisage the art classes being the first courses to start up on the third and fourth Fridays of the month. So have a good think about what you want to sign up for and we’ll let you know prices, if any, next week. Then we’ll start. So how do you feel about what we’ve managed to secure for you?’

  ‘Fantastic!’

  The room erupted with people shouting joyously, clapping, banging on the tables and even a couple of sun hats being thrown into the air!

  Chapter 13

  Dora was drinking a cup of English breakfast tea with her mother and her brother in the residents’ breakfast lounge, at their Arts & Crafts Hotel, as Handel’s ‘Water Music’ was playing its jovial tune on the iPlayer. Richmond, the photography tutor, was neither Dora’s nor her mother’s favourite person, but he’d seemingly, of late, got his act together and was driving the photography class to Bourton-on-the-Water in the minibus that Wednesday morning, for a lesson on how to capture reflections over the River Windrush.

  ‘If this music is supposed to wake me up gently, Mother, it’s not working. It’s just bloody annoying after the session I had with Jodie last night!’ Dora snapped, holding her head.

  ‘Well, whose fault it that, I wonder? Anyway this music is supposed to be inspiring for our photography guests. Nothing to do with you, you silly child! Is Jodie still asleep?’

  ‘She wants to sleep in until at least midday, she told me, because it’s so blissfully quiet here. So after we’ve had our meeting, me and Jodie are going out for lunch somewhere. So can we crack on with things!’

  ‘God! Do you two ever come up for air?’ Stuart griped, shaking his head slowly. ‘Look, are we going to talk about things now or what? I was up bloody early this morning to drive up here for this meeting. And even though I love you both dearly and would like to stay a bit longer I really do need to get back to my own hotel. I’m not blessed with time to slouch around like you two.’

  ‘There’s no slouching here, son! We’re your father’s family. It’s not our way,’ Yvonne stated, indignantly.

  ‘Look, Stuart, it’s not just the hotel; my fiftieth is coming up in a few months’ time and I think that alone warrants some thought. But on the other hand, Mum’s a bit of an old croc now and doesn’t want to be doing this forever more, do you, Mother dear?’

  ‘There’s nothing like being disrespected by one’s children!’

  ‘There certainly isn’t, Mother, and that’s why I’m so pleased you enjoy it! Anyway, what do you want to do about things?’

  Yvonne poured herself another cup of tea, offering the teapot to her children. They shook their heads. She glanced around the dining room and sighed. The breakfast things still needed clearing off the tables and Debbie was late in again today. What was it with her ruddy staff these days? Weren’t they motivated enough with better than average wages, six weeks’ holiday pay with additional time off for their birthdays, Christmas and emergencies, no questions asked? Or was it something else? It was certainly getting her down. It never used to.

  ‘Right, well, I don’t want to be a useless old stick at any age. I’m still fit at eighty-nine. I’m not on tablets. If I take up residence in an old people’s home, I’ll be fit for the scrap heap. I had thought about getting a little cottage or a little flat somewhere. But I’m not so sure where. And I think that with your fiftieth birthday fast approaching it’s a good time for you to start thinking about things too, Dora. You’ve been a wandering minstrel for far too long. But I’m not sure it would work out if you and I moved in together somewhere. I think we need to find our own new lives now. However, I will say you’ve been a great help to me and great company these past few years. Yet nor would I want to put on you, Stuart, and demand you leave Devon and come up here to take over things. Other than that, I really don’t know, dear children. What are your thoughts?’

  Stuart shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his hands.

  ‘Okay well, I think it’s probably time you sold. The reason being, I have a life – no – I have a great life in Devon with Hazel and Steph. We’ve already discussed things and none of us wants to move up here to take over this place. You have far too many problems with people like Richmond for starters. He should be ousted as the photography guy and you should either change the course or get a more reliable tutor. It’s as simple as that, Mother. But I think you have to decide what you want out of life, before you start questioning everything and everyone else. And what about Aunt Philippa? Couldn’t you move down there or move in with her? She’s got that lovely big house and that annex and you get on okay.

  ‘Southampton’s still a great city with London a stone’s throw away. That’s what I’d really want for you because then you’d have some permanent company and lots to do in your spare time. Of course, you’re not short of a bob or two, so in all honesty you could live anywhere you wanted, at home or abroad. But I think you need familial company at your time of life and I think Philippa is the best person to give you that. What say you, sis?’

  ‘Well, to be honest, I agree with everything you say, Stuart. You should definitely sell, Mother. And I also think you should move back down south to be near Philippa. You’re both healthy women with similar interests. Dad’s brother is still in the area; it’s where we’re all from originally and I wouldn’t mind going back there myself. Hey, it’s been fun being here. And, sure, I’d miss stuff like sitting out in our lovely garden and the friends we’ve made around here. But the older I’ve got the more I crave family and old friends around me. So, yeah, it’s time for another life change now.’

  ‘You and your changes, child! But this time I actually agree with you,’ Yvonne said, and sipped her tea. ‘Hmmm. Well, okay, I’ll admit I’ve been doing a bit of thinking myself and what I think is this: I will sell. I’ve been speaking to my sister and she says she’d love me to move in because – like you say, Dora, we like sim
ilar things. Plus she’s been feeling lonely and we’re of a certain age, of course. So we’ll probably try that. But you, Dora, you need your own space, a place to call home. So both your immediate inheritances from me, apart from when I finally croak, of course, will be a straight half cut from the sale proceeds of the hotel. And you’ll only get yours, Dora, as long as you buy yourself a little place somewhere with it. In other words, I expect you to finally put down some roots, darling. Okay? I will also give you both these inheritances on the proviso that you come visit your poor old mum on a regular basis, as I don’t only want to speak to Philippa for the rest of my life. And you need to stop messing around with that bloody Botox or whatever it is you’re doing, Dora, because it’s ruining your looks!’

  ***

  Rat-a-tat went Stacy’s door.

  Who the hell is that? she thought. No one ever banged on her door. She took a final swig of her morning coffee, tightened the towel around her wet hair and secured her dressing gown belt because she was naked underneath after her shower. Then she cautiously opened the door.

  The corridor beyond her door was dark because the lighting had failed again, something she’d mentioned to her mother the previous evening, during their first telephone conversation since she’d stayed with them to recuperate. Her mother had rung to see how she liked her newly redecorated flat and to find out how she was doing. Ordinary family stuff that Stacy had never experienced before. At least her mother’s phone conversation proved she was actually interested in her daughter’s wellbeing, now, for some reason. Or had she finally awoken to the importance of family? Her mother told her she would ring every week if she’d like.

  ‘Well, I’ll ring you sometimes,’ Stacy had said, with what she hoped had been a smile in her voice because she actually thought it was going to be nice reconnecting with her mother again after such a long time apart.