by Joan Jonker
‘Me ankle is very sore, sweetheart, but your touching it didn’t make it any worse.’
‘Then it definitely isn’t broken, or yer’d have been screaming the house down. What we’ll do is put a cold compress on it, and see if that eases it for yer. Have yer got anything I can use, like an old pillowcase or something?’
Eliza pointed to the cupboard in the alcove at the side of the fireplace. ‘Yer’ll find what yer want in there, sweetheart. Don’t worry about looking for an old one if all ye’re going to do is wet it. I’m quite well off for sheets and pillowcases.’
‘Ay, don’t be sitting there like Lady Muck, telling us how well off yer are.’ Ada opened the cupboard door and smiled when she saw the sheets, pillowcases, tablecloths and tea towels in neat piles. She took out a pillowcase and passed it to Hetty, before saying, ‘Yer put me to shame, Eliza. My cupboard looks a shambles compared to yours. If Jimmy or one of the kids want anything, they just pull it out and leave the rest crumpled up.’
Jean came through from the kitchen carrying a bowl of water. ‘While ye’re near the cupboard, Ada, would yer get one of the big towels out, please?’ She put the bowl down on the table. ‘Eliza will need a thick towel under her foot so the couch won’t get wet.’
Hetty stayed on her knees and passed the pillowcase to Jean. ‘Soak it in the water, girl, and then wring most of the water out.’
Ten minutes later, the old lady had a cushion under her foot to keep it raised, and a cold compress wrapped around the swollen ankle. ‘The compress will need changing quite often, so if you want to go to the shops, Jean, me and Hetty will stay here until yer come back.’
Jean shook her head. ‘No, you were on yer way to the shops when I nabbed yer, so you do yer shopping first and I’ll sit with Eliza.’
Struggling to her feet, Ada nodded. ‘We’ll be back as quick as we can, to relieve yer. Then yer can get yer own shopping done, and whatever Eliza wants.’ She bent to kiss the old lady’s cheek. ‘A couple of days, sunshine, and yer’ll be running around like a two-year-old. Until then, sit back and let us spoil yer.’
Linking arms with Hetty as they walked down the street, Ada said, ‘Poor old soul. It must be rotten to get to that age and live on yer own.’
‘Yeah,’ Hetty agreed. ‘From all accounts she is someone who was always on the go, kept her house spotless, and helped anyone in the street who was down on their luck.’
‘Growing old is something that comes to all of us, sunshine, it’s the one thing we can do nothing about. But don’t let’s make ourselves miserable by thinking of it. We’ve got a good way to go to reach Eliza’s age.’
They were outside the butcher’s by this time, and Hetty asked, ‘What are yer getting for tonight’s dinner?’
Ada chuckled. ‘I put it to the vote last night, and all hands went up for Cumberland sausage fried with onions, on top of mashed potatoes.’
‘That sounds good, queen,’ Hetty said. ‘Yer won’t mind if I copy yer, will yer?’
‘Of course I don’t mind. Yer know what they say, sunshine, about copying being the most sincere form of flattery.’
When they walked into the shop the butcher raised his brows. ‘Ye’re late today, ladies. I’d almost given yer up. In fact, and Barry here will tell yer it’s true, I was beginning to think I’d got me days mixed up, and today was Friday.’
‘We got waylaid, Ronnie,’ Hetty told him. ‘One of our neighbours needed help.’
‘Yeah, we haven’t half had some excitement, Ronnie. It’s been like something yer see in the pictures.’
Hetty looked up at her friend, puzzlement on her face. She hadn’t found the events of the morning exciting. Worrying, yes, but never exciting. She was about to query Ada’s remark when a sharp kick in the shin told her it would be to her advantage to keep her mouth shut.
‘I could do with a bit of excitement,’ Ronnie said, ‘so what’s been happening?’
Ada leaned her two elbows on the counter, a sure sign she had a tale to tell. ‘One of our neighbours is elderly, in her eighties. She’s a lovely old soul; everyone in the street thinks the world of her.’
Now Ronnie wanted a bit of excitement to liven things up a bit, but he didn’t want any sad news. ‘Ay, ye’re not going to tell me she’s died, are yer, Ada? It’s nourishment I want, not ruddy punishment.’
‘Of course she hasn’t died, yer soft nit! She fell over in her bedroom and twisted her ankle. She couldn’t move ’cos she was in agony. She couldn’t get down the stairs, so she was sat on the edge of the bed from seven o’clock until one of the neighbours knocked. And although she shouted down the stairs, Jean, the neighbour, couldn’t hear her. And Jean was worried about her, what with not hearing any noise from the house and getting no answer. So she told me and Hetty. We looked through the window and couldn’t see any sign of life.’ She put her hand on Hetty’s shoulder. ‘Me mate here will tell yer I’m not lying, Ronnie.’
‘No one said yer were lying, Ada, so just get on with it! Is the old lady still sitting on the side of the bed? And if she couldn’t open the door to yer, how did yer know she’d hurt her ankle?’
Ada stood up straight and put her hands on her hips. ‘Who’s telling this story, Ronnie Atwill, you or me?’
The butcher held his hands up in surrender. ‘You are, Ada, but ye’re not half spinning it out. Why not let Hetty tell us? She’ll be quicker.’
‘Because it wasn’t Hetty what went for the ladder, that’s why!’
It was hard to know which face showed the most surprise, Ronnie, his young assistant Barry, or Hetty. But Hetty was quick to avert her face, and she left it to the butcher to ask, ‘What ladder, Ada? Where does a ladder come into it?’
‘Because we couldn’t get in the house any other way, soft lad, and we had to find out whether the old lady was all right or not. So yer know Bob Gibbons, the glazier who lives a few streets away? Well, I had to run round to his house to borrow a ladder. He was at work, and of course he had all his big ladders with him in his van. But his wife was very helpful, and let me take the one he keeps in the yard for emergencies. It’s what yer call an extending ladder, like two ladders in one. It wasn’t half heavy to carry. I bet me shoulder’s black and blue with the weight.’
When Ada stopped for breath, and for inspiration, Ronnie asked, ‘Yer didn’t carry that heavy ladder on yer own, did yer?’
Hetty said a little prayer asking God to forgive her for telling lies, but she had to help her mate out. ‘She did, Ronnie, all on her own. I would have helped, but she didn’t ask, she just ran off without saying where she was going.’
‘Well, when I left yer, I didn’t know Bob was going to be out at work and I’d have to carry the bloody ladder meself, did I? Anyway, I managed to carry it, even though it did take it out of me. And carrying the ladder was the easy part. The worst part was climbing up it, and then having to hold on with one hand while shoving the window up with the other.’
‘And don’t forget to tell Ronnie yer were also worried about people looking up yer clothes and seeing yer knickers.’ Hetty was getting into the spirit of things now. In her mind’s eye, she could see Ada on top of the ladder, hanging on like grim death. ‘Ronnie won’t get embarrassed, he’s a married man.’
‘Yer didn’t climb through the window, did yer, Ada?’ Ronnie thought she was having him on at first, but she looked so serious he started to believe her.
‘There was no other way of getting into the house, Ronnie, unless we’d broken the door down. And there was no point in me lugging a big ladder the length of three streets if I wasn’t going to make use of it.’ Ada gave a good imitation of a heartfelt sigh. ‘I was terrified climbing through that window, though. I had to hang on tight when I cocked me leg through. Me heart was in me mouth the whole time. I’ve always been afraid of heights, so how I did it, I’ll never know. I just kept telling meself there was an old lady in the house, and she could be very ill for all we knew.’
‘It was your good deed fo
r the day,’ Hetty said, her head nodding slowly. ‘Wasn’t it, queen? You saved the day.’
‘I don’t know about being a good deed,’ Ronnie said. ‘I think it was a very stupid thing to do. Yer could have been killed.’
‘It wasn’t as stupid as you falling for it, sunshine.’ Ada bent double with laughter. ‘If only yer could have seen yer face, Ronnie. It was a picture.’
Ronnie pursed his lips for a few seconds, his mind working overtime. ‘The look on my face won’t be a patch on yours when I tell yer we’ve got no Cumberland sausage in.’
The two women looked stunned. ‘How did yer know we wanted Cumberland sausage?’
‘We heard yer talking on the way in, and I said to Barry, they’re going to be disappointed.’
But Ada had detected a smirk on the young assistant’s face. ‘Oh, well, in that case we’ll have to walk along to the Co-op. It’s not far; the walk will do us good.’
The butcher grinned. ‘Tit for tat, Ada. You pulled my leg, I pull yours. So, was it a pound of Cumberland for both of yer?’
‘Ye’re a cheeky bugger, Ronnie Atwill,’ Ada said. ‘But because Hetty’s got corns what are giving her gyp, we’ll take the sausage off yer to save her the walk.’
Now Hetty had never had a corn in her life, but she didn’t relish another kick on the shin, so she smiled. ‘Suits me, Ada, and it’s very thoughtful of yer to remember me corns.’
Chapter Four
Ada was wiping her wet hands down her pinny when she came through from the kitchen after washing the breakfast dishes. She’d put a light under the kettle, promising herself a quiet half-hour with a cup of tea. Then she let out a sigh when her eyes caught sight of a few finger marks on the front window. That would be young Paul’s fault, knocking to tell his mate to wait for him and they’d walk to school together. She was forever telling him off about it, but it was like talking to the wall. When he got home today, though, she’d give him a right telling off, for now the windows wanted cleaning. And although she wasn’t in the mood, she knew she’d only worry herself silly for the rest of the day if she didn’t give the panes a good going over with the shammy leather. She’d always prided herself on having the cleanest windows in the street, and the whitest front step, and she wasn’t going to lower her standards, even if it did mean her cup of tea would have to wait.
The water was hot in the kettle, so Ada poured it into the washing-up bowl with some cold water from the tap. Then she added a large tablespoonful of vinegar before throwing in the shammy leather. The vinegar had been a tip from her mother when she was only about ten years old. She could see her mother’s face now, as she told her that the secret of sparkling windows was adding a drop of vinegar to the water, and having a good shammy leather. It was a tip Ada had never forgotten.
In front of the window was a small round wooden table, upon which stood a very healthy aspidistra plant that was Ada’s pride and joy. And as she lifted it from its spot, she said, ‘I’m sorry to disturb yer, sunshine, but if I don’t clean the windows I’ll be the talk of every wash-house from here to the Pier Head.’ The plant was placed on the table, while a chair was taken out and carried to the window. The draw curtains were pulled back and the nets taken down, before Ada wrung the water out of the shammy leather and climbed on to the wooden seat of the dining chair. She didn’t feel very safe on the chair which was old and rickety, so while her right hand went to work on the top two panes of glass, her left hand clung to the wall. And she let out a sigh of relief when the top panes were clean enough to pass her inspection, and she was able to climb down from the chair. ‘One of these days I’ll have enough money to buy a pair of steps like Hetty’s got,’ she told the aspidistra as she put the chair back under the table. ‘They’re not half handy. And a damn sight safer than a ruddy chair.’ Then she patted the rail at the top of the chair. ‘I shouldn’t moan about yer, God knows. I’ve had yer since I got married, and yer were second-hand then!’
After rinsing the shammy leather and wringing it out, Ada walked back with the intention of cleaning the bottom windows. But her attention was caught by the sight of two neighbours opposite, Jean Bowers and Edith Benson, who lived on the other side of Eliza Porter. They were deep in conversation, their faces serious as their heads kept nodding. There was no reason why the two women shouldn’t be talking to each other, for they were good friends. But the smiles that were usually on their faces weren’t there, and that was what made Ada wonder if anything was wrong with the old lady. And, she told herself, the only way to find out was to ask. So the shammy went back in the water and Ada took her pinny off, threw it over the back of a chair and made for the front door.
‘If I’m pushing me nose in where it’s not wanted, ladies, then just tell me to take a running jump. But from yer faces, I got the impression yer weren’t telling each other jokes. So I’m here to ask if there’s anything wrong?’
‘We were discussing Eliza,’ Jean said. ‘We both think she’s gone down the nick since that incident with her ankle. Oh, she’s not complaining, Ada, but we feel she’s changed, don’t we, Edith?’
‘She’s not steady on her feet, although if yer ask her, she says she’s fine.’ Edith had been Eliza’s neighbour for twenty years, and she was really fond of the old lady. ‘Another thing, she’s not eating very well. I take her dinner in to her, and when I go back she says it was lovely, and her plate is empty. I haven’t told her I know, but I happened to look out of the back window when I was upstairs yesterday, and I saw her emptying her plate in the bin.’
Jean moved a few feet away and beckoned them to follow. ‘One thing she does have is good hearing. I’d hate her to know we were talking about her.’
‘I’ve asked yer before to let me and Hetty share the responsibility of looking after her, but yer’ve always insisted yer can manage. It’s too much for both of yer, though, with yer own families to look after. So let me and Hetty take a turn to give yer a break. Eliza won’t think anything, ’cos we often call in. We’ll give her a knock on our way to the shops and see what we think of her. She won’t know you’ve been talking to me, and we’ll just pretend it’s a friendly call. Perhaps she’s just feeling under the weather, or hasn’t got over the shock of spraining her ankle. It takes a long time for anyone as old as Eliza to get over a shock. If it’s not that, and she really is failing, then perhaps yer should tell her son.’
Edith nodded. ‘We were talking about that before yer came over. But we’ll see what you and Hetty think before doing anything. It’s no good worrying him unless it’s really necessary.’
‘That’s true, just leave it for now,’ Ada agreed. ‘I’ll have to finish cleaning me windows, then I’ll give Hetty a shout over the yard wall. It’ll be about half an hour before we get to Eliza’s. If we are concerned about her, I’ll call and let yer know. If yer don’t hear from us, yer’ll know we both agree that there’s nothing to be concerned about. Is that all right with you two?’
Jean smiled. ‘I feel a bit better already. Yer see, both me and Edith are inclined to imagine trouble. My Gordon says I go looking for it. So I’m glad you and Hetty are going to see the old lady. I think yer’ve both got more sense than us.’
Ada chuckled. ‘If my feller heard yer saying that, he’d laugh his head off. He thinks I was at the back of the queue when they were giving brains out.’
It was Edith’s turn to chuckle. ‘At least yer were in the queue, even if yer were at the back. Me, now, I didn’t even know there was a queue.’
Ada stepped from the pavement on to the cobbles. ‘We can’t all have brains and beauty, sunshine, so thank God for small mercies.’ She began to cross the street. ‘Me and me mate will give yer a knock on our way back from the shops. But if we don’t, that means we don’t see any need for it. Ta-ra for now.’
‘I knew it was too good to be true,’ Hetty said with feeling. ‘I did tell yer that it would take a while for the old dear to get over the shock, didn’t I?’
‘All right, sunshine,
keep yer ruddy hair on!’ Ada couldn’t help laughing at the expression on her friend’s face. ‘Yer looking at me as if I had disagreed with yer diagnosis.’
Hetty’s face went blank. ‘What are yer talking about? Where did yer get the word diagnosis from, and what does it mean?’
‘I don’t know what it means. I heard a doctor saying it while I was in the hospital for an examination when I was pregnant with our Paul. The doctor wasn’t talking to me, like, he was talking to another doctor. I took it to mean it was his opinion.’
‘When yer were expecting your Paul!’ Hetty’s voice came out in a squeak. ‘That’s over ten years ago! How could yer remember a word like that for ten years, and still not know what it means?’
‘What good would it have done me, in those ten years, to know what it means? Just how often would I be able to throw it into a conversation without people thinking I was bonkers?’
‘It would have satisfied yer curiosity.’
‘But I’ve never been curious! I had other things on me mind at the time, being eight months pregnant and as big as a ruddy house. The last thing on me mind was a lesson in English.’ Ada was having a good laugh inside, but she managed to keep her face deadpan. ‘And d’yer know what, Hetty, I’m sorry I brought the word up now, ’cos it’s been a waste of time. Neither of us are any the wiser, and I’m fast losing the will to live.’
‘Don’t be so ruddy dramatic, girl, ’cos yer’d never make an Ethel Barrymore.’ Hetty decided to get her own back. ‘Ye’re too big in the bust for it, and yer voice is too common.’
‘Oh, well, we can’t all have everything we want in life, sunshine. At least I’m not as unlucky as you.’
‘What d’yer mean? Why d’yer think I’m more unlucky than you?’
‘Well, for starters, I haven’t got a mate what is fat, and as common as muck.’
Hetty leaned her elbows on the sideboard while she eyed her friend from head to toe. ‘I see yer point, girl, but I could have done worse. Ivy Thompson is twice the size of you, and she’s so common I can’t understand a word she says.’