Stranger in Paradise

by stan graham

  I have turned the heating off and am now wearing my coat indoors although what I shall do when I have to go out I don’t know. I suppose that is why Pippa always used to wear that tea cosy affair on her head.

  Got talking to an old lady called Doris who claims to have written loads of books but as I said to Julia “If that was the case how come she’s living here.” Besides I have never heard of her or her books.

  I still haven’t heard from Peter, I was hoping that Jane would give me a ring and let me know what is going on but nothing. I have been abandoned again.

  Mr Harness is on his last legs. I could hear him coughing all night and this morning the doctor called. I was at the door when he left and asked how Mr Harness was.

  “Not long for this earth I’m afraid,” he said shaking his head. “He will need all the friends he can get for the next few weeks.”

  I’ve got enough problems of my own without worrying about him and his self induced illness.

  Mr Harness has died. Tuesday evening it was. The first death of the New Year and a bit more sudden than was expected. He pulled his alarm cord and Eddie an emergency warden from the Careline came scurrying over tut tutting. He let himself in, they have passkeys to all the flats. A few minutes later the doctor arrived and an ambulance turned up but was sent away again as they were not needed. The doctor came out and told me it was all over.

  “At least he won’t keep me awake all night.”

  “I beg your pardon Mrs Bond?”

  “I mean the poor man won’t be suffering any longer.”

  “No, quite.”

  Not very understanding these medical people.

  The Careline worker told me that Mr Harness had no next of kin and that the authorities would be arranging the funeral.

  “Will there be an autopsy?” I watch CSI.

  “No he was under the doctor and it was expected.. They only hold them if it’s an unexpected death, but this was expected, just a question of time.”

  The funeral was held ten days later, that was yesterday, it was freezing cold. There were no relatives just Dr Woloff and myself in attendance, none of his smoking companions bothered to turn up. Dr Woloff said that he felt an obligation to come but that he was surprised to see me there. I told him I was making sure Mr Harness had really gone and that it wasn’t a trick.

  “No, no trick my dear lady,” he said.

  The vicar was somebody the authorities had roped in, apparently they attend on a rota system and this week he drew the lucky straw.

  He didn’t know poor Mr Harness so he just murmured a few platitudes and pushed a button so that the coffin slid through the purple curtains to the crematorium ovens. Mr Harness had left strict instructions that he was to be cremated.

  So unlike dear Arthur’s funeral. Then it had been springtime. Cool but nice, not too hot you know. I had also had Arthur cremated because I didn’t want to be going up to the grave every week, although it would have given me a good reason to stay in Stripford.

  It had been a nice service with the children and a few close friends. Arthur’s workplace had held a collection and sent a wreath, which I thought was rather nice of them. We had some nice music, the vicar had called and asked me what hymns and suchlike I wanted.

  We sung the twenty third Psalm and then he played ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’ by some singer on a CD player that he had brought with him. Peter had suggested ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go Go’ but I didn’t think that would be very nice. That boy has some strange ideas at times.

  Dear Jane, looked as pretty as a picture with a big black hat, black suit and gloves. She wept until Peter told her to shut up as it was disturbing other people. I suppose he meant me but I wasn’t bothered. I knew she was always her Dad’s favourite. There were cards from people whom we hadn’t heard of for years, indeed I had thought many of them were dead themselves. It just goes to show. Now I keep him in a blue vase that I retain locked up in a cupboard. I find it comforting just knowing that he is always with me. Don’t know who will keep Mr Harness’s remains. Dr Woloff said that I could probably have them if I wanted but I told him that I could think of nothing that I would like less. Besides what would Arthur think. It’s sad to think that you can die and nobody cares. I just worry about what will happen to me when I go. I certainly do not want to be a burden on my children. I shall have to check that out. Perhaps the council could collect me in a wheelie bin or something. Jane will know.

  Janice just doesn’t seem to realise how close I am to her at times. Sometimes even I don’t believe in me. Yes my funeral wasn’t a bad one as those things go, if you have to have one. I wouldn’t have minded Peters choice of music, after all a funeral should be a good laugh. Jane upset me a bit, I didn’t realise that she had cared all that much. All these Christians don’t seem to be in a hurry to get to heaven do they? I do wish that she would get rid of my ashes though. It can’t be healthy having them in the cupboard. I wouldn’t mind being scattered into the sea. Don’t fancy a park where dogs can do things on you all the time, no free as a bird that’s my ideal.

  Now there is an empty flat opposite me. I just hope it stays empty for a long while but I doubt that it will.

  I finally summoned up enough courage to ask the Citizens Advice Bureau for help again. Brian wasn’t available but another man, Meridrew told me that I should have got a winter payment for £200 towards my fuel bills. Well I never have so he phoned somebody and arranged it. It turns out that I have it backdated as well for the years I have missed. That has sorted out that problem, they really are nice and helpful those people. I asked him about funeral arrangements while I was there and he told me that he thought there was a government grant for that sort of thing. Anyway he said that there was no question of me being left out in a wheelie bin for collection as it was against the Health and Safety rules. And no they couldn’t force Jane or Peter to pay for it so that’s a relief.

  The landlord has issued a monthly newsletter, the first issue January was pushed through my letterbox earlier this morning. It had articles showing what they are doing to the properties they own and comments from some of the residents. He has called it ‘The Newsletter’ but has offered a Mark’s and Spencer Voucher for £10 to anybody that comes up with a better name for it. I could think of a few but I don’t think they would like them. There is also a list of the Housing Officers and other dogs-bodies he has working for him with their telephone numbers in case you need to contact them, this is to replace the loss of our Warden I suppose. He also wants us to set up a Tenants Management Group. A bunch of busybodies to interfere in the everyday running of the place, I think I might volunteer.

  This place is really getting me down, people dying all the time.

  Would you believe it poor Mr Harness has barely gone to his grave and they have got a new person in already.

  I called to make myself known and to make sure she knew her place in the pecking order of things as I have been here nearly a year I think I am entitled to a bit of respect and deference. I rang the bell and I heard some shuffling and coughing before the rattle of the chain and the door opened.

  “Hello I’m Janice Bond, I live opposite. Just thought I would drop round and make sure you are settling in all right. It’s so nice to have a lady living opposite, I always felt nervous with a man living there.”

  “Hi love, I’m Victoria Jenkins but my friends just call me Queenie, after Queen Victoria you know, you can call me Mrs Jenkins” she said. I knew I wouldn’t like her from the first time I saw her. Big woman she had a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp, cigarette dangling from her fingers. I stepped back as she burst into a fit of coughing

  “ Very nice of you to call. Yes I am settling in but why shouldn’t I this is my town I was born and bred here. I know who you are Dave told me about you.”

  You know Mr Tontine then?”

  “Yes he and I go way back. We are childhood friends you see,” she said puffing out another cloud of smoke.

  She’s ano
ther smoker. What is it about that flat always getting smokers in? I told her that the last tenant had died of lung trouble due to his heavy smoking but did she take any notice? Not a bit just laughed and lit another from the end of the one she already had alight.

  “Are you a diabetic? Only the last two tenants were?”

  “No! Not that it is any of your business.”

  “Well don’t forget it’s illegal to smoke on the landing’s now,” I reminded her.

  I had hoped that we could get to be friends but no, how could I be friends with such a despicable person. She is certainly no lady. She is so full of herself. She thinks she knows everything. Apparently she lived in another housing unit owned by our landlord and had asked to be moved here when a vacancy became available. Seems to think the landlord is a special friend of hers. Dave Tontine tipped her off about the empty flat.

  Southerner’s are just not like us from the Midlands, in and out of one another’s houses we are, talking over the back fences, going round for a cup of tea and a chat.

  Nothing spiteful just gossip about the kids and grandchildren.

  We had a couple who lived near us who came from London or somewhere and nobody could stand them, talked funny too, ‘I’m going to ave a barth, We do that darn sarf’. Try as you might they were just too stuck up. Never invited anyone in. Pretended to be out by not answering the door when you called. We all knew they were in because nobody had seen them go out. They were never apart, lived in each other’s pockets. It was as if he was afraid that she might get used to being without him if he let her out on her own. Darby and Joan we called them because they were like shadows always together.

  The kids used to keep an eye out for them and could tell you if they were in or out. Sometimes the children got out of hand like when one of them broke a window with a stone but they deserved it. Stuck up pair.

  Our Kristin went round and asked them to sponsor her for a school swim and he said “No.” Just like that, you wouldn’t believe it would you, not a word of explanation, just “No.”I told Kristin that I would sponsor her but she never asked me for any money, I did wonder mind you as Kristin couldn’t swim, but they weren’t to know that. They even built a fence round their garden to stop people taking a shortcut across their lawn.

  The children soon put an end to that by tearing it down. It finished up with them calling the police but we could have told them that wouldn’t do them any good.

  I said to my friend “If it’s so good where they come from then why did they leave? Just made people hate them more. Anyway they did leave in the end and went back to where they came from. Wherever that was. Didn’t we cheer, we gave them a right good send off.

  Couldn’t understand that myself. I always got on with them. Then I suppose I am a bit more sophisticated and man of the world like than most people. Bit disappointed in Janice but we are what we are I suppose.

  I just don’t like it here and now that Mrs Jenkins has come I like it even less, she really is a horrible woman. I think she is organising people to be horrid to me.

  Julia ignored me when I tried to get her attention the other day. I think she knows that I am getting Housing Benefit because she made a remark about me not being able to take jobs away from the locals now. I shall ask Peter and Jane whether they can find me a place nearer them.

  “Peter I am at my wits end, I have never fitted in here and you promised that if I didn’t like it I could come back and live with you.”

  “No!” Pause, “I never exactly said that Mum. Besides things are different now.”

  “I would help Laura with the housework and with looking after the children. It would give her some time for herself. Some of that space stuff she is always claiming that she needs.”

  “I have only just persuaded Laura to move back and the last thing that we need at this moment in time is you putting in your pennyworth Mother you really must try harder to get on with people. You haven’t attempted to fit in.” Then he hung up the phone.

  Can you believe it? Hung up the phone on his own mother. Well I have never been treated with such bad manners before and by my own son. I tried to call back to give him a piece of my mind but he must have left the phone off the hook because all I got was an engaged signal so I phoned Jane.

  “Jane dear, remember you promised that if I didn’t like it here you would take care of me? Well I don’t like it here.”

  “Yes mother, Peter has just been on the phone telling me.”

  “He hung up on me.”

  “No Mum he got cut off. He was in tears about having to refuse you but Laura has said that if you come up even for a weekend she is leaving again and won’t be coming back this time.”

  “And he believes her? She is just trying it on. She came back last time didn’t she? He needs to be more of a man and tell her that his Mother comes first.”

  Jane sighed, “maybe your are right Mum but he will not do that as you well know. I would put you up, I would love to but I have a friend who has just broken up with her husband. He was beating her and she had nowhere else to stay so I am full. Sorry mum any other time and I would. Perhaps you could just put your differences behind you and make an effort to fit in. Well I must leave you now as Doreen my friend has just come back from the benefit office where she has been trying to get some help.”

  Typical children, you spend all your life scrimping and scraping for them and when you get old and need some help in return they don’t want to know. I do wonder about Jane I really do. She doesn’t seem to have very many men friends. Sooner help some flibbertigibbet that she hasn’t known for more than five minutes. They have no respect for family that’s the problem with children nowadays. Jane is building up trouble for herself you mark my words.

  As for that Laura, I always said she wasn’t good enough for him but would he listen. She forced him into getting married so quick. Arthur kept telling me to accept her for the sake of peace and quiet but what did he know. Mrs Thatcher would understand, look how she cared for her children. In tears when that Mark went missing in the desert. Had the army out searching for him. That’s a true mothers love for you, but do they reciprocate, no they just leave you to get on with it.

  I just wish god would take me. I said as much to the vicar yesterday and I thought he would burst a blood vessel.

  “You must never say that Mrs Bond,” he exclaimed. “I am always here for you to talk to. Come back to the vicarage and we can have a nice cup of tea and a chat.”

  I went back and he shushed his wife out of the room and made a cup of tea for us both. Earl Grey, I saw him wince when I asked him to put milk and sugar into it.

  “Now Mrs Bond what seems to be the problem?”

  “I get so depressed I don’t know how I can carry on.”

  “You haven’t been thinking of taking your life have you. As you must be aware it is a mortal sin to take one’s own life.”

  “No of course not, nothing like that. I just get the occasional bout of depression. I don’t seem to be able to make friends easily.”

  “You haven’t lived in our parish for long have you. I should have done more to make you welcome. It’s just that the pressures of the parish do not leave me with much spare time. Will it help if you came to our bible class meetings? My wife runs them. They meet every Tuesday and many of my parishioners find it very helpful. I understand that they have tea and biscuits and talk about how the bible has changed their lives. You will be very welcome. I will tell my wife to expect you. Have you spoken to your doctor? Perhaps I could have a word with him? Mmm.”

  He beamed at me with his flashing white teeth and I knew that I was expected to say yes just to ease his conscience.

  “Thank you vicar I appreciate your kind words.“

  “Well don’t forget I am always here for you.”

  There is no way that I am going to bible classes or allow him to talk to my doctor. So that’s the end of the Church of St Luke's, I am sure I can find another church where they will not interfer
e in my life.

  I wonder are vicars allowed to talk to each other about their parishioners. Probably not, they can’t afford to with all the competition between them for bums on seats. Should have kept my mouth shut but it was just a moment of weakness. I won’t be going there again. I don’t need their charity. They will never leave me alone.

  Is it any wonder I am depressed? The vicar is an interfering busybody, I have lost my job, my children have abandoned me, as did my Arthur, and I live among a dreary lot of pensioners who are one step away from the knackers yard.

  As Scarlett O Hara said, ‘Tomorrow is another day’ what a silly thing to say, of course it’s another day, otherwise it would be today.

  I check my pulse, it is eighty five, and that is not my age, so I must still be alive. Although who can say for how much longer. The way I’m feeling I could die tomorrow and nobody would care.

  To top it all that Pamela has got a new lease of life since coming out of hospital. I can tell you if going in hospital makes you that lively then we should all get a few weeks in on the National Health. She has started up a weekly tarot session and has got all the daft old fools entranced. She holds it in the Community room. Smythe would never have allowed it, but since he absconded anarchy rules. She will have them dressed in white robes and dancing in circle by the light of the full moon if she has her way, you mark my words.