House Mother Normal

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House Mother Normal Page 4

by B. S. Johnson

became dissatisfied. I can understand that now. At

  the time it seemed bound to happen and very painful.

  I went hungry once or twice, but soon found how to

  ask for things with a fair chance of – HA HA HA!

  I also offered to do

  little jobs to help people out in return for the

  odd meal or place to sleep for the night, and I

  usually managed – Now what’s Ivy done?

  Poor old girl. Just reading

  her book quietly.

  Who

  wants to see hers? I’ve seen plenty of them in my

  time, enough to last me a lifetime, thank you very

  much. As for that great hairy dog. . . .

  One day I thought to myself

  I can do better than this, so I went into a shop

  and bought myself a penny whistle. It was a brass

  one because they told me a tin one was illegal.

  And as the fingering was the same as on the little

  fife I learnt to play at school, it was quite easy

  for me to pick out a few tunes. So from then on I

  used to go drifting about all over the country playing

  my little whistle and picking up enough coppers

  to keep me going. But there were times when it was

  hard. People wouldn’t give money to a young chap

  of thirty-three or four or five who looked so hale

  and hearty. They thought I should get a job, not

  go begging around the streets with a penny whistle.

  Some of them told me so, too. One man went so far

  as to knock me down in the gutter, saying he hadn’t

  fought the war for beggars, or something like that.

  So I showed him my disability, and then he – Oh,

  filth, utter filth! Even in France in the first

  War I never saw such filth. In front of everyone, too.

  Filth. Though she looked as

  though she enjoyed it.

  Not me, no feels.

  Listen to her!

  No, doesn’t matter

  Ivy Nicholls

  age 79

  marital status widow

  sight 65%

  hearing 55%

  touch 65%

  taste 80%

  smell 70%

  movement 75%

  CQ count 10

  pathology contractures; asthma; osteoporosis, mainly of limbs; inguinal hernia; bronchitis; osteo-arthritis; among others.

  . . . we had then, good friends, who used to come and see us,

  just drop in there and then, never mind what was happening,

  once they nearly caught me and Ted on the job, oh, that was

  comical! We had to shout to them Hang on! while

  he got his trousers up, but I went out and talked to them

  without my drawers on, I just didn’t put them on, and all

  the while we were talking there was Ted sitting across from

  me, knowing I had no drawers on, on tenterhooks as to whether

  I should uncross my legs too boldly, but Len and Enid knew

  what we’d been doing, I’m sure, though not that I’d left my

  drawers off, and we all laughed and had a good time, oh, we

  enjoyed ourselves in those days! The

  cocktails we used to get through! Every week there’d

  be a new recipe for a cocktail in my women’s book and we’d

  try it, invite the friends round to try the new one, oh those

  were good times, the friends made up for not being able to

  have children, and soon I began to prefer them, all the

  trouble that children can be, I saw, and at least the

  friends didn’t have dirty nappies, though they were sick

  in the bathroom sometimes, the friends, that was a mess to

  clear up, wonder I’m not sick like that after food like

  this, then she’d have another sort of mess to clear up

  after me, then she’d have something to complain about, the

  old bitch!

  I’ve a good

  mind to make complaints about her and this food she gives

  us, to my friend on the Council, I still have friends –

  all the treats of our Social Evening, indeed, just like

  any night is what it’ll be, as usual, give me a good book

  any time, I just want to read.

  There she is

  again! Hurrying us up, I’d leave some of this if I wasn’t

  so hungry. Never mind, Ivy, Doctor’s coming

  tomorrow, how I love him touching me! Let

  me try to work out a way so he has to touch me a lot when

  he comes.

  Difficult.

  I’ll think of something, come the morning.

  Last scrapings, horrible plates, not like the good china I used to keep for best, not even like the everyday stuff, either.

  There, finished.

  I’m finished, clear up, must help Sarah to clear away and

  then I – oooh, my arm, the creaking, it gets set one way

  and is so painful to move any distance at all after that,

  aaaah picking up these plates

  She’s left more than usual.

  All right, Sarah, don’t wet your

  knickers!

  As soon as I’ve cleared up I’ll get my book out and have

  a good read, I do enjoy a good read, we are allowed books

  here. If that Sarah will let me read, that is, chatter,

  she does chatter, all emptiness, on and on. Not like my

  old friends, all of them, dead now, as soon as we’ve cleared

  I can get down to a – Now she’s dropped it! Now she’ll

  be in trouble, I’m glad. That’s it, give it to

  her, silly old thing thinks she can move, ha ha ha ha ha!

  the idea!

  That dog. She’s dotty over that dog.

  Right, last things, clear

  up, let’s get started on the washing up, three volunteers

  are better than an army of pressed tongue, as they used to

  say, off we go, how’s your father.

  spoon, spoon,

  fork fork spoon,

  knife, fork,

  knife here’s a sticky one, who’s been

  doing what with this one? The joys of

  life, music while you work, used to listen regularly,

  funny how radio’s just died out, really, no one listens

  like they used to, so quick, too. Used to sing,

  too. when we had friends round, to the piano, Ted could

  vamp a little, we used to enjoy strong

  Throughout old age, however long:

  If only we can cheerful stay

  And di-dum welcome every day.

  Not what we’ve been, not what we’ve done,

  What matters most is that we’re errrr

  The joys of life continue strong

  Throughout old age, however long.

  The most important thing to do

  Is stay alive and see it through

  No matter if the future’s dim

  For dum di dum, di dum di dim

  Oh, di di di, di di di deer

  OH, lucky us, that we are near!

  The most important thing to do

  Is stay di dum and see it through!

  She didn’t notice, did she? No sign!

  Ah, a good sing-song does

  you no harm, no harm at all.

  Yes, yes. Ivy this, Ivy that,

  why do I do her running around for her? Get the

  fancy goods boxes. Over in the cupboard. Right.

  This glue is nasty. Paste rather than

  glue. Attracts the mice, I shouldn’t wonder.

  And the rats!

  Easy for her. Not so easy for

  some of us. Though I can do it all right. I can

  do m
ore cracker cases in ten minutes than some of

  these can do in a whole evening. Not that I’m

  proud of it. Won’t be able to read

  now until after we’ve finished work. What a pity.

  I do enjoy a good book.

  Yes. I’ll give out the work,

  carry round the boxes. What were

  you doing yesterday, Mrs Ridge?

  Yes, this must be yours then.

  What about you, Ron?

  Here you are. I can’t help it

  if you don’t want to work, Mrs Ridge! Tell her,

  not me. She’s the one who makes you, not me.

  And you! The cheek of it!

  I don’t have to do this, you know!

  Here.

  Wake up, dear.

  Yes, I knew it, there are mice dirts in the bottom

  of the box, rolling around, sound as though they’re

  hard so they must have been rolling around here for

  some time. Filthy mice! Ugh! Mustn’t tip

  them out in front of this dotty old bugger George.

  He’d only go out and eat them.

  Though why not? Here you are,

  dear, stick this paper like she says, you know,

  and here are some little sweeties for you, ho ho.

  Yes, they’ve all got them now, madam.

  Kept back the best brush and glue for myself, well,

  I’m better at it than them. I can do more.

  Now let’s get two of them organised as I did

  yesterday. A team or syndicate. That’s the best

  way, then we all get the most out of it. Ron,

  shall we do it the way we did it yesterday?

  I know all about your arse, Ron, I know, I weep

  for your poor old arse, but what can I do? If

  you do the gluing at least you don’t have to

  go reaching all over the table for the roll

  of paper, do you? Come on now, Ron darling,

  you know you’ll only dwell on it otherwise, what

  have you got to lose?

  That’s it, Ron, that’s the ticket. Look, you have

  this brush and glue, it’s the best one, my one.

  Yes, the best. You’ll be all right

  with that, you’ll do a good job, Ron.

  Now what about you, Mrs Bowen, are you going

  to join us as you did yesterday? Hope so, as

  I’m not speaking to that bitch Ridge again, and

  the other two are dummies.

  Certainly you can do the rolling again, dear,

  Ron will do the gluing and I’ll do the cutting.

  So we’ve got three rollers between us and they

  can keep going round, or rather back and forth

  between you and Ron.

  I’m sorry to seem to be ordering you around, but

  someone has to do the organising, don’t they?

  Off we go, then.

  Hope Ron is going to be able to do the gluing

  properly, it was his fault last time, he’s the one

  who should take the blame for what she was saying.

  Keep my arms working and moving, so that they don’t

  get still and stiff and set, ah.

  My book will have to wait until after this work has

  finished, have to wait.

  My eyes are not what they were, still, I collected

  over seven hundred pound for the Blind Club, they’ll

  see to my eyes, for that, not seven hundred all at

  once, of course, over the years, over the years,

  silver paper from chocolate and milk bottle tops

  and other things.

  That was when we were living near Southend. I could

  have collected for the Lifeboat, but I preferred

  to collect for the Blind. Ted did, too, he didn’t

  want me getting mixed up with that lot who collected

  for the Lifeboat, there were some

  unpleasant women amongst that lot, and men, too, and

  Ted said he couldn’t afford to get in with the wrong

  lot, what with this new job that we’d gone down there

  for in the first place, it was such a good job, a

  chance in a million, and I thought he might be right,

  and it turned out he was, after not so very long.

  And he did so well as a rep for Stevensons, Ted, you

  have to cultivate just the right sort of people in

  that sort of job, and he was so successful at it that

  within five years we moved out of Southend and had our

  own little bungalow out at Thundersley, a new one, up

  on the top of Bread and Cheese Hill, funny name,

  all our friends used to remark on it, and laugh,

  we had lots of friends then, they’d call round

  just when they felt like it to see us, life

  seemed so busy then, I joined the Women’s Institute,

  and did the flowers for the Church on the

  rota, time seemed to fly by doesn’t

  now

  I’m getting so annoying

  fat, through not working, not getting enough exercise

  in this place. Still, all my life my weight

  was slowly going up, all the time, all the more to

  love, Ted used to say, bless him, oh!

  Only time I came down a bit in weight was when they

  cut my womb away, God knows what they didn’t cut

  away as well, saved my life, they said, but I’ve

  never felt the same again, I’ve heard others say

  that it made a new woman of them, but not me, I’ve

  never been the same, I can truthfully say I miss

  what they cut away, I’m not the same woman without

  it. Oh, I’m alive, that was successful, yes, they

  would call it a success.

  You’re doing famously, Mrs Bowen. What a rate

  we’re going! Oooh, I’ve made a rhyme!

  Ron, dear, could you please be a little more

  sparing with the glue? You heard what House

  Mother said about being careful, you know!

  His hands now,

  I thought it was his arse, arthritis sounds like

  it ought to be a disease of the arse really.

  That’s a comical idea, my Ted would have laughed

  at that one!

  Well, just try, Ron, you know what she’s like

  if she’s crossed. For your own sake, not mine.

  Good for you, Ron.

  It was still like country out there then, that

  was why we chose the bungalow there. One Sunday

  afternoon while it was still being built we went

  to a fair, it was a real country fair with local

  people, not one of these shady travelling affairs,

  here today and gone tomorrow, it was real old-

  fashioned, it reminded me of when I was a little

  girl. They even had that competition for children,

  bobbing they called it, where they had to find a

  sixpence with their mouths in an earthenware dish

  filled with flour. Their faces, how everyone

  laughed at their faces! I remember going in for

  that myself when I was about six, and crying at not

  winning, tears running through the flour on my

  cheeks, until the man who was judging it sorted

  out the sixpence with his fingers and gave it

  to me to make up for not winning the prize,

  which was half-a-crown, I think. A lot of money.

  They also had a grinning match through horse-collars,

  very old-fashioned that was, you don’t

  see that nowadays. It was so good to be back in

  the country again, I was so glad that Ted had got

  himself that job. I tried to be a good wife to

/>   him, did special things for him to show that I

  loved him, special things.

  Then there were more bungalows

  built, the country was creeping farther and farther

  away, soon it meant getting in the car if

  we really wanted to see the real countryside, we

  were luckier than most in having a car at all, a

  little Ford. We’d go out of a summer evening to

  a country pub and have a drink, be quiet for a

  change. You had to go quite a way, anyway,

  for a drink, in Thundersley, as when they were building

  all those bungalows they forgot to build any

  pubs, or shops too for that matter, I did hear the

  land had belonged to some religious people or other

  in the first place, who wouldn’t allow the thought

  of drink on their property, but that doesn’t

  explain why there were no shops. Soon people

  began converting their front rooms into shops, and

  Ted and I toyed with the idea at one time, to give

  me something to do, as I was free of children, but

  in the end we decided against it, no need, we were

  comfortably off.

  Clear up? That means Ivy clear up . . . I thought

  so. Yes, I will. Here we go again. Don’t finish

  the one I’m doing, just bung it all in the box,

  glue and all. Can I have yours, Ron, please?

  And Mrs Bowen?

  Ta muchly.

  Let’s put the finished ones in this empty box,

  shall we?

  Good. We’ve done a good

  day’s work, our lot. What about that old cow

  Ridge’s stuff? Not much here. In fact

  nothing at all. Say nothing. Just collect the

  glue and the paper and the scissors.

  Oh! I wouldn’t touch

  you with someone else’s bargepole, you dirty fat git!

  You say that louder

  so’s she can hear, and you’ll get the twitcher

  again! Move away, quickly.

  What about the dummies, what have they done?

  Next to nothing. As usual What a mess,

  Mr Hedbury! As usual for him, too.

  Yes, that’s it, give her the twitcher, the slobbery

  cow, the twitcher!

  What a mess, Mrs Stanton! Nothing. Ah well,

  Ivy to clear up, as usual, as usual.

  Pile them away in the cupboard, anyhow.

 

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