Never Too Old for Love

by Rosie Harris

  ‘I must try and remember all that. You never said anything the first time we met and we had tea and biscuits at your house.’

  ‘Yes, but I had to watch my diet very carefully the next day to bring my blood sugar back down to what it should be,’ she said quietly. They sat in contemplative silence for the rest of their journey. When he pulled up outside her house she asked ‘Are you coming in for a cup of tea?’

  Bill hesitated. ‘Yes, I’d like that,’ he said.

  He had been on the point of suggesting that they went for a meal but then he thought that it might be too much for one day, especially with her dietary problems. He didn’t want to rush things. He enjoyed her company but he had no way of knowing if she felt the same about being with him. Take it slowly, he told himself. You’ve got the rest of your life to get to know each other better.

  As they went into the house, Mary remembered she hadn’t paid for her ticket. She had fully intended to do so, but somehow it seemed churlish to do so now. Some men were very sensitive about that sort of thing. She remembered Sam had always been so careful to stand his ground when they met up with friends. He most certainly would never let a woman pay for her own drink.

  She decided that, even if she let it go this time, if they went out together again then she would insist that they went Dutch. Or else that the outing was one she chose, so that she could book their tickets in advance and she could be the one to pay. This time she’d simply thank him very much for taking her and assume that it was something he had wanted to do. He had been so concerned about his mistake in giving her chocolates that it wouldn’t be very gracious for her to make a fuss about the ticket. What she would do she decided, as she went through to the kitchen and switched the kettle on, was to make him a really substantial tea. A plate of ham and cheese sandwiches as well as some biscuits.

  Next time she would make sure that she had some cake to offer him. She must try and find out what kind of cake he preferred, whether it was fruit, walnut or chocolate.

  FOUR

  It took Mary and Bill several weeks to come to some agreement over paying when they went to the pictures. Bill was adamant that it was a privilege to pay for her and he wouldn’t dream of not doing so.

  ‘Let you pay for your own ticket!’ he said aghast. ‘Whatever kind of man do you think I am?’

  ‘A very nice one,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘That settles it then,’ he said firmly. ‘No more talk about you paying.’

  It didn’t settle it though, not as far as Mary was concerned. She didn’t know his circumstances but he was a pensioner the same as she was and, like her, he no doubt had to budget his income fairly carefully. So she was determined to repay him in some way. They say that food was a way to a man’s heart, so perhaps she could offer to cook him a main meal once a week. She sorted out her old cookery books and went through them, trying to remember which dishes she had liked cooking. She hadn’t cooked for anyone except herself since Sam died and they’d had very conventional meals. Sam had enjoyed his food but he too had preferred what he termed ‘plain English cooking’.

  She thought about it for several days before she mentioned the idea to Bill that they should have a meal together once a week and that she would prepare it. When she did suggest the idea to him he looked dubious.

  ‘I’m not into fancy foods,’ he said bluntly. ‘I like meat, two veg and a pudding of some sort afterwards. In fact, I would go as far as to say that it’s the puddings I like best. None of these fancy ones, mind you. Apple tart, Rhubarb crumble, steamed pudding or bread and butter pudding, that sort of thing.’

  ‘That sounds ideal,’ Mary murmured. Her cooking was of the standard family kind. Meat and two veg followed by a tasty pudding. Nothing fancy.

  He looked at her with raised eyebrows. ‘From what you told me about your diet puddings aren’t the sort of food you indulge in.’

  ‘Well, the meat and two veg is OK. As for the puddings, I would enjoy a very small portion of all of the ones you’ve mentioned.’

  ‘Really!’ He looked surprised yet relieved.

  She nodded. ‘I don’t make any of them at the moment because it’s not worth all the fuss to make one serving, and a small one at that.’

  ‘Right, then, let’s give it a try,’ he said enthusiastically.

  ‘Good,’ Mary said and they smiled at each other understandingly.

  ‘Now does that make you feel any better,’ he asked with a broad smile. ‘I know what you’re trying to do you know.’

  Mary sighed. ‘I know; appease my conscience by giving you something in return for taking me out.’

  ‘As I told you before, it’s a great pleasure to do so but I would certainly like to give this new arrangement a trial. We’ll go to the pictures on Tuesday afternoons and I will come here for lunch every Thursday. How does that sound?’

  ‘It sounds fine,’ Mary told him. ‘I must keep the weekends free in case Richard calls round and brings little George with him. Saturday and Sunday are the only times he does so because he’s working during the week.’

  ‘Doesn’t his wife bring the little one round to see you?’

  ‘Good heavens no! Megan’s far too busy working. She travels abroad quite a lot. Once a week, Lucia, who looks after little George, brings him to see me, but she has to be careful because Megan doesn’t approve of her doing that.’

  The new arrangement worked quite well. Mary thoroughly enjoyed her weekly visits to the Odeon in Maidenhead. Bill always phoned a quarter of an hour before he was due to pick her up. Whether this was to make sure she was ready and he wouldn’t be kept waiting or to reassure her that he was taking her, she wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. In some ways it was good because, if she happened to be running late, she knew exactly how long she had before the doorbell would ring.

  Sometimes the picture was very much to her liking, but then she felt anxious at the thought that Bill might only be pretending to enjoy it, simply to please her or be polite. At other times, when it was not to her taste, she did her best not to let him know this. Afterwards, they invariably laughed about the slight difference in their opinions about what they had seen but agreed that it was well worth the experience. Both of them were seeing pictures they would never have dreamed of going to see and it broadened their outlook in so many ways.

  The Thursday lunches were a great success. Bill enjoyed the home cooking and was lavish with his praise. Sometimes, when they’d been to a picture that he knew she hadn’t been too keen on, then he would bring her a bunch of flowers as a way of compensation. So far he had not found any of her meals not to his taste. He simply revelled in the puddings she produced and sitting back replete, a satisfied smile on his face, declared that they were simply scrumptious.

  ‘My word you are a good cook, Mrs Wilson,’ he would say approvingly. There was always some left over which Mary put into a container for him to take home for his own lunch the next day.

  ‘I believe you make too much on purpose,’ he would grin as he took the container from her.

  ‘No, it’s difficult to make a pudding any smaller,’ she said with a smile, ‘and I don’t want to have it lying around here because I will eat it and upset my own diet.’

  ‘Yes, I should imagine your diet is going to the wall with all the meals you’re cooking when I come for lunch.’

  ‘Not at all, I am very careful.’

  ‘I can see that! The portion you dish out for yourself is only about a quarter of what you put in my dish, then I often have a second helping and you still have some left for me to take home!’

  They smiled at each other understandingly and Mary felt a warm glow encompass her. She was so glad she had met Bill and that they had become such good friends. His companionship gave reason to her life and, for the first time since Sam had died, she felt wanted.

  Having her hair done and getting dressed up on a Tuesday had become a very important routine. She noticed that Bill also took care about how he looked and always wore
a suit when they went to Maidenhead.

  On Thursday they were more relaxed. Bill usually came in slacks, a sports jacket and an open-necked shirt. She dressed more casually as well, but was careful to choose one of her cotton dresses or a skirt and pretty blouse. If it was cold she kept a cardigan handy for when she had finished in the hot kitchen. At first she tried to have her apron off before Bill arrived, but having spilled gravy down one of her favourite skirts while dishing up she no longer did this. However, she always took it off before she sat down at the table with him to enjoy their meal.

  After their meal she would take the coffee into the sitting room and they would both relax and talk of anything and everything. Bit by bit they began to know more about each other. Bill told her tales about army life and some of the outlandish overseas postings he had during his long service.

  ‘You make my life as a schoolmaster’s wife seem very tame and uninteresting,’ she said, after he had told her about one of his postings in Germany.

  They said very little about their respective families. Bill mentioned where each of his sons lived and how many children they had, but told her resignedly that they were all so caught up in their own lives that he rarely saw anything of them.

  ‘Brian, the eldest, is talking about going to live in Canada. Len emigrated to Australia when he was twenty and he hasn’t been back since. And Gary lives in Cardiff, he changes his job so often that I don’t even know what he is doing at the moment. Before he moved there he lived near Reading and that was when his wife, Jane, used to call on me occasionally. Since they moved to Cardiff she hasn’t even written me a letter or made a phone call.’

  ‘You haven’t been to visit any of them?’

  Bill shook his head. ‘When Lydia was alive we occasionally went to see Gary and Jane. Jane got on well with Lydia.’

  ‘You make me feel extremely lucky that I see Richard fairly often and little George. I’d like to see more of them but they have so many other calls on their time. Richard is a keen glider pilot and spends a lot of his time at Booker when the weather if fine.’

  ‘He doesn’t take little George up there does he?’ Bill frowned.

  ‘Oh no! Lucia looks after him when Richard goes flying. She is very accommodating and willing to take her time off to suit what he is doing. He’s very lucky in that way.’

  ‘And your daughter-in-law?’

  ‘Megan,’ Mary sighed. ‘She’s rarely at home. She lives a very erratic life. She is always buzzing off to Paris or Milan, or working up in London. Sometimes I don’t see her for months at a time.’

  Two Thursdays later, when they were enjoying a coffee together after their dinner, Megan herself arrived unexpectedly.

  Mary felt quite startled when she answered the door and saw who it was. Megan looked so bandbox fresh and glamorous in a sleeveless, green silk dress that clung to her perfect figure like a second skin, that Mary felt old and dowdy. She knew her hair was untidy and that she was wearing a rather outdated cotton dress, because she didn’t want to spoil any of her better clothes when she was working in the kitchen. Hesitantly she invited Megan in.

  ‘This is a surprise,’ she murmured as she led the way to the sitting room.

  Megan paused in the doorway of the sitting room staring hostilely at the man sitting in Sam’s armchair. ‘You’ve got a visitor?’ she said in an accusing tone.

  ‘Yes, come and meet my friend, Bill Thompson. We’re just having a coffee, will you have one with us?’

  ‘No, I am in a hurry,’ Megan said ignoring Bill who had stood up and was holding out his hand in greeting. ‘I wanted to let you know that I’m off to New York at the weekend and since it is half term I am taking Richard with me. He doesn’t know yet and I don’t want you trying to dissuade him from going if he mentions it to you after I tell him.’

  ‘What about George?’ Mary asked.

  ‘What about George? He is far too young for that sort of holiday! He will stay home with Lucia. I have given her your telephone number in case he is taken ill or anything.’

  ‘I see.’ Mary tried to assess what she was being told. ‘Perhaps … perhaps you should also tell Lucia to bring him round to see me every day,’ she stuttered.

  ‘Every day! Whatever for?’

  ‘Well, he might be feeling lonely with both of you away,’ Mary said lamely.

  ‘He might miss Richard but I’m sure he won’t miss me,’ Megan retorted. She looked at her watch. ‘I must go. Remember what I’ve told you,’ she added as she opened the door into the hall.

  ‘Yes, I will, and you remember what I told you about Lucia,’ Mary said as she accompanied her to the front door.

  At the door Megan paused. ‘You must be careful about inviting strangers into your home,’ she warned.

  ‘Strangers?’ Mary looked puzzled.

  ‘That old man. You gave him dinner didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, but he’s a friend,’ Mary defended Bill.

  ‘Friend!’ Megan repeated scathingly. ‘He’s seen you for a soft touch,’ she added as she started to walk down the path to where her gleaming white sports car was parked outside the gate.

  ‘Rubbish!’ Mary retorted crossly, her eyes flashing and her colour rising. ‘He’s a very good friend who helps me carry my shopping home and who takes me to the pictures once a week.’

  ‘What?’ Megan’s voice was shrill with disapproval.

  Refusing to explain her actions Mary hurriedly shut the door. She hoped Bill hadn’t been able to hear their exchanges, but as she went back into the sitting room she realised that he had.

  ‘She’s a bit of a tartar that one, isn’t she?’ he chuckled.

  Mary gave him a watery smile. She felt too close to tears to speak.

  ‘Very lovely to look at but not so nice inside,’ Bill murmured.

  Mary looked at him in surprise. He was very observant she thought gratefully. That summed Megan up perfectly.

  FIVE

  Megan lost no time in telling Richard about the old man who had been at his mother’s when she had called to see her.

  ‘Sitting there in your father’s armchair as if he owned the place,’ she said in a highly annoyed voice.

  ‘Really? Mum has never mentioned him and I’ve never bumped into him when I’ve called to see her.’

  ‘They probably make sure you don’t,’ Megan said acidly.

  ‘Well good for Mum. I’m glad she’s found a friend.’

  ‘Really!’ Megan interrupted cuttingly. ‘You are naive Richard. He’s taking her for a soft touch. She’d even cooked lunch for him!’

  Richard laughed. ‘Well that’s no bad thing because it means she’s getting a proper meal herself. I know she finds cooking for one something of a bore and I suspect that half the time she lives off a bowl of soup or one of those ready meals from the supermarket.’

  ‘Maybe she is, but it’s not costing her as much as preparing a full-scale meal for some unknown old man. What happens when she runs out of money?’

  ‘She’ll have to ask him to pay,’ Richard said with a laugh.

  ‘By the sound of that he’s already doing so in kind by taking her to the pictures once a week.’

  Richard let out a low whistle. ‘The old dog,’ he said admiringly.

  ‘Old fraud! He’s probably making her pay for the tickets,’ she added cryptically, her green eyes narrowing.

  ‘Well that’s what friends are for,’ Richard commented philosophically. ‘Share and share alike. When you have the money you treat your friends, when you haven’t then they treat you, or else you both go without.’

  ‘You do talk a lot of nonsense,’ Megan said scathingly. ‘I hope you feel that way when she runs out of money and comes begging you to help her.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s very likely. My moocher is very prudent. She works out her budget to the last penny and always makes sure there’s some left over for emergencies.’

  ‘That’s what you think, or hope,’ Megan retorted.

 
‘Apart from that she’s not exactly living hand to mouth. She has a healthy nest egg she can always fall back on if necessary.’

  ‘That’s not hers!’ Megan exclaimed in an annoyed voice. ‘That’s our inheritance.’

  ‘It’s hers,’ Richard stated firmly, his handsome face hardening.

  ‘No it’s not! It’s what your father left her when he died.’

  ‘Yes, money he had accrued because she was thrifty and always made sure that they had a healthy bank balance. As I’ve just said, she worked very much to a budget. She wasn’t stingy but she never wasted a penny piece.’

  ‘Well she’s wasting it now feeding an old man that you’ve never met and don’t want to know.’

  ‘Oh I’m not so sure about that. He’s probably quite an interesting character, Mum wouldn’t bother entertaining him or going out with him if he wasn’t.’

  ‘Rubbish!’

  Angrily Megan stood up and began pacing the room. Why was Richard always so obtuse? Like his mother, he seemed to see the good in everyone and ignore their faults. For a grown man he was far too naïve and ready to take things at their face value. Couldn’t he see that this old chap was taking his mother for a soft touch? Buttering up to her, being her friend, carrying her shopping home and taking her to the pictures; it was all so obvious.

  And what came next, Megan thought bitterly. He would start staying the night and, in no time at all, he would have moved in and persuaded her to marry him. She was of the generation who would think that was necessary if they were living together. Once he was legally her husband then he had control of her possessions including her bank account. And Mary Wilson was trusting enough to let him do so.

  Sam Wilson had been a mild man but still quite astute. Even so, Megan had never forgiven him for leaving everything he had to his wife. Not a penny had come their way.