Stranger in Paradise

by stan graham

  On Saturday there was a parade of floats showing the town through the ages. The events are designed to collect money for charities to help children, so I threw a few coins into the buckets. There was even a Beauty Queen, she was very pretty, one of the local girls. The Salvation Army Band marched led by a man twirling a big stick and followed by a man banging a big drum. Then came the Scouts, Girl Guides, and other groups. I followed them all to the Park and stayed all afternoon listening. The Mayor awarded prizes for the best float and there were a few speeches. I couldn’t be bothered to cook so I bought some fish and chips before going home.

  I don’t know what’s come over the old girl these days. Eating out, visiting cafes, going to the seaside. Friends, we had none of that nonsense when I was around to keep her head straight. You just can’t trust them once they are off the leash. Anarchist’s that’s what women are, just plain anarchists.

  We had another fire alarm went off last night. Two-o clock in the morning and the alarm went off. Well it wasn’t me this time. I was sound asleep. This piercing scream, I swear they are trying to give us all heart attacks. I was dreaming that I was in a plane over Germany bombing the Jerry’s when I heard this scream and thought we had been hit. Then I awoke to hear it still going on. My heart was having palpitations. Mr Harness had been making some toast under his grill and had fallen asleep, forgetting all about it until the alarm went off. They certainly can’t blame me this time. Smythe was furious, shouting at Mr Harness about waking everybody up.

  “If you are not careful I’ll have you put in a home the same as I did with the last tenant of your flat. Waking everybody up. These poor people need their sleep you know even if you don’t.”

  I couldn’t resist intervening.

  “Mr Smythe” I said firmly. “You are doing more to keep us all awake with your shouting than poor Mr Harness has ever done. Now please stop bullying the poor man and go away and let us all get back to bed.”

  He looked as if he would throw himself on the floor and have a tantrum. His face grew bright red, I thought he might be having a heart attack. “I… I…” He was at a loss for words. Finally he spun on his heel and stormed out.

  “You haven’t heard the last of this” were his parting words.

  We finally got back to bed at half past four after I had a cup of tea with Mr Harness and set his mind at rest. I stayed on red alert for the rest of the night.

  Life isn't fair, don’t think I don’t know that. Arthur dying just before reaching retirement age. Okay, in a way it had been a relief, I had dreaded having him under my feet when he retired from that dreadful job at the Co-op. Thirty nine years with the same company, started as a counter assistant and finished up with his own branch as manager. It didn't exactly show initiative or a sense of adventure.

  Peter is going the same way, his dad had got him a job there when he reached eighteen after he had finished doing his A levels and he is still there at forty one. Something in accounts, he has told me what it is but I never bother to listen when he talks about his work. It’s all to do with numbers and all that stuff, projected turnover, profit on floor space, wage bills, boring stuff like that. Mind you Peter seems to like it. The male side of the family didn't have much going for it. Peter had been a late child and I worried that it was due to this that he was a late developer. Not like my Jane. A bright girl who had done well for herself working for the Council as a social worker. It had been through her influence that I had been found the place at Paradise Lodge. I shall not forget that.

  Arthur should have stayed a bit longer until he retired.

  I think Jane likes me really, after all it would be a strange girl who didn’t love her own mother, she just doesn't know how to show her emotions.

  None of our generation were much into touchy feely, we keep our thoughts to ourselves.

  As Arthur would have said, “ Emotions, for sissies!”

  Brenda Jessingham, her that lives at number 24 told me that Mr Pope at number 18 was thinking of buying himself a wife. Apparently they go over to Thailand and all these little girls will do anything to get a wealthy husband. I told her that was nonsense as he hasn't got two halfpennies to rub together, but she said that over there they are so poor he is considered quite well off.

  Besides Brenda said if he marries her she can come and live here in a real house instead of a mud hut. I said that nobody lives in mud huts any more but she insists that they do. I shall have to look into this. I can't see them allowing this. This place is supposed to be for the over sixties, and if someone brings in a teenage wife I shall have something to say.

  A wet day but I went to the market to get some food in I buy some tomatoes, lettuce, onions, cabbage, Braeburn apples, and some oranges for the vitamin C and some bananas. Don’t get the heavy stuff because I need my trolley for that. Just take my trusty shopping bag. It’s surprising how much you can save.

  I spoke to Mr Pope about his marriage plans and it seems that he was just saying that to wind Mrs Jessingham up. He said that he thought he would give the gossips something to talk about. While I cannot entirely approve of his behaviour I must admit that there is a lot of gossip spread by a few, who shall be nameless.

  Arthur would have liked him. Actually Arthur liked most people. I would tell him that he lacked discrimination but he said there is some good in everybody. Can’t say that has been my experience in life. Some people are just bad through and through.

  Got a bit about him that Jack Pope. Glad to see that he is looking after the old girl, but he had better not think that he can take my place. Yes I suppose he is okay but I wouldn’t have employed him. Bit to cocky for my taste. Still he seems popular with the ladies.

  After our confrontation with Smythe Mr Harness and myself seem to be getting on a bit better. It seems that he only has about a year to live. Lung’s you know. I told him that he should give up smoking and he might last longer but he said that without his cigarettes he wouldn’t want to live anyway.

  “Been smoking since I was a nipper. Man and boy. Life is bad enough with a fag; I couldn’t bear it without them. What with my diabetes, I have to inject three times a day. Doctor tells me to eat more but I have to be careful with what I eat. Have to count my carbohydrates. I’ve just given up on the whole business of living waiting to go that’s me.”

  “My word that Grace who lived here before you had diabetes as well, I wonder if it’s catching?”

  “No love, you will find that most of the people living here have got it in one form or another. They retire so they are not as active as they were. They still keep on eating the same meals though and put on weight. Being overweight is a major cause of it. That’s not so bad though, usually they don’t have to stick needles into themselves two or three times a day. They can regulate it by diet or pills.”

  “Well you are not fat, you’re just skin and bone. Is it catching?”

  “No chance.”

  I’m not so sure though. He would say that wouldn’t he. Still it does explain some of his behaviour. Mind you that is no excuse. I hope he doesn’t think I am going to weaken. I still detest the filthy habit and I shall make it clear that I am absolutely opposed to it. Just hope he doesn’t start thinking he can talk to me all the time. I shall be avoiding him just in case. That’s the trouble if you show a sign of weakness. People take advantage. Still it cannot be very nice to have to stick needles in yourself three times a day.

  I have just seen the coven, Pamela, Anne and Julia, together in a huddle. With their ankle length sixties dresses down to the floor and long hair, at their age I ask you. They remind me of the three crones in Macbeth. I think they have meetings at the full moon as I've noticed them sidle over to Pamela's flat about once a month, and Mrs Jessingham has seen Anne buying incense in the local health food shop. She only goes in there to get her garlic pills as she says that you can't be too careful these days, you don't know what people get up to in their flats. The lady next door to Pamela, I don't know her name as she is a bit lowe
r class, says that she hears weird music and sometimes chanting. She thinks they are witches. She has applied to move somewhere else. I asked her where she was thinking of going and she said isn't there an empty flat in your block. Heaven forbid. I told her that she must be mistaken and that it been taken ages ago and she said that perhaps they would swop with her. I ask you. Over my dead body, even Mr Joseph Harness is better than that.

  Often felt like giving the old witches a scare when they start going into trances. Touch one of them up, now that will make them jump. Should have heard about these places years ago. I would have had a right old time here with all these lonely women. Isn’t it typical, Janice never mentioned anywhere like this while I was alive. They keep these places to themselves. Hotbed of anarchy.

  I hate this hot weather it’s not so bad for the men they can strip to their vests, but a lady must retain her dignity at all times.

  Wonder what they are gossiping about. Perhaps I'll put the kettle on and invite Julia over for a cup of tea. One must socialise a little bit after all mustn't appear stand-offish. Even if she is a shrivelled up little prune who is always going on about her student days. I was too busy looking after Arthur and the children to worry about education. Arthur always said that if you read the Daily Mail every day it was as good as a college education and he should know. He got his Higher National Certificates at the Polytechnic. And he told me that he was first in his class, so he knew what he was talking about.

  I waited until they had split up to go to their own flats before calling out to Julia.

  "I've just put the kettle on, come on up."

  "I'll be right there.”

  I should think so; it's not everybody I invite in.

  We had a cup of P.G.Tips. Arthur swore that it was the best selling tea in the store and I can see why. I have mine with milk and sugar, two spoonfuls. Arthur always said I was sweet enough already. Julia had hers with milk, the first time I invited her in she had asked for it without milk or sugar but had quickly said, perhaps a drop of milk.

  "Well I said, how are you and your friends?"

  "Very well thank you" she replied.

  "I suppose you will be having one of your group meetings soon," I asked.

  "Yes’s" she drawled.

  "I thought I might pop over some time, I'm quite interested in Third Age. I've read about it in the Daily Mail".

  "No, no, no, It's not the Third Age although that is very commendable and I am pleased that you are taking an interest in it, but we are interested in The New Age".

  "What's wrong with the old age?" I said making a joke of it not that getting old is fun.

  " Nothing at all" she said. "It's just not we are about".

  Pompous little twit as if I want to be involved with them.

  "Well it's very nice of you to offer but I'm afraid my time is rather full up at the moment, but I'll let you know if I get a free moment".

  "Well as you are so busy perhaps I had better not take up any more of your time", Julia started to rise. "Oh look there is Mr Pope", she cried gazing out the window "I need to speak to him about his new wife".

  "Oh, you mean the teenage Thai wife he's buying" I smirked. "I've already spoken to him, he assures me that she's very nice".

  "Then it's true", she gasped sinking back into her chair. "Oh dear I don't think the ladies will approve of that".

  "Personally I see nothing wrong with it", I said, taking the high moral ground, secure in the knowledge that the whole story was just made up..

  "Well I never thought that you would approve, well I never", she gasped.

  "Many a tune played on an old fiddle", I retorted. "I might get one myself. One presumes that one can buy husbands as well as wives". That should set the cat among the pigeons, I thought.

  The Sisters, as they liked to think of themselves, were three friends who shared a common interest. They were perfectly aware that Captain Smythe referred to them as the three virgins. Which they were, although a query hung over Julia, the youngest.

  They met regularly to discuss their ailments and to consult the tarot cards.

  Pamela, the eldest was a tarot reader, a self proclaimed psychic.

  Anne the middle one was a Holistic Therapist, and had even taken a college course to gain a certificate in Holistic Therapy. She was in fact a pretty good Reflexologist giving foot massages to die for so I am told. She also had a case of Aromatherapy Oils that she would use to knock up remedies that really seemed to work even if you sometimes doubted their efficacy and put it down to the placebo effect.

  Julia, the youngest was believed to have had an affair during the sixties, from which she had never got over and this had led her towards feminist principles. She also believed in Flying Saucers, Faeries and much else that appealed to a certain type of lonely woman. However she could never be accused of disloyalty to her friends and would defend them like a little terrier.

  I sometimes think Julia senses my presence but I've never heard her mention it to the other two, perhaps there are secrets between them.

  It was early morning and Pamela was sipping a cup of camomile tea and peering through her narrow lens glasses that she thought gave her a superior look, at a display of tarot cards. She liked to do a reading first thing in the morning to see how the day would progress. A magician called Aleister Crowley had designed the cards.

  While Pamela didn’t understand all the symbolism displayed on the cards she was sure that using this pack conveyed some of his magic to her.

  Indeed her readings seemed to be far more relevant since she had started using this deck. Each deck was supposed to be given to you but she had bought hers from the local bookstore after a three week wait while they ordered it especially for her from a specialist company in America.

  She sat quietly for a few moments before shuffling the cards. Then she placed three cards face down on the table. She turned the first card, the past, the Queen of Cups, enthroned over a lake that reflects her image and engulfed in a white light, she is a lady of mystery. A lotus in her hand shows love. Well that certainly was her. Now what was the next card, the present. Princess of Swords, a young person, an intellectual, unexpected news, probably Julia. Card three, the future, Nine of Swords, Cruelty, hurt and disappointment caused by others. That was for sure she thought.

  She sighed to herself. If only she had known about the Tarot Cards when she was young, she could have saved herself so much heartache. Such a pity Anne and Julia didn't spend more time on their education she could teach them so much. Unfortunately one only came to an idea when one was ready for it.

  Pamela had attended a weekend course in Wales several years ago to learn more about the Tarot and Mrs Welensky, one of the two teachers had told her she had a gift that she should nurture. They had sold her a pack of cards called Rider Waite, which they said, was the best for beginners to start with. Since then she had bought a number of packs until she found her present pack of Thoth cards gave her the best reading.

  She had been invited back to Wales a number of times to take advanced courses but felt that she had got everything that she needed from them. Besides the courses were so expensive, especially when you are a pensioner. They had seemed to take a bit of offence when she wrote back and told them that she felt that they had nothing more to teach her and that she would be teaching her own school soon. They had forbidden her to mention that she had taken a course with them. As if she would.

  She had not started teaching yet but was ready to begin just as soon as she felt she had some pupils ready and looking for a Mistress. After all don’t they say, “When the pupil is ready the Master appears. Anne and Julia would make a good start. She could see herself as the head of a flourishing school of Psychics and Tarot readers. Articles in the papers and magazines praising how good she was. She could see the headlines “Tarot Reader changed my life says film star.” People coming for miles to sit at her feet and listen to her talks. She always knew she would be good at it. People were forever telling her that s
he had a listening ear.

  “Well my dear,” she would say, ”that’s what they are for.”

  I had a word with old Crowley and he said that there was nothing magical about the things, just aids to concentration, opening up the inner mind he said. I told him I didn't really understand him. "Be surprised if you did old chap he had said, most people don't.” The pictures are quite stunning though. People see what they want to see. I can see that they could be a very good way of contacting ones subconscious.

  A knock at the door brought Pamela to her senses. Julia stood there.

  "Mrs Bond is getting herself a gigolo", she gasped.

  "Calm down and come to your senses woman. Now what are you talking about"?

  "I told Janice, Mrs Bond, that Mr Pope was buying a Thai wife and she said that she knew and was thinking of getting a husband for herself from the same place".

  "I saw it in the cards myself this very morning. Look". Pamela pointed to the three cards on the table.

  "Queen of Cups, a passionate emotional woman. Princess of Swords, a young man or woman, in this case you bringing news. Nine of Swords, Cruelty, he's going to treat her bad. If that does not prove the cards are right then I don't know what does".

  "Do you think we should warn her?"

  "No, we shall just have to keep an eye on her and help her when he starts beating her."

  "I've got the name of a women’s refuge if she needs it," said Julia.