The Mixture As Before

by Rosie Harris

  ‘If you’re lonely then it’s better to have a dog, I always think,’ Thelma said with a laugh.

  ‘I’ve already tried that,’ Margaret reminded them and once again recounted her interlude of looking after Bellamy for Gordon Bond while he was away on holiday for two weeks.

  ‘It’s not simply a question of loneliness, not in Margaret’s case,’ Jan mused. ‘It’s a question of putting some cash in her pocket.’

  ‘Mm! Well, for my part I’d sooner take a job than do that,’ Thelma affirmed. ‘Much more rewarding financially, and far more satisfactory in every other way.’

  ‘That’s all very well for you, Thelma. You’ve always worked and you have a job you like,’ protested Brenda. ‘What chance has Margaret of finding work when she’s been a housewife for the past forty years?’

  ‘Don’t you start!’ Margaret rounded on her angrily. ‘I’ve just been through all that with Charles telling me that not only am I too old to get a job because I’m not computer literate but that shorthand and typing are things of the past.’

  ‘Unfortunately, he’s probably right,’ affirmed Jan.

  ‘Maybe. I still didn’t enjoy hearing him say so.’

  ‘Computerization has a lot to do with it, of course. At one time as long as you could read and write you could find work. Age didn’t seem to matter.’

  ‘No, they were quite happy to employ older women as receptionists, just as long as they looked smart and had their wits about them,’ agreed Brenda.

  ‘They certainly aren’t prepared to do that today,’ stated Thelma.

  ‘Now, you even have to go on a course of instructions if you want to help out as a voluntary worker in one of the charity shops,’ said Brenda, laughing.

  ‘That’s true, I got the shock of my life when I went along and offered to do one morning a week and they told me I’d have to go on a three-day course,’ Thelma said gloomily.

  Margaret looked interested. ‘What did the course entail? Do either of you remember?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. I didn’t bother to go,’ Thelma said. ‘I couldn’t do with all that nonsense. I thought it was so unnecessary. At my age I’m perfectly capable of handing things over the counter and taking their money and I told them so.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Brenda chuckled, ‘I don’t know why we’re bothering to talk about it since they don’t pay. You can’t afford to waste your time doing anything like that, now can you, Margaret?’

  ‘It will have to be the lodger,’ agreed Thelma brusquely. ‘Now, do you want us to scout around and try and find someone suitable?’

  ‘No, no!’ Margaret felt alarmed. ‘Not for the moment, anyway. I need time to think about it. I’ll have to psych myself up for it.’

  Twenty-Seven

  Margaret found that managing without a car was even more restricting than having to ask Reginald to drive her everywhere.

  She wished she’d gone ahead, and used her savings to buy the yellow sports car. She’d had every intention of doing so, but after the way Charles had gone on about the state of her finances, it had seemed prudent to wait awhile.

  For one thing, there was still the question of Jason’s bill to be sorted out. She had meant to talk to Charles about it but in the end decided not to do so.

  After Charles telling her what dire straits they were in she’d felt apprehensive about what he would say when he saw how much it was. She decided that the best thing to do was send it on to Charles at the office. She wouldn’t even put a note in with it. She’d keep her fingers crossed that he’d pay it without any comment.

  If he did and she didn’t have to use her savings to settle it, then she certainly would go ahead and buy a car even though she had probably left it too late to buy the yellow sports car that had taken her eye.

  In the meantime she’d have to resort to public transport and take a taxi when necessary. It wasn’t as though she was stranded. The railway station was within walking distance and there was a bus service to Maidenhead and from there to Windsor, High Wycombe, and to countless other places.

  It took much longer than by car, though, and if it was raining there was the inconvenience of having to carry an umbrella. Coming home was even worse. Tired, laden with shopping, struggling in and out of trains and buses, took away all the enjoyment of a day out. A taxi might be extravagant but it was so much easier and brought her right to the door.

  She found that supermarket shopping was the greatest problem. She was used to making a monthly trip and stocking up with everything from meat and vegetables to soap powder and cleaning items. She soon found that this was far too big a load for even the most friendly taxi driver to help her with. They didn’t even open the car door for you these days, she reflected, far less carry your groceries inside the front door for you.

  ‘Of course I’ll take you to the supermarket, Mother. You only have to ask,’ Charles promised when she mentioned the matter to him. ‘We’ll collect you next time we go. I usually take them as soon as I’ve finished work on a Friday.’

  The trip had been a disaster.

  Too late Margaret had discovered that Helen went to a different supermarket to the one she normally used so she had felt disorientated and unable to locate half the items she needed.

  Added to that, Petra and Amanda had gone with them, and Petra had insisted on helping Margaret load her trolley. This had proved to be a tremendous distraction. Helen and Charles were through the checkout and waiting to go home long before she had finished traipsing up and down the aisles.

  Impatiently, Helen had helped her unload the items at the checkout and had then packed the items into bags while Charles took their shopping out to load in his car.

  Normally, Margaret stopped for a coffee at the supermarket cafeteria before she went home but Helen wouldn’t spare the time. She wanted to get home as soon as possible because she had frozen items that she wanted to put away in the freezer as soon as possible.

  ‘We’ll drop you off first,’ Charles told her as they struggled to stack her bags of groceries into the boot of his car.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be best if you took Helen and the girls home first? She seemed anxious about getting her frozen items stored away.’

  ‘No. We’ll do it my way, Mother. Please don’t argue.’

  His patronizing tone infuriated her. Tight-lipped, she squashed into the back seat between the two girls. They were both fed up but their faces lit up when she produced a ten-pound note for each of them.

  ‘Give that money back,’ ordered Helen from the front seat, glaring over her shoulder at them.

  ‘Oh, Mum, must we?’ they grumbled in unison.

  ‘Yes! Granny should have known better.’

  ‘But Mummy …’

  ‘That will do,’ barked Charles. ‘Hand the money back to your granny this minute.’ Reluctantly the girls complied.

  Margaret placed a comforting arm around each of them. ‘I’ll give them to you next time I see you,’ she whispered.

  She sensed Charles was watching her in the driving mirror and knew he disapproved. There was a brusque coldness in his manner when they reached Willow House.

  As she fumbled with her door key he unloaded her shopping from his car and dumped it all on the doorstep.

  She waved and blew kisses to the two girls as he roared away. Their response was pathetic. Helen didn’t even wave.

  ‘I’ll certainly not ask Charles to take me shopping ever again,’ she told herself aloud as she unpacked the shopping bags and stored things away in the freezer and cupboards.

  Next time she was low on supplies she phoned Steven.

  ‘He’s away, up North somewhere,’ Sandra told her. ‘He went yesterday so he won’t be back for two or three days. Can I give him a message?’

  ‘No, it’s not important,’ Margaret told her. She waited for her daughter-in-law to enquire how she was but she didn’t.

  ‘I’ll tell him to ring you when he gets back,’ Sandra said airily, replacing her receiver even before Marga
ret had time to ask after Matthew and Hannah.

  Choked by frustration and self-pity, Margaret poured herself a gin and tonic. There was still Alison, of course. She would probably be willing to arrange a regular monthly shopping trip. Or would she?

  Alison had her own family commitments too. For one thing, there always had to be someone at home to answer the phone in case Mark was needed at the hospital. Still, it was worth a try, Margaret decided.

  At one time they had spent a day together at least once a week, window-shopping, or buying clothes. They’d certainly not done anything as mundane as shopping for food.

  Mark answered the phone. ‘Alison’s not here at the moment. I’ll leave a note for her to ring you the moment she comes in.’

  ‘No, no, it’s alright. It’s not terribly important. I simply wanted to ask her to come shopping with me.’

  ‘Women!’ Mark’s cynical laugh jarred on her ears.

  That was it, she decided. She would never again ask any of the family to help her. How could they all be so selfish, she wondered.

  Looking back, it made Reginald seem almost caring the way he had always been willing to take her to the supermarket. Once the routine had been established and he confined himself to loading the car and then bringing all the bags indoors when they reached home, it hadn’t been too bad.

  It seemed pathetic that she couldn’t cope on her own, she told herself severely. How on earth did she think she was ever going to get a job if she couldn’t even organize her own monthly shopping trip?

  The more she thought about actually going out to work the more it began to lose its attraction. There was no doubt at all that she had lost confidence in herself and in her ability to cope.

  So what was she to do if there was no money coming in, she wondered? Stop shopping for a start, she thought wryly.

  There was only one answer to her problem, she decided, and that was to do as Charles had suggested and take in a lodger.

  She wasn’t sure how to set about finding one and she didn’t intend to ask the family to advise her or help her, not after the shopping fiasco.

  She didn’t want to ask Jan, Brenda or Thelma. She’d prefer to tell them once it was all accomplished.

  It shouldn’t be all that difficult, she told herself. She had pleasant rooms to offer and they could have a bedroom and a sitting room if that was what they wanted and they were prepared to pay rent to cover both.

  Or, if they merely wanted a bedroom then she could take in two lodgers. That might be a better idea because they would be company for each other.

  She found a pen and paper and began listing what it would cost to have them there. If she intended to give them breakfast and a main meal in the evening, then she would need to work out how much the food was going to cost. Then there was the laundering of the bedclothes.

  She realized that she might find looking after them and keeping their rooms clean too much work for her so she needed to include daily or weekly help into the overall sum.

  She supposed she ought to make a charge for general wear and tear. She would probably have to have rooms redecorated more often and then there were repairs to be considered. Other people were not always as careful when they were living in other people’s homes. Furniture might be accidentally damaged.

  In addition to all this she ought to make a list of do’s and do not’s. No pets, for example, no parties, no coming in so late at night that they disturbed other people in the house. She didn’t want them playing music late at night either.

  She remembered Brenda’s experience of visiting boyfriends and decided she would have to take a stand about visitors. She didn’t want young children there, even for a visit, if they were going to make a mess or too much noise. She most certainly didn’t want a widow or unmarried mother with young children.

  When she totalled everything up Margaret was amazed at the high rent she would need to charge if she was going to make a profit out of letting rooms. She wondered what sort of single person was going to be able to afford to come and live at Willow House. Obviously it would have to be a high-earner, probably a professional man or woman. She’d have to be extremely careful in how she worded her advert, she decided.

  In the end she felt so exhausted she resolved to put off deciding on anything or writing out the advertisement until the following day. She needed to sleep on it; she was no longer all that sure that having a lodger was such a good idea.

  When she woke next morning she thought it through again while drinking her first cup of tea of the day and decided that perhaps finding a job would be a far better move after all.

  Twenty-Eight

  For the next few days, now that she had decided to get a job rather than take in a lodger, Margaret mulled over what sort of work she wanted to do.

  She wasn’t qualified to be a teacher or for any other professional calling so that meant that if Charles was right and shorthand typists were no longer used then the only sort of work that she could apply for were run-of-the-mill jobs.

  She didn’t want to do factory work, cleaning or cooking or caring for old people. She wouldn’t mind being a receptionist at a doctor’s or a dentist’s surgery; or even for a business concern as long as she didn’t have to use a computer.

  The only other kind of work would be in a shop. Not on the till in a supermarket because the continual pinging as the goods passed through the checkout would drive her mad after a time. She certainly didn’t want to stack shelves either. She didn’t fancy a food shop of any description. Possibly a chemist’s or a hairdresser’s, as long as she wasn’t expected to make the coffee and sweep the floor.

  She quite liked the idea of working in a florist’s. Joseph would give her a reference and say how clever she was at arranging flowers and how much she loved them.

  Perhaps the most suitable would be as an assistant in a dress shop, but there were precious few independent ones left and she certainly didn’t want to work for one of the large chain stores.

  The other possibility was a bookshop. She liked reading and it would be interesting knowing what new titles were being published and which authors were the most popular.

  That weekend Margaret studied the vacancies columns in the local newspapers hoping to spot the sort of job she felt capable of doing. The only one that caught her interest was in a card shop and she decided to apply for it. She knew where the shop was and didn’t have to take it if she didn’t like the owner there.

  An hour later she was in Maidenhead. The card shop was in a side street just off the main shopping area. There were two customers already in there when she walked in so she began to browse the stands holding the cards to see what sort of stock they carried.

  There were greeting cards and birthday cards of every description. Some of them shocked her they were so lewd. She wondered if she would be doing the buying, if so, then that type of card would disappear in double quick time.

  The man behind the counter looked middle-aged and studious. He barely glanced up from the sheaf of papers he was sorting through as she went up to the counter after the other customers left.

  ‘Good morning. I’ve come about the vacancy.’

  ‘Vacancy?’ He looked at her so blankly that she wondered if she had come to the wrong card shop.

  ‘The one in the local paper.’

  ‘Oh that! It’s been filled.’ He turned back to the forms he had been filling out.

  ‘It only appeared today.’

  ‘Filled before the paper came out,’ he said tersely not even looking up this time.

  Margaret left the shop feeling deflated. She made her way back into the High Street and went into a small café. As she sat sipping the latte she had ordered she watched the overweight waitress hobbling to and fro serving other customers. She was middle-aged and obviously from the way she was walking she had a bad hip or knee and was in a good deal of pain.

  For a minute Margaret wondered if she ought to ask if they needed a replacement. Then as she looked again at the
woman and saw the strain on her face she decided that it wouldn’t be fair on the poor woman to take her job off her and that it wasn’t the sort of work that she wanted to do anyway.

  Having almost an hour to wait for a bus Margaret decided to go into the public library. There would be up-to-the-minute newspapers in there and she might spot a suitable job in one of them. If it was in Maidenhead then she could apply for it there and then and save having to come back into town again.

  To her surprise and annoyance the space normally set aside as a reading space and where the newspapers were usually to be found was now filled with computers.

  She stood for several minutes staring fascinated by what was on the screen. She was startled when a smartly dressed young librarian assistant appeared and asked, ‘Are you here for a lesson?’

  ‘Good heavens no! I thought this was where the reading room was and where I would find the newspapers. I wanted to see if there were any local jobs advertised,’ she added by way of explanation.

  The assistant looked at her with raised eyebrows. ‘We haven’t had a reading room here for almost a year. As you can see we now utilize the space to house computers. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to sign up for a series of lessons? We do have special sessions for absolute beginners.’

  Flushing with annoyance because the woman obviously sensed she knew nothing at all about computers Margaret made a hurried exit.

  It was a thought though, she mused as she went to the bus stop. If she couldn’t find a job then she might consider taking a computer course.

  As she approached the bus stop a large Vacancies sign outside what looked to be an office caught her eye. Tentatively she went in.

  Inside there were three desks manned by very efficient looking young women. ‘Can I help you?’ one of them asked, looking up with an enquiring smile.

  ‘Your sign outside said “Vacancies”. I am looking for a job. What sort of position do you have available?’

  ‘We haven’t any vacancies here. We are an agency. We have a variety of jobs on our books. What sort of work are you looking for? We can offer you a wide range of professional positions and of course clerical work, shop assistant or even home care and nursing jobs.’