by stan graham
We are enjoying a late Indian Summer at the moment although enjoying is hardly the word I would use. I don’t know why it’s called that although I am sure Arthur’s Uncle Mike could tell me if he is still around. Fortunately the last time I saw him was at Arthur’s funeral. I wonder if the landlord has considered putting in air conditioning?
I haven’t been well for a few days, sneezing and coughing up lots of yellow phlegm. I must have a chest infection. However it has given me time to think about the problem of Elvis and plan my campaign. It was either the flu jab or when I went out to retrieve Elvis’s body. I shan’t be having another one of them.
I keep a close watch on Tontine to see whether he gets up to any more mischief. If only I could catch him with a catapult or some sort of gun but he is too crafty. Everybody seems to think that the death of Elvis is unimportant but I think wanton cruelty should never be overlooked. I am certain it was Dave Tontine and so I have decided on a plan of action. I will make him pay one way or another.
I have sent his name and address in reply to a Gay Men Catalogue that I saw advertised in the local paper. I have also surfed the web and found a website that specialises in practical jokes. That has given me a few ideas, but more of that later.
It doesn’t do to upset my Janice she can be really spiteful when she is put out. I could tell you a few tales but I wouldn’t want to put her in a bad light. Just bear in mind that she never ever forgives a slight.
This time of the year is when Arthur used get me to make his Elderberry wine and I am continuing to do it. This morning I went scouring the hedges and managed to collect about four pounds of berries. This I took home and having crushed them have boiled them up with two pounds of sugar and then drained off about two demijohns of thick burgundy coloured syrup. I allowed it to cool before adding two spoonfuls of yeast to each, then I stoppered them with an airlock and will leave them in the airing cupboard until Christmas. Arthur used to make Elderflower Champagne in the Spring, or rather I used to make it under his guidance. The first time it was so fizzy that when we opened a bottle it spurted up and hit the ceiling, just like real Champagne. It was delicious but I am afraid of the bottles bursting so I don’t make it any more. I’m not really a drinker myself and nobody else seems to like them so perhaps this year will be the last time that I make any.
I keep getting letters from the bank asking me to call in but I haven’t got the time or energy to be doing with that. That’s their job to worry about my money not mine.
I might go and visit the doctor as I have been feeling tired all the time despite which I cannot get to sleep at night. I will call in tomorrow at the surgery.
Nobody came to see me today.
Called in at the surgery and spoke to the receptionist who managed to squeeze me in between a mother with a child that had a nasty cough and a man who looked like there was nothing wrong with him. Probably one of these work-shy skivers that I am always reading about.
After a thirty-minute wait I was able to get into see Dr Turner. Such a nice man. He asked me how I was so I told him I was fine. He frowned and asked me why I was there in that case. I told him I was having trouble sleeping and he asked if anything was worrying me. I said no but told him I wasn’t happy at Paradise Lodge. I tried to tell him about Elvis but once he realised that he wasn’t a close relative but a squirrel he seemed to lose interest.
He asked if I was feeling depressed. I said wouldn’t anybody be depressed living with a bunch of geriatrics all day. He listened to all my problems and he asked me if I thought antidepressants might help. I wasn’t too keen as I don’t want to get addicted to them but he reassured me that they were non-addictive. He then said I could have a fortnight’s supply of sleeping pills and then to come back and we could talk again.
I told him that Mr Harness had diabetes and it seemed that many of the residents had and was there any risk of me catching it from them. He laughed and told me not to fret that these were old wives tales and there was absolutely no chance of me catching it off somebody else. Well that’s a weight off my mind.
The pills seem to get me asleep but when I awake I feel fuzzy all day. Don’t like taking them and feeling like this.
I was watching my Casablanca DVD last night when there was a fierce knocking from the flat below. It was that Joan Terrapin, I could hear her shouting something but couldn’t make out the words so I turned the TV up to drowned her racket. Then she came upstairs and banged on my front door.
“Turn your TV down I can’t hear myself think” she said.
“What’s that? I’ll just turn the television down I had to turn it up because of all that banging,” I said, “it’s not my fault that I am a bit hard of hearing.”
“I realise that dear but could you just turn it down a little or buy yourself a pair of headphones?”
”What a good idea, headphones, I never would have thought of that.”
A lady has just pushed a Betterware catalogue in to my letter box, it says on it that her name is Susan and that she will call back to collect it. I saw her enter the compound carrying a large bag. I have looked through it but there is not anything that is of interest to me. However I have decided to buy something, a set of plastic dishes that I can use in my microwave. Not because I need them but I think we should support people that are trying to start their own business. Besides it means she will have to call to deliver it and collect my money so at least I will have somebody to talk to. I must remember to leave the catalogue out for her to collect on Wednesday.
Put the catalogue out and saw the lady come for it so I opened my door and told her I had bought something. She gave me a big smile and thanked me. Poor dear one must encourage those who are less fortunate than oneself.
I am keeping an eye out to see if there is a badger using the compound I but haven’t seen him yet. Jack told me it was more likely to be a fox as they can travel miles looking for food and will kill anything. I do hope both these animals are innocent, I can’t imagine Mr Brock or Brer Fox harming Elvis.
I was just going out this morning when Mr Harness called across and asked me if I would get him a Sun newspaper. Of course I told he that I was not his servant and had no intention of being at his or anybody else’s beck and call.
“You will need help yourself one day.”
“No I won’t, and if I did I wouldn’t be asking you for it. Besides you should be ashamed of yourself reading that newspaper with naked women in it.”
“Stuck up old cow,” I heard him mutter as I turned away. I nearly gave him a piece of my mind about good manners but decided that I wasn’t going to lower myself to his level. Maybe he deserves the Tontine treatment. I phoned a minicab service and asked them to send him a car to take him to the cemetery.
I am really getting into the hang of this revenge system and have phoned; from a call box naturally, six different pizza companies to deliver to Mr Tontine and especially asked that they should be sprinkled with squirrel nuts. I had to explain that I meant hazelnuts to one of the men taking the order but the others just said ‘Squirrel nuts, right.’ This is just the beginning. Something Arthur told me several years ago when he had a troublesome under-manager reminded me.
I remember that I had been having trouble with this chap who was trying to undermine my authority so I sent him a Valentine card to his home address. Apparently his wife got to it and gave him a right cross-questioning. A month later he applied for a transfer to our branch in Leicester. Always has been afraid of someone taking advantage of her good nature my Janice. Not that it has ever happened. She is as sparing of her time as she is of her money. Can’t say as I blame her either, people are only to quick to take advantage if you show any sign of weakness as I found when I ran the store.
I let a boy off that I caught shoplifting once and a week later he was back stealing again. He couldn’t understand why I wasn’t prepared to let him off again. As I said to Janice once is debatable but twice is a flipping liberty. I operated a zero tolerance from that
day onwards. His parents threatened to boycott my store if I pressed charges but I told them I could afford to lose their custom. Not that it did much good the police weren’t interested. Just gave him a telling off, should have sent him to Borstal.
Anyway I sent him a letter saying “Act natural the police are watching you. A friend.” Bet that put the fear of god into him.
To church this morning, one is noticed by ones absence. After the service the Reverend Clarke announced that he had produced a Parish Magazine and that we could help ourselves to a copy from the table by the door. He said that any donations towards its cost would be appreciated so I put 50p onto the saucer. It is quite enterprising, I never realised that he had such a wide range of interests or a sense of humour. There is a history of the church, apparently it was built fifty years ago as a result of demand from the parishioners and some of the original worshippers still attend. That will be Ada Lovage, aged ninety- three, the vicar mentioned it was her birthday last month, a Virgo, and Edith Flack who looks about a hundred years old and he says he hopes to see them for many more years to come. He mentioned the Harvest Festival that we had last month, apparently the food was shipped to foreign parts as part of a food aid programme.
I spoke to the vicar about Elvis being killed but he seemed to get the wrong end of the stick and said he had died of a heart attack. He thought I meant the real Elvis so I had to put him straight. He wasn’t impressed and said something about forgiving ones neighbours until I reminded him of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. He then said I should let sleeping dogs lie. Silly old fool.
The outside door to our building has broken down. You press the button and nothing happens. They changed it so that we didn’t have to give out our code as lots of people forgot what the code was and couldn’t get into their own blocks. So they just have a big button that says Press. Anyway I pressed and pressed and nothing happened so I just shoved the door open. Smythe told me off for doing that when I first moved in but he’s gone so who cares. One must be able to get in and out. I shall have to mention it to Dave Tontine, he’s taken the role of the landlords gofer. Must act normal so that he doesn’t realise how much I despise him.
We had a cold snap last night and this morning I watched all the leaves on an ash tree fall off in the space of about two hours. There was a whoosh at 5am and then I looked out the window and saw the leaves jostling to reach the ground first.
The Betterware lady turned up with my goods later this morning.
“That is certainly good service” I said to her.
“I’m trying to get my business off the ground and I think prompt service is a necessity,” she replied. “Would you like me to leave you a new catalogue in case there is something else that might interest you? I also have an Avon catalogue that you might find interesting, very good value cosmetics and a lady can’t be without them can she? ”
Anyway she seems very friendly so I agreed to take them both and I expect I shall buy something out of both when she calls to collect them.
“Have they mended the door yet” I asked?
“Well I had no trouble getting in” she replied.
The door must have fixed itself because I never had time to tell anybody yesterday.
The car park and exit is covered with leaves, someone will have a nasty fall if they are not careful. Dave Tontine used to sweep them up but now that Smythe has gone he hasn’t bothered. I think Smythe used to pay him a couple of pounds to do it.
One of the ideas I got from that website I told you about was to advertise in Mr D.T.’s name for television sets bought and sold. Then I wrote anonymously to the Inland Revenue and tipped them off that he wasn’t declaring income tax on his business.
I went back to the doctors but Dr Turner wasn’t on duty. Apparently he is off for a month on some course. Well I said that that just wasn’t satisfactory but agreed to allow Dr Roberts to see me instead.
I wasn’t sure of him at first as he spoke with a staccato delivery like a machine gun.
“Good morning Mrs Bond. Please take a seat. Sorry that Dr Turner isn’t available. What can I do for you? You seem to have been on sleeping pills. Did they help?”
“Yes thank you Doctor.”
“So do you need any more? A months supply this time I think. I will just give you a prescription. Now is there anything else I can help you with? No, there is a mention on your notes that you might be suffering from depression. Has that cleared up then? A good nights sleep can do wonders can’t it. I think I will just take your blood pressure, just to be on the safe side. Yes 125 over 75, that is very good. Your heart seems to be sound, certainly no problems there. Well if there is nothing else then good morning and thank you for coming.”
There is no point in wasting a visit so I thought I would confirm with him what Dr Turner had said about diabetes.
“I’m sorry to impose like this doctor but is there any chance of me catching diabetes from my neighbour?”
“Has that been worrying you? No none whatsoever. It’s not an infectious disease at all. So set your mind at rest. I examine at least ten patients a week who have it and I haven’t caught it”
My what a nice man. So understanding. I shall ask to see him again next time. What I cannot understand though is why they tell you to come back in a month and then the receptionist tells me that I can only book appointments for three weeks in advance. And that Dr Turner telling me to come back in two weeks when he knew he would be away on a course. I wonder if he is trying to avoid me.
I don’t know, you go about twice a year and even that’s too much for them while others go every week.
We had some nice holidays, We went to Southend on Sea once, that was really lovely. The beach wasn’t up to much being a mudflat but the pier was nice. There were mainly Londoners there on holiday, cockneys I think they are called, from London’s East End, wherever that is. I mean is it like Southend? We met a lovely couple staying at the same guest house as us. George and Ethel they were called. They told us they came down every year for the sea air and the jellied eels. We tried a bowl full between us and I can’t say that I was enamoured of them but Arthur said they were quite tasty. He told me he might see if his store could stock them but I don’t think anything came of it. These things are aright to have when you are on holiday but they don’t taste the same without the sea air and holiday atmosphere.
Nobody from the Charity shop has called to ask me back. I thought Helena might have stayed in touch but she hasn’t. Fair weather friends.
Despite the rain I took a bus to Liddlemouth, I thought it would be okay now that the tourists are gone but it was a disappointment. I haven’t seen Helena since I left the shop so I was on my own. I went to my usual café on the front but it had closed down at the end of the season. There was nowhere to sit along the promenade, the shelters had vagrants sleeping in them. They don’t allow it while the visitors are there but once they have left anything goes.
I found another cafe, not as good as the one I was used too, and a man tried to accost me, asking if I minded him sitting at my table. I pointed out that there were other tables and directed him to one. However I could sense the bad feeling coming off him so I had to walk away without finishing my tea. Such a waste of money.
Do I look like the sort of woman who could be picked up in a café like a tart?
People think they can impose on you just because you are on your own. It is such impertinence. Arthur would not have allowed it to happen. He would have given him a piece of his mind. The bus ride back was no better; the bus was late and when I complained I got a mouthful of abuse from the driver. I told him I would report him and then he told me that he wouldn’t accept my bus pass and that I would have to get off. I got another bus that wasn’t my usual one but then I had to sit next to a woman who did nothing but complain. In the end I had to shift my seat. She gave me a dirty look and muttered about me being stuck up. Normally I will talk to anybody but I just didn’t feel like it today. I just wanted s
ome time to myself, is that too much to ask for? I got back home an hour late and thoroughly tired, wet and miserable. I knew I should never have gone back on my earlier decision but what is the point of living near the seaside if you do not visit it occasionally. If only I knew somebody who owned a car but I am not going to ask for favours, I learnt my lesson with that Oliver Jonson.
The clocks go back today, well last night actually so I got an extra hour in bed, except that I couldn’t sleep so it didn’t do me any good. I just tossed and turned for an extra hour. I know I should have just got up but I couldn’t bring myself to. Not that I am a lazy person mind you, nobody can call me that.
Strangely enough neither Peter nor Jane have come to visit. I could understand them not visiting during the summer when everything is so expensive but I would have thought that since then they could have popped in especially this week when it’s the anniversary of their fathers’ death. When I asked them on the phone they made excuses. I suppose I should be grateful that Jane still telephones occasionally even if it is not so often. I told Jane about my visit to Liddlemouth but she wasn’t sympathetic. She said that I should be grateful that somebody thought I looked approachable and that they were probably as lonely as I am. “I’m not lonely and I certainly don’t want some sad old person to approach me,” I said.