How To Throw Your Life Away

by Laurie Ellingham

  Katy stood over him. ‘I’ve called the police,’ she said in a voice she didn’t recognise. ‘They will be here any second.’

  Close up, there was something boy-like about the man. He seemed both old and young at the same time. His t-shirt hung from his body in a way that made him look ill rather than wiry.

  His hollow glassy eyes stared up at Katy for a moment before he scurried backwards across the floor, only twisting and standing when he was out of Katy’s reach. He sprinted towards the doors at the other end of the shop.

  ‘YOU’LL BE DEAD SOON OLD WOMAN. I’LL GET WHAT I DESERVE THEN,’ he shouted as he disappeared.

  Katy turned towards the counter and looked over the edge. Mary hadn’t moved from the floor where she’d fallen.

  ‘Are you okay, Mary?’

  Mary face remained blank as if she hadn’t heard Katy’s voice.

  ‘Mary it’s me, Katy.’ Katy crouched to the cool cement floor and scrambled under the counter, pushing the stall away so that she could sit next to Mary. ‘Mary I’m going to call an ambulance. I think it’s best you stay still until it gets here.’

  Mary’s icy hand shot out and gripped her wrist. ‘No,’ she croaked. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Have you really called the police?’ Mary asked.

  ‘No. I didn’t know what else to say to make him leave, but I’ll call them now.’

  ‘Please don’t,’ Mary said, ‘he’s my son.’

  Katy’s mouth dropped open. What did she say to that? She stared at Mary’s pale face, and her papery skin now damp with tears. She smelled of flowery perfume and the cucumber hand cream that she kept by the till.

  ‘I know what you’re are thinking,’ Mary nodded, her face staring straight ahead. ‘How could a son treat his mother like that? Well it’s not his fault. Jonny has a drug addiction. He comes by every so often, and despite my better judgement I give him what money I can.’ Mary swallowed and turned her head towards Katy’s.

  ‘Here, help me up,’ she said, holding out her thin arms for Katy to take.

  Katy scrambled to her feet , and with as much care as she could, she lifted Mary to her feet.

  ‘Thank you,’ Mary said, rearranging her long green apron so it fell back into place. ‘Would you be a dear and help me to the kitchen? I think I need a cup of tea.’

  ‘Of course,’ Katy replied. ‘You stay here, I’ll make one for you.’

  ‘No dear. I want to put my feet up on the sofa,’ Mary said.

  Katy shuffled her feet and held onto Mary’s arm as the pair moved in slow motion towards the back of the building and into a rectangular room with a sofa and a computer and desk at one end, and a table with two chairs and a kitchen area at the other.

  Katy guided Mary onto the sofa and moved over to the counter, filling the kettle with water and flicking the switch to boil.

  ‘They say you’re not supposed to give them money,’ Mary said after the bubbling noise from the kettle had stopped. ‘Drug addicts. It enables them, or so my daughter Julie tells me. But Jonny is my youngest and I hate to see him looking so thin. I always hope he’ll use some of the money to get a decent meal. He’ll never stay long enough to let me cook him anything.’

  ‘Is he always so...,’ Katy searched for the right word, and realised with a flash of horror what it was: ‘aggressive?’

  Mary shook her head. ‘No. I’ve never seen him like that. Somehow he found out that Kelley’s are trying to buy Green Tips and turn it into one of their supermarket megastores.’

  Katy handed Mary a steaming cup of tea before carrying one for herself to the table and sitting down.

  ‘Are they really?’

  ‘They’ve been trying to get me to sell up for years. They first tried back when Arthur got his bowel cancer, and then again the year he died. I’ve said no in as many ways as I know how, but they keep coming back offering more money. They just don’t get it,’ Mary paused to take a sip of her tea.

  ‘Ah that's better, thank you, dear.’

  Katy lifted her own cup to her lips and noticed the tremor in her hands and the goose bumps on her arms, despite the humid morning. She took a sip of tea and a deep breath in.

  For the third time in just over a week she’d snapped, acted on something raw and burning inside of her, far away from logic and thought, but this time it felt different. This time she’d put herself in danger too. And she would do it again, Katy realised, without the same regret or mortification she’d felt with the previous times.

  ‘Green Tips started as a table outside our house,’ Mary said, ‘did I ever tell you that?’

  Katy shook her head.

  ‘Just a few left over tomatos and things we had going spare from the allotment my father gave us as a wedding gift. People would leave some money in a pot and take what they wanted.

  ‘We were seventeen. Rain, shine and even a few thunder storms we’d be out there digging up our little patch of earth. I don’t think either of us really knew what we were doing that first summer, but we sure did laugh a lot.

  ‘Every time an allotment came up we’d take it, until we had the whole place. People would come on a Saturday morning from all over town to buy their vegetables. Then in 1960 when my eldest, Julie, was just a bundle of blankets in my arms, Mr Fielding the farmer who owned the land, offered to sell it to us with two more fields. We begged, borrowed and all but stole from our families and friends to make Green Tips into the garden centre you see today.

  ‘Arthur chased those men off from Kelley’s when he could barely stand. This was his baby and our livelihoods. He’d never have sold it to the highest bidder to be made into flats or a supermarket, so neither will I. Even if it makes me a selfish mother.’

  ‘But Jonny said he’d sell it anyway when you...,’ Katy paused.

  ‘Die,’ Mary laughed. ‘The men from Kelley’s say the same thing, and they’re right. The minute they lay me to rest next to Arthur, the children will sell this place without much more than a second thought. Green Tips was mine and Arthur’s dream, not theirs.’

  ‘But if you know it’s going to be sold when you’re gone, why not sell it now and enjoy the money? Travel the world’

  ‘At my age? I don’t think they give passports out to the likes of me,’ Mary smiled. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been trying to find someone to buy Green Tips for years.’

  ‘But you just said you wouldn’t sell?’

  ‘I mean buy Green Tips, not the land it’s on. I want the business to go on. I get coaches full of pensioners pull into the car park on their way to the seaside for the day, hoping to get a cup of tea and a cake. You’ve seen the families come by at the weekends expecting to find something for the kids to play on.

  ‘Garden centres these days aren’t just about selling seeds and plants. If I had the energy, I’d put a playground in behind the car park. Maybe some rabbits to pet. and I’ve always thought the old potting shed would make a lovely cafe. Breathe some life into the place again.’

  Mary sighed, her fingers rubbing the brown mottled patches on the back of her hands.

  ‘Could one of your children not take it over?’ Katy asked.

  ‘Arthur would have loved that,’ Mary smiled again, a wistful smile as if a memory had taken her away to a different place. ‘They all had Saturday jobs here when they were old enough, and worked the summers when they could. Julie went off to teacher training school and she’s now the head teacher at a fancy school in Kent, and Freddie is a music teacher, working at the same place as his sister. He never got tired of her bossing him about.

  ‘Jonny was always the black sheep. Arthur tried and tried to get him interested in the business, but he just wouldn’t be part of it. Always running off to hang out by the park in town. Being the youngest of three and having two parents who spent all of their time and energy on their business can’t have been easy.’

  Mary rested her head on the cushion. ‘I’m a grandmother six times over. Not that I’m mu
ch of a grandmother. I’ve never done babysitting or had them to stay. I’ve always had this place to run. It’s the price I’ve paid. I do what I can when I see them though, but they’re all teenagers now.

  ‘I’m seventy-six in a few months. In the winter the arthritis in my legs makes getting up in the morning agony. But I’ve never missed a day. I’ve never opened late. Arthur never would’ve done. So I never will. Except for today that is,’ Mary bolted upright as her eyes shot to the clock on the wall. She swung her legs from the sofa to the floor, but made no move to get up as pain transformed her face.

  ‘I think it’s time to call an ambulance now, Mary.’

  ‘No dear, it’s not.’

  The two women stared at each other for a moment until Mary eased herself back down onto the sofa and sighed.

  ‘In the little purple book, under the counter in the shop, there’s a list of numbers. Perhaps you can be a dear and call Dr Jenkins. See if he can come here. Green Tips will just have to stay closed this morning.’

  ‘I’ll can open the gates, Mary. I’ll run Green Tips for you today,’ Katy said. ‘I know my way around pretty well. You can always shout instructions from the sofa. I’ll help tomorrow too.’

  ‘What about your fancy job? I couldn’t ask you to give up more of your time. You do enough for me as it is.’

  A blush spread across Katy’s face. ‘That won’t be a problem. I...I was made redundant last week. Apparently I didn’t have what it takes to work in advertising.’

  ‘Well then, yes, if you’re sure,’ Mary said. ‘It won’t be a helping hand anymore though. I wouldn’t hear of it. You’ll be a member of staff, although I doubt the wages will come close to what you were earning in London, mind you.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ Katy smiled as something eased inside of her. The distraction of working at Green Tips for the day was just what she needed.

  ‘Hop to it, then. We’re late enough as it is. You’ll find a spare green apron hanging behind that door.’

  Katy smiled and nodded. Jumping to her feet, she grabbed the apron and set off towards the gates, dragging them open one at a time and letting a short queue of cars into the car park.

  ***

  At just past four-thirty Katy closed the till, sat back on the stool and rubbed the palm of her hand across her forehead. From the moment she’d opened the gates there had been a steady flow of customers. She hadn’t had more than a few spare minutes to nip to the toilet or gulp back a glass of water. It had been the escape she’d hoped for and needed.

  After Dr Jenkins had declared Mary shaken and bruised, but otherwise fine, she had shuffled back to the shop and sat beside Katy at the counter, taking the payments whenever Katy had run off to help someone.

  When a couple with a baby had come in and asked for advice on what trees would provide the quickest barrier from people peering over the fence, Katy had led them towards the bamboo and furs. She had given them a list of positives and negatives about each type of shrub and tree, sharing a knowledge more natural to her than anything she’d learnt about advertising over the years.

  ‘I can’t believe no one has ever made you an offer to buy the business and run it as it is,’ Katy said as the last customer left the shop. ‘I love it here.’

  ‘Oh I’ve had some offers, but I’ve always turned them down. I can see it in their eyes. They think they can buy it off me, pretending to be interested in Green Tips, but the minute I’ve signed on the dotted line they’ll be turning round and selling it to Kelley’s or some property developer.’

  ‘Well, I hope you don’t sell it now. Otherwise I’ll be out of another job,’ Katy smiled.

  ‘You’re a natural,’ Mary said. ‘You know more than I do about some of these plants, especially the foreign ones.’

  ‘I never really thought about whether I liked my job in London.’ Katy pulled on the strings tying her apron in place and lifted it from her head. ‘I didn’t think it mattered. Not when it paid the bills, but now I can’t wait for my alarm to go off tomorrow morning so I can come in and do this all over again.’

  Mary reached out for Katy’s hand. It felt rough and dry after sixty years of working outdoors. ‘You should buy it.’

  ‘What?’ Katy laughed.

  ‘You should buy Green Tips,’ Mary said again, nodding her head. ‘They give bank loans out for businesses all the time. You could get one. You could buy this place and bring Green Tips into the twenty-first century.’

  ‘No...I...I couldn’t,’ Katy shook her head. ‘I’ve got a house, a mortgage. I’m too old to start again.’

  Mary lifted her head of short grey hair back and laughed. ‘Too old? If you’re too old, what does that make me?’

  ‘I meant....I mean...I have plans. I’m going to...’ Katy’s voice trailed off. What was she going to do? Not start a family. Not start a married life with Adam. Not continue a career in Advertising. She had nothing.

  ‘You just think about it, dear. I’m certainly not going anywhere. Let me just say this though. I’ll give you fair offer on the business. You won’t have to compete with the likes of Kelley’s.’

  Mary let go of Katy’s hand. ‘Here, let me show you something,’ she said, walking to the exit doors and pulling one of them open. ‘See the roof of that house just beyond those trees?’ Mary asked, pointing to a line of apple trees on the far end of the car park.

  Katy nodded.

  ‘That’s my house. Arthur had it built for me the year Freddie came along. He said we couldn’t live in a caravan for the rest of our lives. It comes with Green Tips. So you’ll have somewhere to live out of it too.’

  Katy’s head spun with possibilities. Green Tips had always been her refuge, the place she’d come to when she’d wanted to escape another weekend watching Adam slump on the sofa, but could it be more than that?

  CHAPTER 11

  Monday

  Katy rubbed at the ache spreading from the back of her neck across her shoulders.

  It felt strange to be sitting at a desk again after working on the shop floor and outside for the best part of two days.

  Green Tips had a different feel to it on Mondays. The browsing couples, the rushing dads, and the garden enthusiasts had all gone back to work.

  ‘Mondays are for the trade and the retired,’ Mary had told her when Katy had pulled on her apron that morning.

  All day long ideas had flashed in Katy’s mind like fireworks exploding in a night’s sky.

  What if...

  Maybe I could...

  If it was me, I’d...

  Katy dropped her eyes to the pile of receipts in her lap and then back to the computer screen as she tried to focus on the job at hand. Everything purchased over the weekend had to be inputted into the computer and re-ordered from a stock software system that Mary had shown her how to use.

  It was an arduous job, but Mary had insisted she do it. ‘Running Green Tips is about far more than helping customers and watering plants.’

  Katy hadn’t even agreed to buy Green Tips, she didn’t even know if it was possible, yet Mary was talking to her as if she was handing over the reins.

  Did she want it? Katy wondered again and again. Could she do it?

  She had no clue to the answers, just like she didn’t know where Adam was and whether they were still in a relationship, but it felt good to have a new focus, with questions that filled her with a nervous energy that zipped through her veins.

  Yesterday morning her problems had churned in her stomach. They’d made every thought and every action feel tainted with something negative pouring out from inside of her.

  Mary’s offer had changed that. It had shown her a way forward out of the life that lay in ruins at her feet. It was a chance to do something different. Something which might make her happy. Not Adam, not her parents, not her old bosses, but Katy. Just Katy.

  But where did she start? The blank canvas before her was so white that it might as well be blinding her. Mary had given her a bundle of print outs w
ith the last three years accounts on, as well as a glossy brochure from Kelley’s which contained a surveyors report and a breakdown of the assets of the business.

  ‘They didn’t even ask me if I wanted it. It just came in the post one day,’ Mary had told her. ‘That big number there in green is what they were offering.’

  ‘Oh,’ she’d replied. The number had been astronomical. Incomprehensible, in fact.

  ‘But that smaller number there in yellow is how much Green Tips is actually worth as a business. You’ll need to get your own surveyor to confirm it, but I thought it would give you a good idea.’

  Katy had stared at the yellow number. At least it had been a number she’d recognised, but one she could get a business loan for? That, she did not know.

  She had a decent amount hidden away in her savings account. Money she’d been saving for a future that no longer existed. What had it all been for? Katy sighed, wondering for a moment what Adam was doing. Where was he? Should she text him? She needed to speak to him at some point soon, about losing her job, about Green Tips, about the house. She’d thought all day about how it would feel to sell the terrace house that had been their home for the past few years. The only feeling she could summon was one of relief. The house had always been a stop-gap, to her at least, until they could afford something bigger, until they needed something bigger.

  ‘Are you almost done?’ Mary called from the shop, jolting Katy from her thoughts.

  She looked up at the clock on the wall and gasped. 7.30pm. No time to shower and change like she’d planned. No time to try to fix her messy mop of hair back into Valentino’s creation, or slip into something nicer than the mud stained blue jeans and old white vest.

  She’d managed to keep the anger management class and seeing Tom on the fringe of her thoughts for most of the day, but there was no way to avoid it now.

  Katy piled the receipts into a black box file, saved the spreadsheet, and powered off the computer.

  Heading for the door, she found Mary sweeping the shop floor.