Springtime at Hope Hall

by Pam Rhodes

  “Definitely!” they all agreed.

  Percy threw back his head in a hearty laugh. “And those Merry Widows won’t get a look in!”

  ***

  Upstairs in the balcony lounge, Kath and Ellie were just finishing their coffees.

  “So,” said Ellie, “can I bring Gerald, that lovely old chap from church, along to the Grown-ups’ Lunch Club next Tuesday? I’ll bring him myself, because he’s a bit lost since Phyllis went into the care home.”

  “Is he living on his own now?”

  “He has carers coming in morning and evening, but he’s really lost without his wife. I don’t think he can even boil an egg, and he seems to have no idea about housework of any sort.”

  “Poor man.”

  “He’s a real sweetie, though, such a lovely Christian. In fact, let me tell you how endearing he is. He’s had a car for years, and he’s still driving now, although I’m not totally sure he should be on the road. His daughter told me that she was in the car with him the other day when he shot across a roundabout, and bumped into another car. Before she could stop him, he leapt out and ran across to pull open the door of the other car, and promptly told the driver, ‘I forgive you!’”

  “Oh, I bet that went down well.”

  “You’re absolutely right, because when he came back and got into his own car, he said to his daughter, ‘I don’t know why, but that driver seemed very angry!’”

  “Oh, Gerald sounds delightful.”

  “Well, his daughter told me her mother didn’t always think so. Apparently at one great family gathering, where she’d been working around the clock to produce a banquet of a meal for everybody, they were all sitting at the table about to tuck in when Gerald stood and announced that he wanted to say grace. So everyone bowed their head, and he just looked up to heaven with his hands stretched out, and said, ‘Thank you, Lord, for all this wonderful food, which just seems to have come from nowhere...”

  Kath roared with laughter. “I bet his wife felt like lobbing a bread roll at him for that.”

  “She loves him to bits, though. They’ve always been wonderful together. It’s hard to think of them being apart now.”

  “Couldn’t he live with her in the care home?”

  “I don’t think their children feel that’s right for him at the moment. They’re worried that if he’s cut off from his friends, his church, the community he knows so well, he will go downhill himself. I think they’re probably right, for the time being at least.”

  “Well, we’ll look after him here next week. Let’s hope he enjoys the lunch enough to want to come again. It’s a great way of keeping in touch with other people.”

  “Talking of keeping in touch,” said Ellie, moving closer to Kath so that she wouldn’t be overheard, “have you had any more conversations with Jack?”

  “He rang on Sunday evening and we chatted for half an hour.”

  “Lots to talk about then.”

  “There seems to be, but it’s mostly about his work, the operations he’s done, the lack of sleep that drives him crazy. He asks about my job here too. And, of course, we talk about friends we both knew up in London.”

  “But do you talk about anything a bit more intimate? Meeting up, for instance?”

  “No. He’s not actually suggested that.”

  “Do you think he’s waiting to take his cue from you?”

  Kath considered that possibility. “Maybe, but he hardly needs my permission to ask. I can always just say no.”

  “Perhaps he doesn’t want to risk that. Better not to ask than face a rejection.”

  “That sounds like history repeating itself,” sighed Kath. “I couldn’t bear to be hurt that way by him again. I’ve built a new life for myself now. I’m settled and happy here.”

  “And he’s turning your safe, comfortable world upside down...”

  Kath smiled. “Yes, he is – and I’m not sure if I’m more terrified that he’ll cause havoc by blasting his way back into my life again, or if the worst possibility is that he won’t even try.”

  “You are quite a catch, you know, Kath. Don’t underestimate yourself.”

  “I think we know each other too well for him to think like that, and that’s why we’re both really nervous. When you’re nearing your fifties, as we both are, you’re inclined to be rather stuck in your ways. We’re not love’s young dream any more, which means we’re aware of how easy it would be to let our emotions rule our heads.”

  “Oh,” smiled Ellie, “we all need a little romance in our lives. I sincerely hope some comes your way.” She started to gather up her bag then and get to her feet. “I have to go. There’s a prayer group at our house in five minutes.”

  “Thanks for popping in.”

  “Oh, I nearly forgot,” added Ellie, turning back towards Kath. “The Can’t Sing Singers – how are they getting on? Did it all come to nothing?”

  “Far from it. They’ve got themselves a fantastic pianist as their musical director, and it seems their numbers are swelling as all the others here who can’t sing a note hear how much fun they’re having and want to join in too.”

  “Well, I never did! What a surprise,” grinned Ellie. “I can’t wait to drop that little nugget of information into the conversation at the St Mark’s Choral Choir rehearsal this week. Gregory will choke on his high notes.”

  And with a cheery wave, she disappeared down the stairs to hurry home.

  “You lot, pick that up!”

  Shirley’s voice bellowed right down the length of the hall from the stage to the back of the foyer. Heads shot up in alarm, and the group of teenagers at the far end jumped in fright as they realized that the command was aimed at them. They looked down at the mess they had created around them – abandoned jackets, scarves, make-up bags, sweet papers and drinks bottles – as they prepared themselves to look as cool as possible for Hip-hoppers, Della’s street-dancing class. One of the girls instantly bent down to pick up all her own discarded bits and pieces, and quickly stuffed them back into her bag. Some of the others in the group followed her lead, although they were still not sure just where the voice had come from and who was shouting at them. They weren’t used to being reprimanded at all. Even at school, these days, the teachers had an obligation to treat them with respect and politeness. If pupils didn’t want to do something, there were always ways to wriggle out of it, and the staff really couldn’t do much to change that. They couldn’t believe they were being told off and shouted at when they weren’t even in school. Some of the lads looked ready for a fight – if only they knew who they should be fighting.

  “I am watching you,” warned the disembodied voice. “I’ll be down there to give you a clip round the ear if you don’t move it.”

  A physical threat! That wasn’t allowed. Nevertheless, one by one the boys, even the toughest of them, shoved their jackets, phones and cans of beer back in their bags, then they stood around in groups, trying to look as if nothing had happened.

  “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” continued Shirley, who was tucked away at the side of the stage helping Della change into ripped jeans and a top that looked as if it had been made out of a used fishing net. “You’re doing brilliantly, Della. I’m really proud of you.”

  “Really, Auntie Shirl?” asked Della. “This isn’t the sort of dancing I’m used to – you know, the big show spectaculars with gorgeous costumes and money no object – but I think these lessons are working. Did you get a chance to see much of the classes so far today?”

  “I wasn’t around for Armchair Exercises, because I was cleaning up the kitchen then, but I did see quite a bit of Dance Sing-along, and that looked like fun. I mean, they’re a bunch of old crocks really, aren’t they? But they were singing their socks off, and most of them were keeping up with the dancing too. You’ve hit just the right note there.”

  “Did you manage to see any of the tap class?”

  “I had to be in the kitchen then, but I left the hatch
open so that I could watch from there. And there’s another hatch into the foyer, which I had open as well. I have to tell you, what I saw going on there really cracked me up.”

  Della, who was staring into a magnified mirror so that she could make good use of her long acrylic nails to tweak and rearrange each individual eyelash into position, stopped with her hand in mid-air.

  “Why?”

  “Well, you were teaching more than just the dancers in the tap class. You had some hangers-on too.”

  “Who?”

  “Four of the old ladies from the class before. I think they planned it. They stayed out in the foyer supposedly getting a drink from the machine there, but just before your tap class started, they delved into their shopping bags and all pulled out shoes with stumpy heels, a bit like tap shoes but without the metal plates on the bottom. Then, everything you were doing inside the hall, they were trying outside!”

  “How did they get on?”

  “They were terrible. They tried so hard to keep up, and they laughed a lot at themselves – except one old dear, who was taking it all very seriously. She was the funniest of the lot.”

  “Oh, sweet!” trilled Della. “I wish I’d seen them.”

  “I think they’d have run a mile if they thought you could.”

  “Do you think they’d come in and join the class next week if I asked them?”

  “They’re not allowed – are they? Isn’t it supposed to be a kids’ class?”

  “Well, maybe I should allow it to be a big kids’ class too – for those old ladies, at least.”

  “Perhaps you should take a peep at them first, to see if it’s worth your while. Trouble is, if they’re only doing their thing out in the foyer, from where you are up on the stage you’ll be too far away to see them properly.”

  “Do you know who they are? Did you recognize them?”

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen them at the Grown-ups’ Lunch. I’ll keep an eye out next week in case I can spot them.”

  “Tell them I’d like to have a chat with them during the changeover period between their Dance Sing-along class and the tap dancing. And then I’ll think about whether to invite them to join in, just at the back, so they don’t disturb the rest of the class.”

  “You’d better go,” said Shirley, glancing out across the stage to the hall below. “It looks like you’ve got a full house. All those kids out there are dressed like they’re teenage gang members in downtown New York!”

  “Bye, Auntie Shirl. I’ll tell Mum I saw you… and that terrifying voice of yours, it seemed to come from the gods when you blasted those kids earlier on. I might need to take advantage of that again if I have any trouble with this lot.”

  “Just yell for me if you want me to yell at them,” grinned Shirley, giving a cheeky wink in her niece’s direction.

  Over on the other side of town, Gary glanced at the time displayed on the bottom of the television set in the kitchen, and ran his fingers through his hair with frustration. It was just gone seven, when Toby and Max were at their wicked worst. They’d had a long day at school, and by this time they were always overtired and overexcited. At the moment, they were screeching at the tops of their voices up in the bathroom, with the sound of water splashing everywhere.

  “Boys!” shouted Gary, rushing up the stairs from where he’d been trying to fix dinner for himself and Karen. She was always starving when she got home, as mostly she didn’t even manage to stop for a snack during the day. She often said that the best feeling ever was when she opened the front door as she got back home, and immediately smelt the lovely aroma of something tasty cooking in the oven.

  He was running late. He hadn’t finished clearing up after the boys’ tea two hours earlier. For some reason the washing machine door wouldn’t open, and the school jerseys and clean trousers the boys needed for the morning were all stuck in there. The phone hadn’t stopped ringing, mostly about the big design project that was demanding all his attention right now. What must the client have thought when their conversation had to compete with the din of children’s television and two boys duelling with their Star Wars lightsabres blaring in the background?

  When Gary reached the bathroom door, his jaw dropped as he saw the total carnage the boys had made of the room. Dripping bath toys had been thrown out of the bath all over the floor, along with two soaking wet flannels, one of which had plainly hit the big mirror over the sink, leaving a long, soapy stain that was still channelling its way down the wall. The boys’ pyjamas, which he’d left clean and dry, hanging over the radiator, had been knocked to the floor, where an open shampoo bottle had been tossed across the room and landed on them.

  He just saw red. He heard himself shrieking in anger at them, ordering them to pull the plug and get out of the bath. He wrapped them both roughly in big bath towels, while he went to fetch other pyjamas for them from their room. Once they were dressed, he snapped out curt instructions at them to tidy up the mess, which the boys plainly didn’t want to do.

  “You will do as you’re told!” he shouted angrily. “You made this mess and you will clear it up. I can’t trust you for a minute. But you’ve got to learn. You two are grounded for the rest of the week.”

  Bedlam broke out as the two boys wailed with anguish. It was just at that moment Karen appeared at the bathroom door.

  Toby was the first to run crying into her arms, hotly followed by Max, as both boys tried to explain how unreasonable and grumpy Dad was, and they wouldn’t be grounded, would they?

  Karen avoided the question, just as she avoided eye contact with Gary. Without a word, he stomped off to the boys’ bedroom to pull the curtains and put on the nightlight, trying not to notice that the boys were no longer wailing and that there were even giggles coming from the bathroom as Karen supervised the bedtime routine of cleaning teeth and brushing hair. Bristling with frustration, Gary marched downstairs to the kitchen and stared at the mountain of washing-up that was piled high in the sink. With a heavy sigh, he had another go at trying to get the washing machine door open as he heard Karen’s voice softly reading the boys a story once they’d finally tumbled into bed.

  “Have you made a cup of tea?” Karen asked a few minutes later as she walked into the kitchen and surveyed the scene.

  “Not yet,” snapped Gary, grabbing the kettle and filling it awkwardly because of all the dishes below the tap.

  “How’s dinner coming along?”

  “It’s not. I’m a bit behind. Sorry.”

  “Gary, have you any idea how it feels to come back to chaos like this at the end of a frantic day like the one I’ve had?”

  “Yes. I am very inefficient. I apologize.”

  “How can it be so difficult just to get a few basic things done when you’re here all day?”

  “Because I may be here, but I’m working. You know – how you work all day in that office of yours which is designed to be a working environment. I am trying to deliver that huge Denison contract while I’m based at home, at the same time as I’m trying to be babysitter, washerwoman, caterer, cleaner – and a million other things.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Women juggle work and run a house and family all the time.”

  “Unfortunately, you married a man, not a superwoman. Now, if you go and sit down, I will bring your tea and your evening meal just as soon as I can.”

  Her expression was a mixture of exasperation and exhaustion. “Don’t worry.” Her voice was unnaturally flat as she spoke. “I’ll do this. Why don’t you go and clear up the lounge so that we can find somewhere to sit in there later?”

  Seething with resentment, Gary didn’t go to the lounge, but instead went up to his office, slamming the door behind him. This was the box room, the smallest room in the house, filled with the widest piece of equipment – his drawing board, the major tool of his trade. The space was cramped and inefficient. It was impossible to succeed in a highly competitive marketplace when his premises and equipment looked like this.

&n
bsp; He stayed in his room for some time, knowing he was too filled with anger to come out and talk to Karen. Eventually, he heard her call up the stairs that dinner was ready. He went down to find the kitchen was clear, the washing machine door open, the boys’ uniforms were hanging neatly on the rack to dry, and his dinner was waiting on the hot plate for him. He put it on a tray and carried it through to the lounge, where Karen was deeply engrossed in a television documentary as she ate. They finished their meal in silence. He cleared away the dishes without a word, then came back in with a dishcloth to wipe the coffee table. She looked exhausted. Well, tough! He was exhausted too.

  “Come and sit down,” she said suddenly.

  “I’m going up now.”

  “Just for a while, please?”

  He sat down on the settee, leaving the middle seat empty between them.

  “I’m sorry, Gary. I know it’s difficult for you to look after the boys and the house, and get your work done too.”

  He felt the tension in his stiff shoulders melt away at the kindness in her voice.

  “Oh, look, just ignore me,” he replied. “The boys really wound me up tonight, and the washing machine locked up, and I forgot to take the meat out of the freezer for our dinner, and the client from Denison’s kept ringing me at all the wrong moments…”

  “How’s it going?”

  “Slowly. It’s hard to find time to think ideas through and get some original inspiration when my feet feel constantly stuck in a mire of domesticity.”

  “I can understand that. I’m sorry.”

  “And I haven’t done their packed lunches for the morning yet.”

  “I’ll do them.”

  “No, I can see you’re worn out – and I’m just having a sulk. Everyone’s allowed a sulk sometimes, aren’t they?”

  “Can we sulk together?” she asked.

  “I can think of better things we could do together.” His smile was slow as he moved along the settee towards her.

  “So can I, and if I thought I could stay awake long enough to enjoy it, I’d love to. But—”

  “I know,” he said, running his fingers down the side of her face. “I do know. I could murder another tea. Could you?”