Onwards Flows the River

by Caroline Windsor

  “A bit like housework, you mean?” Hannah gave him an innocent look. “I used to be absolutely useless at anything domestic until my mother showed me what to do.”

  “Is that so?” She saw the suspicion in his eyes.

  “Absolutely,” she nodded vehemently, thinking of the chaos which currently reigned in her own bedroom and hoping God would forgive her for the white lie. “For instance, it never occurred to me that there was a right and a wrong way to do the dusting and vacuuming.”

  “There is?”

  “Oh definitely. I mean, there’s no point in cleaning the carpet first if you’re then going to do the dusting and make it all dirty again.”

  She could see that she had got his attention.

  “I hadn’t really given it a thought.”

  “No reason you should. It’s just one of those little tips that make life so much easier once you know them. Like emptying the vacuum cleaner every now and then.”

  “It needs emptying, does it?” He was obviously amazed.

  “Oh yes,” Hannah assured him. “And as for the washing machine – well, some are just so complicated to operate it’s a wonder we manage to keep ourselves clean at all.”

  “It’s funny you should say that, I was having a little difficulty in that department myself.”

  “So maybe if I gave you a few of those useful tips that I was telling you about, you know – the ones my mother taught me – it might make life easier for you.”

  “It would that.” He paused. “I suppose you don’t know nothing about cooking, do you?”

  “A little – I’m no Fanny Craddock though.”

  “Thing is, I can do meself a fry-up, no problem. But it’d be good to have a bit of a change now and then.”

  “The occasional chop, spuds and green veg, that sort of thing you mean?” She saw his eyes light up.

  “A chop’d be grand. I ain’t got much use for a joint nowadays, what with there being only one of me and all.”

  “Tell you what, Mr Morris...”

  “Albert,” he interrupted her.

  “Thanks, Albert. How would it be if I showed you a few of those housework tips now – and we got the place a bit tidier. Then, if you didn’t mind me coming again next week, you could help me cook a couple of chops and veg and maybe I could stay and have a bite with you?”

  His grin told her all she wanted to know.

  “Right then, I expect you’ve got some cleaning materials under the sink.” To her relief Mrs Morris must have laid in a plentiful supply before she died. “I suggest we get those sheets off your bed and put a load of washing in the machine. Then we can start on the dusting.”

  o0o

  Three hours later she collapsed exhausted on the sofa. Albert staggered in after her, pressed a can of lager into her hand, and flopped into an armchair. They drank in silence.

  “Do you realise it’s after eleven?”

  Albert nodded happily. “Been worth it though, eh? Looks like it did when the missus was alive.”

  Hannah surveyed the room. The shepherds and shepherdesses, freshly washed, gleamed on the sparkling mantlepiece. The piles of ageing newspapers on the floor had been disposed of and the carpet vacuumed to within an inch of its life. Next door, a pair of pristine white sheets adorned the marital bed and every piece of clothing that wasn’t actually in the wash, hung neatly in the wardrobe. She thanked God for the old-fashioned clothes drier which hung over the bath, now festooned with shirts and long johns.

  “If you want to leave the ironing till next week, I could give you a hand then.”

  “Better not risk burning anything, eh?”

  Hannah nodded. “I’ll bring the food for our meal with me next week, Albert. You needn’t worry about it.”

  “You bleedin’ won’t!” He glared at her indignantly. “You’ve worked like a bleedin’ navvy this evening... it’d be a poor show if I couldn’t buy you a bit of food in return. Just tell me what to get and I’ll do the honours.”

  “Thanks,” she smiled at him. “A couple of lamb chops, a pound or two of spuds and whatever veg you fancy. That’d be fine.”

  “I’ll get a melon too.” He gave her a knowing look. “Posh folk always like a bit of melon.”

  “Melon would be great, Albert. I may not be posh – but I do like a bit of melon.” Wearily she heaved herself out of the deeply cushioned depths of the sofa. “I must be going now, or I’ll nod off and still be here in the morning.”

  He followed her down the corridor to the front door.

  “Pity you can’t stay,” he chuckled as he ushered her out. “It’d be good to tell me mates down at The Bull that I’d found meself another bleedin’ redhead.”

  His throaty laugh followed her down the stairs.

  o0o

  Thank God Albert’s flat was only ten minutes’ walk away Hannah reflected, as she groped around in the murky depths of her handbag in search of her front door key. Even on that short journey she had had to sidestep a couple of drunks and been half frightened to death by a black cat which had unexpectedly shot across her path.

  Easing open the creaky door, she slid through and fastened it behind her. Never before could she remember feeling so utterly exhausted, but despite her aching muscles she was also conscious of a pleasant exhilaration. Tonight, she realised with some amazement, had been the happiest evening she had spent since she had arrived in London. For all Albert’s crotchetiness she knew that he had taken a shine to her and she derived no little pleasure from the realisation that she had succeeded where Esme had failed.

  Buoyed up by her success she forgot her tiredness and took the stairs two at a time in her usual fashion. Four steps from the top her weary legs gave out and she stumbled. Grabbing wildly at the banisters she managed to stop herself from hurtling to the bottom, but her heavy bag slid from her shoulder and descended with a thump.

  “Sod it!” she muttered.

  “If you’re drunk again you can bloody well clear up your own mess this time.”

  Looking up, Hannah saw Jo’s outraged face appear over the banisters. All her good intentions and her promises to Kate flew out of the window.

  “Drunk? What do you mean, drunk? For your information, I’ve been down on my hands and knees scrubbing out an old man’s flat for the past three hours.”

  “I’d no idea you were that desperate.”

  Jo’s cruel jibe struck home. Overwhelmed by exhaustion Hannah slumped down on to the stairs and rested her head in her hands. It was no good. Whatever she did, nothing would ever succeed in changing the deputy warden’s opinion of her as a spoilt little rich girl. She swallowed back her tears. The last thing she wanted was to give Jo the satisfaction of seeing her cry again.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder as Jo slid down on to the step beside her.

  “I’m sorry – I’d forgotten Esme said you were visiting Albert Morris tonight.”

  The apology, though grudging, sounded genuine and Hannah turned to look at her.

  “It’s OK. Given my history it was an easy mistake to make.” She managed a weak smile. “I meant to thank you for what you did for me ... Kate told me how you’d put me to bed and everything. It must have been ghastly for you.”

  Jo gave a wry grin. “All part of the job, I guess – though don’t push your luck too far in future or I might feel compelled to leave you to Esme’s tender mercies.”

  Hannah shuddered. “I’d hate my parents to know – they’d never understand.”

  “Or perhaps they would understand and that would be even more humiliating. College days aren’t always the happiest days of our life, however much they’re cracked up to be.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” Hannah grasped hold of the banister and heaved herself to her feet.

  Jo retrieved her bag fro
m the floor below and handed it to her.

  “Thanks – and thanks again for everything... you know,” she said awkwardly.

  Jo nodded and Hannah followed her up the stairs and along the corridor. Outside Kate’s room Jo hesitated.

  “Kate’s light’s still on – isn’t she usually asleep by this time?”

  Hannah nodded. “She’s usually well away by half past ten or eleven. Perhaps I’d better make sure she’s OK.” She tapped lightly on the door. There was no reply. She tapped again, a bit louder.

  “Try the handle – maybe she’s fallen asleep and forgot to lock it.” Jo sounded anxious.

  Gingerly Hannah eased the door open. Kate was slumped, half sitting and half lying against the pillows. With her neck at an awkward angle, her breathing sounded laboured. The Forsyte Saga had fallen face down on to the floor beside her, its pages crumpled.

  “That’s not like Kate.” Hannah retrieved the weighty tome. “She’s always so careful with books.”

  “Kate.” Jo perched on the edge of the bed and patted Kate’s hand. “Wake up, Kate!” There was no discernible movement.

  “She looks so uncomfortable – I can’t imagine how she managed to fall asleep in that position at all.” Hannah slid her arm behind Kate’s back and heaved her upright. Kate’s only response was a grunt.

  “She’s usually such a light sleeper – I can’t understand it.”

  “Does she take sleeping tablets?” Jo pointed to a small bottle beside the bed.

  “Yes, but she’s taken them ever since her parents died and I’ve never known her to be as dead to the world as this. We shared a dormitory for the last year at school, so I know what she’s usually like.”

  “Kate!” Jo took her by the shoulders and shook her gently. There was no response.

  “You don’t think she’d have tried anything silly, do you?”

  “An overdose you mean?” Hannah sounded incredulous. “Oh, I’m sure she wouldn’t do that... and certainly not now. I mean, she’s been so much happier since she moved to Harrison House. It’s not like she’s stuck in that lonely flat any more.”

  Jo leaned closer to Kate. “I can’t smell drink on her breath, so it’s not that.”

  “Perhaps we should just leave her to sleep it off – whatever it is.”

  Jo shook her head. “It’s too dangerous. She might suddenly be sick and choke to death on her own vomit.”

  “Yuk!” Hannah was appalled. “Are you sure you aren’t over-reacting a bit – she’s probably just had one more tablet than usual.”

  “Believe me, it happens.” Jo’s face was grim. “If we can’t manage to wake her up I think I’d better fetch Esme. I’d never forgive myself if there was something seriously wrong with her.”

  “Let me have another go – if there’s one thing Kate hates it’s causing a fuss. I know she wouldn’t want Esme to be involved unless it was really necessary.” Hannah gripped her friend’s shoulders and shook her hard. “Wake up, Kate, for goodness’ sake!”

  Kate’s eyes opened blearily. “Wassup?” she muttered.

  Jo crouched down beside her. “We were worried about you, Kate. We just wanted to know if you were OK.”

  “Ifine.” Her eyes started to close again.

  “But what happened?” Jo gripped her hand tightly. “Have you taken any more sleeping tablets than usual?”

  “Bad day... needed sleep... be OK tomorrow.” She lapsed back into a deep sleep.

  Jo sighed. “I’ll have to get Esme. We can’t leave her like this.”

  “If you get Esme, she’ll get a doctor and then Kate’ll have ‘overdose’ written on her medical records. That’ll blight her career before it’s even started.”

  “Then we’ll have to stay with her until she wakes up in the morning.” Jo was adamant.

  Hannah nodded. Exhausted as she was, this seemed the only option.

  “I’ll stay with her till half past three then come and wake you up. OK? That way we can both get some sleep.”

  “Thanks, Jo, I know Kate will be grateful to you for leaving Esme out of it.”

  “If there’s any sign whatsoever that she’s getting worse, I’ll still call her. Dead residents aren’t a very good advertisement for Harrison House.”

  “Fair enough.” Hannah gave her a weary smile. “Are you sure you don’t mind taking the first shift?”

  “You’d be no good – you’re dead on your feet as it is.” Jo sank down into an armchair and plonked The Forsyte Saga on her lap. “This’ll keep me awake for a few hours.” She waved Hannah away. “Go and get some sleep. I’ll wake you at half past three.”

  o0o

  It was seven o’clock when a bleary-eyed Hannah burst into Kate’s room. Jo was in exactly the same position as when she had left her.

  “You never woke me!”

  “Brilliant book this. Couldn’t put it down.” Jo stretched her cramped limbs.

  Kate sat up with a start. “What on earth are you two both doing in my room at this hour?”

  Jo and Hannah exchanged a relieved smile.

  “You seemed to be sleeping a little too deeply for comfort,” Jo informed her. “We decided it wouldn’t be safe to leave you.”

  “You’ve been here all night?”

  Jo nodded. “We tried to wake you up, but you muttered something about having had a bad day. We thought you might have taken a few too many tablets.”

  The events of the previous day came flooding back. “I think I messed up my chances of getting the receptionist’s job at The Willows. I felt so depressed, all I wanted to do was knock myself out for the night.”

  “You did that all right,” Jo told her wryly. “It was like trying to wake the dead.”

  “I’m sorry if I worried you.” Kate reached for her bed jacket and wrapped it around her thin shoulders. “It was really good of you to stay with me.” A worrying thought occurred to her. “You didn’t tell Esme, did you?”

  “I would have if it hadn’t been for Hannah. If you’d choked to death or something awful, I’d have lost my job for not telling her.”

  “Then who’d be there to clear up after me when I’ve been out on the tiles?” Hannah giggled.

  “Don’t count on it! It never occurred to me when I took this job that I’d have to cope with a drunk and a drug overdose all in the space of a week. I think I deserve a pay rise.”

  “You certainly deserve something,” Hannah agreed. Her face brightened. “I know. It’s your birthday tomorrow, isn’t it?”

  Jo nodded, surprised.

  “Then how about Kate and I taking you out for a meal as a sort of thank you?”

  “That’s a brilliant idea,” Kate agreed. “You’re not working tomorrow night, are you?”

  Jo shook her head. “It’s really kind of you. I was rather dreading my birthday, what with it being the first one since Mum died and everything.” She gave Hannah a wry grin. “Besides, it’ll give me the perfect opportunity to wear my little black dress!”

  o0o

  “This is a real luxury for me.” Jo sprinkled some Parmesan cheese over her steaming bowl of pasta. “I can’t remember the last time I went into a restaurant as a customer rather than a waitress.”

  Kate smiled at her enthusiasm. The small family-run Italian restaurant which she had discovered near St Mark’s had the twin virtues of serving excellent food at a reasonable price. Hannah had wanted to opt for somewhere more flamboyant but Kate had demurred. Jo, she suspected, would have been embarrassed if they had taken her somewhere too expensive. Not that she’d have felt out of place. The smart black dress in soft jersey, the gold hoop earrings and long gold chain necklace would have been appropriate evening wear for almost any occasion.

  She watched Hannah as she reached for another slice of garlic bread.
It was a relief to see that the pair of them seemed to have reached some sort of a truce and no longer relied upon her to act as perpetual mediator. Hannah, looking stylish in black velvet trousers and emerald green silk overshirt seemed happier and more relaxed than Kate had seen her since she first arrived in London. Esme, she knew, had been delighted by her success with Albert and Hannah herself seemed genuinely fond of the old man. Perhaps, as Jo had remarked – much to Hannah’s amusement – the pair of them were as bloody-minded as one another.

  “Is it pressie time?” Hannah caught Kate’s eye. Kate nodded. Hannah fished under her chair for the little black evening bag which she had bought in Westermouth with such high hopes just before leaving for London. It was, she realised with disgust, the bag’s first outing.

  “Not a present as well?” Jo looked at them in surprise. “It was more than generous of you both to treat me to a meal out; I never expected anything else.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s nothing too extravagant.” Hannah slid a small, elegantly wrapped package across the table. “The present is for your birthday – the meal is our way of saying thank you for not telling Esme about... well, you know... everything.”

  Jo nodded. She felt overwhelmed by their generosity. It was, she reflected, almost worth clearing up after Hannah and sitting up all night with Kate just to experience the warmth of their friendship on this delightful evening. Not that she would tell them that, of course. They would probably pity her if they knew just how few friends she had made over the years. While her schoolfriends had visited each other’s homes or gone off in groups to the cinema or club of an evening, Jo and Beth had hurried home to help their mother with the evening chores and try to protect her from their father’s drunken rages. It had never been a home to which they could invite people back and they had found themselves isolated from their peers. This habit of keeping herself to herself was hard to break and she knew that Beth – left to fend for herself in the rough and tumble of the children’s home – was suffering from the same dilemma.

  “Come on!” Hannah was growing impatient. “Stop fumbling and open it!”