by P. I. Paris
After they had reached their finale, with Deirdre and Mrs MacDonald shouting and banging frantically, the three of them hadn’t been able to speak for about ten minutes. Laughter is a great tonic, an enormous healer of so many ills. If only one could make the world laugh . . .
The tinkle of the bell above the door caught his attention and he rose when Julie entered, wheeling two suitcases. He put them out of the way and then hugged her for a long time before sitting down. The café was quiet and few of the other customers paid them much attention. He ordered tea.
‘I’ve eaten so much cake in the home that I’ve rather gone off it,’ he admitted when the waitress had gone. ‘They do tend to force it on you at times.’
‘You’ll be cooking for yourself soon, no more meals brought on a plate. In fact, you’ll have to get used to doing your own shopping, cleaning, ironing . . . everything. There’ll be no one running around after you.’
‘Hell, I hadn’t thought of all that! My furniture is still in the room. Perhaps I should rush back and pretend it was all an elaborate joke.’
‘How was it this morning?’
‘Surprisingly sad. I’ve lost touch with the friends I used to know years ago and only have the people I’ve met in the home. Now, in one fell swoop, I’ve left them behind as well.’ She reached over and took hold of one of his hands. ‘Oh, it was all right, love. People were kind and it’s been rather nice over the last few days having a quiet chat with everyone.’
‘But time to move on,’ she said.
‘Yes. And look at you! I see what you mean about your clothes. Talk about practical.’
‘They are a bit different.’
‘New clothes and hairdo . . . new adventure.’
The waitress arrived at their table, so their conversation was interrupted while she set out the cups and teapot. He had often visited and knew that this was the owner.
‘You must be leaving shortly?’ she said.
‘Yes, actually today. My train leaves in just over an hour.’
‘Well, I wish you all the best. You’ve always been a very welcome customer.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, standing up and shaking the woman’s hand.
‘This is on the house. I wish everyone was as courteous and polite as your grandfather,’ she said, before walking away, leaving Walter at a loss as to what to say and Julie grinning mischievously.
‘Shall I pour tea, Grandfather?’ said Julie loudly, picking up the teapot. ‘And have you remembered to take your tablets today? You know what the doctor advised. We don’t want you having one of your funny turns again, do we?’
‘I’ll have less of your cheek, young lady.’
‘Well, you’ve obviously made an impression here,’ she replied, lowering her voice. ‘Maybe the women of Aberdeen need to be warned.’
‘Just pour and I’ll have some milk while you’re about it.’
Their last time together went too quickly and while they waited on the platform they held hands tightly. Each had been such a crucial support for the other. Although they were both strong enough to have no concerns about the future, they both feared this parting.
‘It was good of Amanda to sort out some nearby accommodation for you,’ said Walter, repeating a topic they had spoken of earlier but needing to say something to try to ease the tension.
‘Yes.’
‘You’ll write and ring often?’
‘Of course. And you as well.’
‘A letter a day.’
‘You won’t have time for that.’
‘I’ll always have time for you,’ he said.
She buried her head in his chest and wrapped her arms around him. He held her close.
‘Thank you for everything,’ he said. ‘Without you I wouldn’t be getting on this train.’
‘Well, you can come down from Aberdeen in two and a half hours,’ she said, pulling back to look up at him.
‘To Edinburgh?’
‘I checked it out.’
‘So you could come up in the same time.’
‘Yes,’ she said smiling.
‘That’s not so bad, then. Perhaps sometimes we could meet halfway, if we just wanted lunch or something. Then we could each get home again that day.’
‘Home . . . I haven’t had one of those for a long time.’
‘Don’t forget what I said, about contacting your parents. Maybe once you’re settled and . . .’
‘Respectable.’
‘You’ve always been respectable, Julie. Always. Don’t ever forget that.’
An announcement over the loudspeaker system prevented any further conversation and it continued until his train had arrived.
‘Time to go,’ she said.
Walter only had a small suitcase with him, containing enough items for the few days he would spend with his daughter. His possessions at We Care For You would arrive at his bungalow the next morning. Most of the other furniture he needed had already been bought, delivered and subsequently unpacked by Becky and the family.
‘There’s no need for tears,’ she said, reaching up to wipe them off his cheek. ‘We’ll still see each other.’
‘Of course we will,’ he said, gently wiping away the tears falling down her cheeks.
Then he was in his seat. She looked so tiny and frail standing by herself with only the suitcases for company. A sudden gust of wind blew. Julie smiled, hugging her coat to indicate the cold. He felt such an urge to rush out and take her in his arms, but then there was a slight jolt and the carriage started to move. Walter pressed his head close to the window to keep her in view for as long as possible.
Julie waved. He raised a hand. Then she was gone.
Sixty
‘Hello, dear,’ said Dorothy to Miss Ross, who had just walked into her bedroom. ‘You have had a long day. I thought you would be back for supper.’
Her friend had just returned from seeing one of her ex-pupils but had been delayed on the return journey. She sat down wearily in her chair.
‘So did I. It doesn’t matter. I had a big lunch with Donald.’
‘Did you enjoy yourself?’
‘Yes, it was lovely. He is a very good minister. I always knew he would be. But my goodness he can talk. It’s a wonder his parishioners get a word in edgeways and I should imagine poor God has to make an appointment!’
‘You look exhausted. Sit there and I’ll make some tea,’ said Dorothy, putting down her knitting and going over to switch on the electric kettle. ‘Matron had some exciting news. The manager at the garden centre has been in touch and offered to cover the costs of the line rentals for all of the telephones we use for Pearls of Wisdom.’
‘That’s very generous of him. Word about our advice line certainly seems to be spreading. It’s a good job we’re getting other residents to help answer calls.’
‘This afternoon I gave some more training to Meg and Peg. Heavens, listen to me . . . giving training. Speaking of calls, Ben took one from Walter saying that he got safely to his daughter’s house yesterday and that his things arrived at his new bungalow at lunchtime. He was able to make sure that the delivery men put everything where he wanted.’
‘I think he’ll be very happy. However, the home won’t be the same without him. We have too few men as it is.’
‘Yes. Angus has been wandering around a bit like a lost soul. It’s amazing how they rekindled such a friendship after all those years apart. I don’t think even Deirdre ever found out what had happened between them when they were young men.’
Miss Ross was about to make a comment about secrets. She didn’t. Instead she took off her shoes and massaged her feet until Dorothy came over with two cups of tea.
‘Here you are, dear.’
‘Thank you. When I came in, I spotted Joan in the conservatory with son number two. That’ll be her tied up for the rest of the evening.’
‘I expect so. There aren’t many of us who can rival our Joan for family visits, although I had my Andrew on the phone and he’
s bringing Susan and Olivia over on Sunday. They’re getting on much better and I’m being taken out for lunch. No cost to be spared apparently, although I think that’s a bit tongue-in-cheek, as there isn’t anywhere nearby that’s expensive.’
‘That’s excellent. I’m so pleased for you. There’s been a lot going on while I’ve been out.’
‘Oh, there’s no hanging around these days. Even my knitting has taken rather a back seat.’
They sat in amicable silence for a while, drinking tea and feeling totally at ease in each other’s company.
‘People are already getting excited about this year’s pantomime,’ said Dorothy, relaying items of news as they came back to her, which meant that the topics had no logical progression. ‘The rumour is that Mr Dunn is going to play one of the ugly sisters.’
‘There are some things that you really don’t want to imagine and the undertaker in drag is definitely one of them.’
‘Smiler, I still can’t get used to that name, is coming tomorrow, so that will cheer up Angus. It’s odd, isn’t it, the friendships that people form?’
Friendships . . . it’s hardly the right word.
‘It is. No one can dictate or predict how or when they’re going to meet someone and discover emotions that they’ve never known before, that they didn’t know were possible to experience. It can turn everything you’ve understood on its head, so that you’re left reeling under the implications.
‘I never believed such things could happen and certainly not in such a way. For it to occur near the end of a life could so easily be felt as tragically sad. All you can do is wonder how you might have lived if you had only realised earlier. However, it’s best not to think like that. Better to be grateful that you have had such a relationship.’
Miss Ross realised that weariness was making her almost ramble and so she suddenly stopped speaking. But when, after a while, there was no reply, she looked over and discovered that Dorothy had fallen asleep.
Where have the years gone? Where has the love come from?
How many times had she asked herself those questions over the last twelve months? Some secrets have to be kept because revealing them would benefit no one.
Quietly, she put down her cup and saucer, stood up, then carefully removed Dorothy’s cup from her lap. With no more pressure than if her hand was a butterfly, she stroked the sleeping woman’s hair. It was such a simple thing, yet she had wanted to do this for so long. She watched Dorothy for several moments. As silently as possible she knelt down on the floor and gently laid her head against one of Dorothy’s legs.
Just for a moment.
It would only be long enough to have the memory, something that could be cherished.
Another secret.
Miss Ross put a hand up to her face, resting it on Dorothy’s knee. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of lavender soap, which made her smile. On her cheek she could feel the warmth of Dorothy’s skin coming through the material of her skirt.
The building was unusually quiet, as if everyone in it was holding their breath, everyone except Dorothy. Miss Ross listened to the soothing sound, which seemed to ease the tension in her body, enveloping her in a sense of peace and tranquillity. She had never known such happiness.
Just for a moment.
* * *
It normally took a while for Dorothy to wake up sufficiently to take in what was going on around her. She gradually became aware that Tiddles was in his favourite place and was already reaching to stroke him before even opening her eyes. But it wasn’t the cat, and when she looked Dorothy was surprised to see Miss Ross resting against her leg.
Her friend had been working far too hard and had appeared terribly tired recently. Dorothy had meant to speak about it. She gently stroked the hair, tied up in its formidable bun, unaware that this very gesture had recently been done to her.
Here was a good woman, a decent, honest person whom you could trust to do the right thing. Dorothy didn’t mind in the slightest that her friend had fallen asleep against her leg, but she had been sitting in the chair for too long and needed to move. She called out quietly.
‘Miss Ross. Miss Ross.’
When there was no sign of stirring, she spoke more loudly. Then she did it again and shook a shoulder with increasing force. When nothing resulted in a response, Dorothy put a hand to her mouth, a single tear trickling down her cheek.
‘Oh dear . . . oh dear.’
Sixty One
The church was so well attended for the funeral of Edith Ross that many people had to stand at the back. The minibus had also been full, and such had been the demand to attend the service that Matron had to organise for several cars to make the hour-long journey as well.
No one at We Care For You had appreciated just how highly regarded the retired headmistress had been during her long career. There were some families in the congregation where all three generations had been taught by her.
When the occupants of the minibus entered, they had been surprised to see Deirdre, although they knew Mrs MacDonald had written to pass on the sad news. Dorothy indicated for her to join them and after a bit of persuasion she left her seat. There were so few relatives that the residents took up most of the space in the front pews, as they considered themselves to be as close as anyone to the deceased.
It had been a heart attack, according to Matron. The simple coffin near the altar had a small spray of red roses on top. Dorothy stared at the wood, still finding it difficult to believe that her friend was lying inside, that the person who had provided so much help and guidance was no more. They would never again sit chatting and knitting in her bedroom or walk around the garden in fine weather. They would never share a breakfast, laughing about the runniness of the boiled egg.
The minister, a round-faced cheery man in his sixties, greeted people as they arrived, and when it appeared that everyone was present he went to the pulpit.
‘We have gathered to say farewell to someone who has touched the lives of so many of us, from grandparents to grandchildren. Edith Ross wrote to me several months ago, to put in place the arrangements for her funeral. As ever the practical person, having reached a certain age she wanted to make sure that everything was in hand. As it happened, we met for lunch on the very day that she passed away.
‘I wouldn’t be standing here before you at all if it wasn’t for the extraordinary skill Miss Ross had in seeing the real person behind the tiny part that any of us reveals on a day-to-day basis. I had been taught by her for several years when, at the age of fifteen, I became rather rebellious!’
This admission resulted in some laughter from the congregation who knew him and there was a general easing of the tension that had settled upon them while waiting for the service to start.
‘I know it’s difficult to believe. I had been brought up in a very religious family. It was a caring, fun and interesting family. I think the only thing I could find to rebel against was religion and I did it with passion, turning against the teachings of the church that I had been brought up with. My poor parents didn’t know what to do with me.
‘That was when Miss Ross became involved. She spent a great deal of time with me over several months, listening to my teenage complaints, gently steering me, opening my eyes to what she could see but which I refused to.’
The minster paused to look at the coffin for a moment in reflection and silence.
‘I have never forgotten that young woman who put me on the right path and I will be grateful to her for the rest of my life. I travelled a great deal after my ordination but we kept in touch via letters. Miss Ross was an avid letter-writer and was always interested to know where ex-pupils had gone and what they were doing. Now I’m back in the area where I grew up. Life often comes full circle in so many ways.
‘We continued to correspond once she was in the home and one particular friend that she made was mentioned more often than others. Dorothy, that friend, is going to tell you about her recollections.’
&n
bsp; The minister came down from the pulpit, while Dorothy got herself out of the pew. He gently took her arm to ensure she made it safely up the two steep steps and over to the lectern. She didn’t have any notes, but the lectern had a small microphone and he adjusted this to the correct height before sitting down to one side. The mass of faces looked so different to the audiences she had encountered in the schools.
‘The Reverend McBain . . . goodness, I’m reminded of a story about another minister by that name who I knew when I was a child. He kept lots of hens . . . yes, well, that isn’t something for today. The Reverend McBain has very movingly and eloquently told us about Miss Ross as a young woman and the huge influence she had upon him. I would like to tell you about the person I knew in later life.
‘All of us at We Care For You have been around a while and by that very fact we’ve encountered a great number of people during our long lives. Occasionally you meet someone and immediately know that you’re going to get on. Miss Ross and I were like that, becoming close even though we were opposite in so many ways. For instance, she was a highly educated woman who loved learning and passing on knowledge, a skill at which she excelled.
‘Although she loved to laugh and had a very sharp wit, I imagine that some people thought she was slightly frosty and reserved. She was certainly not one to go around hugging others or showing physical affection. Miss Ross liked things done properly and could be a bit fussy. If I say she insisted on loose tea, you get the idea.’
This caused a murmur of laughter and a few nodding heads.
‘Underneath that apparently stern surface was the most loyal, steadfast and trustworthy person I have ever met, someone who would endure huge personal sacrifice to help a friend . . . as indeed she did for me.’
Dorothy stopped for a moment to take out her handkerchief and blow her nose. The church was silent and the congregation spellbound, hanging on to every word she said.
‘As we have heard from the minister, Miss Ross was a great inspiration to others. I could not possibly have believed a few months ago that I would visit schools and talk to students as I have been doing. It is even more unbelievable that they would want to hear me! Much of this “new career” of mine is because of my dear friend.
