by Jane Gilley
‘I locked myself out, John. Was going to see if you had some soup cos I’m p-poorly and can’t get down to the sh-shops,’ she said as fresh tears began to fall.
‘Oh, well! You’d better come in then. I’ve just done my shopping so I’ll be able to feed you and then we’ll, um, we’ll see what we can do about your door. Up you get then.’
He helped her to her feet and then looked at her, with raised eyebrows.
‘You look rough!’
Stacy nodded, not meeting his eyes and shuffled into his flat, her slippers flip-flopping down his hall, as he held the door open for her.
As she sat down on the sofa, Stacy looked around his lounge.
It was a far cry from what she expected, following the day he appeared at her door smelling of stale armpits. The place was completely clean and organised. He, on the other hand, wasn’t. He had a great clump of hair on top of his head that was as unruly as her own used to be, even though it was clipped short at the sides. He looked scruffy and his unshaven face was patchy. He wore a smoky-coloured T-shirt and grubby green-coloured jogging bottoms that were rather too big for him. And yet his flat was orderly and neat. What a strange contrast!
She sat there, unspeaking, as he put his shopping away, humming to himself and made her some soup. Packet soup would’ve been fine, but no. He’d concocted the most wonderful soup she’d ever tasted out of fresh vegetables, his own stock and fresh herbs. They sat down at the lounge table to eat.
‘That was delicious, thank you,’ she’d said afterwards. ‘That’s the best soup I’ve ever tasted!’
‘Well, I do like cooking you see. A little hobby of mine. Would you like some more?’ he said.
‘Is the Pope Catholic?’
She’d had three bowlfuls, along with a crisp French baton and butter. The whole thing was so warm and comforting she didn’t really want to go back to her own empty flat, even though it was nicely redecorated now.
While she was eating her soup John tried her door with one of his credit cards. In the end he had to call a locksmith because his card, which he said had opened his own door once or twice, didn’t work on Stacy’s. ‘Not enough of a gap,’ he said. She realised the locksmith call-out might cost her dearly but at least she’d get back into her flat and, in the meantime, she’d had some nice lunch. Plus John had given her a few bits from his own shopping until she felt well enough to replace it.
It was the nicest thing anybody had done for her in a long time.
***
Marjorie groggily pulled her bedroom curtains back to reveal a foggy, slightly damp morning. It was also how she was feeling. She’d received a phone call she hadn’t wanted yesterday. Plus today was the day Gracie was going to leave her and move in with Steven. It had come round so fast, since Gracie initially told her that’s what she’d wanted to do, after Steven asked her. Marjorie knew she’d have to stop herself from grabbing her daughter and screaming, ‘No! Don’t go!’ It felt far too soon for her to be dealing with the enormity of her daughter leaving, way before Marjorie was ready for her departure.
So last night she’d squirrelled a large glass of neat vodka into her bedroom, to help her cope with the two incidents she was facing. She’d knocked the lot back in a few large gulps. But she’d never been a drinker, so the alcohol hit her hard. Hence her hangover this morning.
The other shocking incident had been the phone call from Lou’s son, Derek, to let her know his mother had just passed away.
‘Massive heart attack, Marjorie. Well, she was overweight. She’d had a couple of little ones a few months back.’
‘Oh God, Derek. I never knew.’
‘No one knew. It was only from speaking to her doctor I found out myself. She was good at keeping things to herself, my mother. Didn’t want to worry us I suppose. Look, um, she’s got loads of photos of the two of you back when you were nippers and nights out and whatever. If you’d like a few I’ll have them packaged up for when I see you at the funeral. Could you, er, would you like to say a few words at the funeral?’
‘Oh, yes, of course, Derek. We’ve been best friends since forever. I loved your mum like a sister. Oh, I’m so upset. It’s such a shame, Derek.’
When she’d put the phone down Marjorie had cried for Lou and raged that Gracie would also be leaving her very soon. Life was positively unbearable, sometimes.
But Marjorie would also admit, to anyone who asked, that Steven had been very helpful with the transition that meant Gracie would be leaving her that day. He’d said she could ring them at any time day or night, if she was worried about anything or needed anything or was ill. And she could come and see them or stay with them whenever she liked. He said he’d do whatever he could to help make the change as smooth and pain-free as possible. Gracie had left the lease in her own name for the time being and told her mother that she’d come over every second weekend to take her for a big food shop, so at least they’d still have regular contact and Gracie said they could go somewhere for a cup of tea and a piece of cake afterwards. That was reassuring inasmuch as Marjorie couldn’t drive and had been wondering how she was going to manage the shopping by herself, even though there was a corner shop nearby.
So some aspects would, thankfully, remain the same after their parting. Plus she was happy in the flat they’d been living in, so she had no thoughts of upping sticks to follow Gracie or move elsewhere. Yet clearly there was no other option but to accept things as they were and get on with it. But, oh, poor Lou. She’d not seen that coming. They’d been friends since Miss Ellmere’s class at primary school. They’d done everything together – nights out, first boyfriends, the works. Nearly eighty years of experiences together!
So even though the vodka in her belly had aided sleep, when she’d finally slept – despite all her nagging worries last night – it had caused a huge headache that morning. She daren’t tell Gracie about the vodka because she didn’t want to upset her daughter by admitting she was unhappy about her imminent departure and totally upset about her best friend’s demise. She would speak to Gracie later, in depth about all that, when she’d come to terms with it all herself.
Before Steven’s arrival, later that morning, Gracie’s bags were packed and ready in the hall. But the sight of them had caused Marjorie to recoil in both fear and realisation that this would be the final severing of the special relationship between herself and her daughter, even though she knew they’d be seeing each other on a regular basis. A tear escaped down her cheek. Oh, Gracie! Marjorie really couldn’t imagine what it was going to feel like living without her daughter by her side each day. Life would never ever be the same again, without her. She could feel the onslaught of tears, threatening to turn into a torrent of grief, as she busied herself getting their breakfast ready.
Marjorie had told herself she would not behave like this because Gracie would be feeling the strain, too. She’d tried to replace sad thoughts with happy ones but it hadn’t worked. She wiped a tear away with the back of her hand. Mustn’t let Gracie see me like this. Mustn’t. Yet she knew this breakfast would properly be their last meal together as mother and daughter because within the next hour there would be three of them in this relationship, even though Steven was truly lovely.
‘Hi, darling,’ Marjorie said as brightly as she could muster, placing scrambled eggs and bacon on the table for them both as Gracie walked through the door and sat down for her breakfast.
‘Hi, Mum,’ Gracie said equally cheerily, but it sounded false.
Marjorie sniffed, miserably, as they sat together to eat. She was not a good liar. Her daughter’s imminent departure felt like the elephant in the room. Gracie took her hand.
‘You okay, Mum? Look, I know this is hard for you, especially with what’s just happened to Lou. I’m really sorry she’s gone because you were such great friends and it makes it even harder for you having to cope with both of us leaving you one way or another, I guess.’
‘Yes, it is, love,’ she whispered, her head bowed so Gr
acie couldn’t see just how upset she really was.
‘It’s hard for me too, actually,’ Gracie admitted. ‘Deciding to move in with Steven wasn’t a decision I took lightly either. I mean, I just never thought anything like this would ever happen to me. A few months back I was even pooh-poohing the idea of meeting someone new, wasn’t I? But I guess that’s how life works sometimes. Stuff happens when you least expect it.’
Marjorie teased her scrambled eggs around the plate until they were too cold to eat.
‘Yes, it’s very hard for me, darling, even though Steven seems just wonderful. And I do understand that life moves on for everyone. But I was just thinking, what if I have to go to the doctor or there’s an emergency or whatever? I don’t know what I would do about all that.’
Gracie took a deep breath. ‘Well, Mum, you know you can ring us with whatever problems you might encounter. But I suppose you’ll just have to get the bus to see the doctor for ordinary things that aren’t emergencies. I mean you’ll have to do some things by yourself like you had to do when Daddy died. But if there’s anything else you can’t manage by yourself just ring us first and then we’ll work it out together. Look, you know I’m always on the end of the phone, apart from school hours. But you can always leave a message any time and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.’
‘Uh-huh okay. But are you really sure you’re doing the right thing, sweetheart?’ Marjorie persisted. ‘I mean you’ve only really known each other a few weeks.’
Gracie sighed again. ‘I know, Mum. But it feels so right. We can talk about anything. We like similar things. He’s gentle and caring whereas Harry always had an eye for a pretty girl. And like you say, time marches on. I’m forty-eight at the end of the year. Plus we’ll be living closer to where I work so that’ll be a big help. That train journey twice a day was a nightmare, especially when they had strikes and I had to get all those buses. And you can come to stay with us whenever you like. Look, Mum, I know it’s a lot for you to take in at the moment. But I really do think everything will work out just fine for us all, if we just give it a go.’
Marjorie had nodded then. Everything her daughter said made sense. They had to let go of each other in order to see where the future took them. It was time. Marjorie took a deep breath and reached forward to give her daughter a long hug.
‘I love you so much, you know, darling. And I guess I know you’ll be all right. I’ll probably be all right, too, eventually. And I’m here if things don’t work out for you, you know. And Steven is just lovely. But I’m, well, I’m just being your mum and still looking out for you. Right well, enough of all this! Let’s finish up here and get ready to say goodbye then!’
***
‘So have you found anywhere yet, Dora? Have you even been looking for somewhere else to live?’ Philippa asked, as she helped her sister, Yvonne, through the door with a bag of bath towels and bed linen.
Dora had driven her mother down to her Aunt Philippa’s with Yvonne’s final bags and belongings to help move her into her sister’s annex that weekend. Dora was staying the night and then driving over to Devon to see her brother Stuart and his family.
This time, the changes going on around Dora hadn’t felt as energising. Probably because, this time, it truly was the end of an era for her family’s business. Her mother had just struck a deal with the woman who’d shown interest in the Arts & Crafts Hotel in the Cotswolds. It was the last of her father’s hotels to be sold. And once her mother was settled in with Philippa there would be nowhere else for her to run home to; so now she would have to find her own bolthole. Dora knew this would be a daunting new experience for her. She’d not had her own proper address since leaving Andy and Lauren years ago. It would feel odd to have her own front door key, once again.
‘Not properly I haven’t, no. I want to make sure Mother gets sorted and settled first and then I’m shooting off to stay with our Stuart for a while.’
‘Oh, you’re such a wanderer, Dora! I don’t think you’ll ever settle down, will you? I mean, excuse me for saying this but you’re halfway through your life with nothing to show for it. Having fun is one thing. But everything gets boring after a while, no matter what you do. I was a bit like you as a girl, you know. But there’s something amazing about putting down roots, getting to know people, having folk over for dinner, being with people you can rely on. Stuff like that. You might remember we moved about a bit with Nigel’s job. He was one of those sales reps. They kept sending him off to work in different areas, which was a bit of a pain because we had to move home each time, too. Anyway, I’m happy to be properly settled now. And me and your mum get on great so it’s going to be good for us to reconnect again.’
Dora nodded, crossing her arms.
She was fed up with trying to justify her lifestyle to everyone, even though she was at another crossroads in life. Oh boy, she’d had a fair few of those! But what to do next? She’d saved enough to go travelling again. But was there really anywhere else she fancied jetting off to? She’d been to most places. Well, she’d been everywhere she’d wanted to go to, anyway. Was there even anyone from all those years travelling she could meet up with again? Probably not. The few people she’d met on her travels were seasoned travellers themselves. But she was sure they’d have all settled down somewhere by now. Should she wait and see what her inheritance entailed once payment for their hotel arrived? Ah but she got on well with Stuart’s wife, Hazel, so maybe she’d wait until she arrived at their hotel and then discuss everything with them.
‘Yes well. You’re right. I have to do something, of course. But I’m not really sure where I want to hang my hat, if truth be known. Not so sure I want to go jetting off again, either, because I’ve done all that. But I’ll have a chat when I see Hazel. She’s a canny sort with her feet firmly on the ground. Anyway, come on, let’s get Mum settled and put the kettle on, Auntie, I’m parched.’
Chapter 23
As the weather chose to be very windy and a few degrees cooler than the last few weeks, Marjorie had decided to occupy the void Gracie had left by having a good old clear-out. She felt she had to do something productive! She couldn’t simply sit down and cry at the emptiness and misfortune of her life, now that Gracie had moved out. She’d decided she wasn’t going to ring her daughter for a few days. She knew she had to give Gracie space to breathe and time to settle in with Steven, without feeling guilty about what was happening to her mother. And by having a good clear-out, Marjorie could start to get the flat ready for her own full-time occupation and bring in things that were to her own taste and comfort.
So that first day she cleared and cleaned the flat. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done what she termed ‘a good honest day’s work’. But she intended to occupy what used to be her daughter’s bedroom because it was larger and brighter than her own. So she changed the bed linen and moved her own little bits and pieces from the smaller room into the larger one. Marjorie felt pleased about doing all that. She left three black sacks of rubbish, unwanted items and food past its sell-by-date in the kitchen ready for taking down to the bins later. She was a little out of breath and certainly very tired that first night, so she had a soak in a hot bath and slept without the fitful tossing and turning she’d experienced of late.
On the second day she decided to remove the black bin liners to the bin shed, outside, and struggled downstairs with the bulky bags because the lift was out of order. But when she reached the bottom she realised that she didn’t know where the bins were actually kept. Gracie had always done that. So she left her rubbish by the stairs while she went out into the car park. No bin shed there. So where did the binmen collect the household rubbish from then? She found the cycle store but there were no bins there either.
She could feel herself beginning to panic. Well, she’d have to find out where it was because she’d be doing it on a regular basis. She started to walk slowly back up the stairs when she spotted someone coming down.
‘Oh excuse me, d
eary, I’m Marjorie from Flat 11,’ she said a little out of breath. ‘Can you point me in the direction of the bin shed? My daughter moved out recently so it’s just me and I’ve just realised that because she used to do the bins, I’ve no idea where to put the black sacks.’
The man smiled. ‘Sure, I’m Terry from the second floor, Flat 16. I’ll show you. They’re down here by the cycle store. On the other side actually. You probably wouldn’t notice it at first glance. There, see. Oh and just shout if you have any other problems. I’m an electrician by trade and pretty handy with most things.’
‘Phew, well thank you, Terry,’ said Marjorie, relieved. She was glad she’d met him. He also loaded her black sacks into the bins for her.
That evening she rang Gracie. She hadn’t wanted to ring her this early into their separation but she was feeling lonely and she’d had a very trying day.
‘Hi, darling! Just thought I’d ring to see how you’re doing? Oh, you’ve already settled in? And he’s making you feel really welcome. Oh, I’m pleased about that. Me? Oh, well I’ve had a jolly good clear-out but I was wondering … You see there’s still medicines in the bathroom cabinet. Ah, you don’t need them. Okay. And I was looking at the boiler to see where everything is. The hot water is set for – okay, I’ll leave it where it is, then. That’s good. Well, I think that’s about it. I’ve met one of the neighbours, Terry from Number 16. He helped me find the bins for the rubbish and he says I can call on him for any problems I might encounter, so that’s reassuring. So, um, apart from all that, how are you feeling about things, darling?’
Gracie sighed on the other end of the phone. ‘Well, it just feels so strange being back here in Dorset, knowing I’m probably going to bump into Harry at some stage. But I’ll jump that hurdle when I come to it. I’m far more together now than I was back then. Harry used to enthral me when I was younger. But it feels so right being here with Steven, now. He’s got this lovely little two-bedroom cottage with a copse of trees at the bottom of the garden and a little brook running through it. It’s gorgeous, Mum. Can’t wait for you to see it. Anyway, we’re off out to sample local restaurant delights. So we’ll speak soon. I’m pleased you’re settling in and meeting the locals. Lots of love. Bye, Mum.’
