One Step at a Time

by Beryl Matthews

  ‘But we wouldn’t!’

  ‘No, but she doesn’t know that.’

  Ben picked up a book from the table, flicked through it and tossed it back. ‘I wonder why she can’t read? She’s a bright girl.’

  ‘I can’t answer that, but while I was teaching I did come across a boy who had a problem reading. Like Amy, he wasn’t lacking in intelligence.’ Ted found a bottle of whisky in the cupboard and a couple of glasses. ‘Let’s have a drink and decide what to do. Amy needs help, but we’re going to have to be very careful because she’s guarding her secret well.’

  ‘What do you suggest?’ Ben was on his feet again. ‘We can’t just let her wander around day after day in the cold. And I believe that’s what she’s doing.’

  ‘She’s probably trying to find work, Ben. We can’t interfere, and until she tells us herself, there isn’t much we can do.’

  Ben slumped back in his chair. ‘Mrs Dalton and Howard must be told.’

  ‘No!’ Ted’s expression was grim. ‘By all means tell Howard, but we must never let her know we have found out. Amy must go to Mrs Dalton herself.’

  ‘But will she?’

  ‘I believe she will, and let’s hope it’s soon.’ Ted held up the bottle. ‘I could do with a stiff drink. Do you want one?’

  Ben held out one of the glasses. ‘Why not?’

  After sitting in the dingy café in Fulham for an hour, Amy had made up her mind. She couldn’t go on like this. She was cold, hungry and very miserable. It was time to go to her ‘family’, confess all, and ask for their help. Her stomach heaved when she remembered the names she had been called at school. They echoed in her head: Barmy, stupid Amy, she can’t read! It would be impossible to bear it if Ben, Howard, Ted and Mrs Dalton thought that about her. But if they did she would have to face it even if it tore her apart. Which she knew it would, for she loved each one of them and cared so much what they thought of her. They were going to be so angry with her.

  She left the café and found the bus stop she needed, eager now to get the unpleasant task over with. Many things in her life had been hard to face, but she’d managed to get through them. This was just one more.

  It was four o’clock when she reached home. Gritting her teeth she marched towards Mrs Dalton’s sitting room. She had been so kind; she must be told first. Amy choked back a sob, fighting for control. Mrs Dalton was going to be so disappointed to learn she had lost her job weeks ago.

  The house was quiet. Grasping every bit of courage she could muster, she tapped on the door.

  ‘Come in.’

  Turning the handle slowly she stepped inside.

  ‘Amy.’ Mrs Dalton put down the book she had been reading. ‘You’re early, dear.’

  ‘I need to talk to you, please.’ Her voice wavered.

  ‘Come and sit down. You look upset. Tell me what’s happened.’

  Amy perched on the edge of an armchair and, taking a deep breath, told her about losing her job after only a week. ‘I should have told you before but I was hoping to find another job quickly. Only I haven’t been able to. I’m so sorry…’

  ‘You haven’t told me why they sacked you.’ Mrs Dalton’s voice was gentle.

  Amy looked at her with tortured eyes, and she still hedged. ‘They said I was too slow.’

  ‘That’s hard to believe. Why were you slow?’

  The truth couldn’t be avoided any longer, and Amy gazed down at her clasped hands. ‘I can’t read or write properly.’

  ‘I know that, my dear, but I’ve been waiting for you to tell me.’

  ‘You know?’ Amy’s head came up sharply.

  ‘Of course. When I agreed to take over your care I was told everything about you.’ She reached across and took hold of Amy’s hands. ‘You are a very brave girl and I’m proud of you.’

  ‘Proud?’ Amy stared in disbelief. ‘Do the others know?’

  ‘I haven’t told anyone, but’ – she gave Amy’s hands an encouraging squeeze – ‘I think it’s time you told them as well.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ She shuddered. ‘They’ll think I’m stupid. I’m not, Mrs Dalton. I’m not! I try very hard and practise almost every evening. I’m getting better; I can write some, and sign my name. Only I got flustered at the shop and when I do that everything gets muddled.’

  ‘No one in this house is going to think badly of you, Amy.’ Mrs Dalton stood up. ‘Let’s go to my kitchen, have tea, and then when the boys and Ted come home you can tell them. Don’t worry, my dear. All any of us want to do is help you through this difficult time.’

  Amy stood up carefully, not sure her legs would support her. Mrs Dalton had known all along and didn’t think she was stupid. The relief was enormous and she saw how silly she had been to hide the fact that she had lost her job. She would have told her mother, and Mrs Dalton had taken on that role. She wouldn’t hesitate to go to her in the future.

  There were lovely fat scones, jam and a sponge cake, but until she had told the others, Amy didn’t think her insides would hold anything as substantial as this.

  ‘Just tea, please.’

  ‘I understand.’ Mrs Dalton smiled and poured them both a cup of tea. ‘We can eat these later.’

  They talked quietly and Mrs Dalton listened as Amy told her about her search for work, her difficulties at school and how she longed to be able to read properly. For the first time since her father’s trial, Amy unburdened herself, and – also for the first time – she felt secure.

  ‘Right, I expect they’re all home now, so let’s go and tell them, shall we?’

  Amy gulped hard, nodded, and followed Mrs Dalton along the passage to the kitchen she shared with Ted, and the boys haunted for food. She wasn’t looking forward to this one little bit, but it had to be done.

  When they walked in, Ben, Howard and Ted were all there, cups of tea in front of them and looking serious.

  ‘Ah, good, you’re all here.’ Mrs Dalton put her arm around Amy’s shoulder. ‘We have something to tell you, haven’t we, dear?’

  ‘Umm, yes.’ She gazed down at her feet until Mrs Dalton squeezed her shoulder, making her lift her head and meet the eyes of the three men watching her. The words came out in a rush. ‘I lost my job weeks ago because I can’t read properly.’

  Why were they smiling? Were they going to laugh at her? Oh no! She turned to run from the room but had only taken a couple of steps before she was swept off her feet by Ben and swung round.

  ‘You were too good for that job.’

  Howard rubbed his hands together. ‘Good, I need lots more pots painted, and now you’ll have the time. They’ve sold all the others.’ He held out a pound note. ‘That’s your share.’

  ‘But, but… I can’t take your money.’

  ‘Yes you can, Amy. I’ll give you a quarter of everything we sell that you’ve painted. The cats are causing a lot of interest.’

  Her fingers closed over the pound note just as Ted spoke. ‘And you can help me in the shop on Saturdays.’

  Glancing in disbelief from one smiling face to the next, she struggled for words. Didn’t they understand? ‘But I can’t read.’

  ‘You don’t need to when you paint my pots, or sit for Ben, and all you’ve got to do is smile at Ted’s customers.’

  ‘And take their money,’ Ted pointed out.

  ‘Well I never!’

  Howard roared. ‘I love the way you say that.’

  ‘I was so afraid to tell you in case you thought I was daft in the head.’ Amy was bubbling with relief. ‘I could hug you all for being so nice to me.’

  ‘What are you waiting for then?’ Ben held his arms wide.

  When she ran into them he swung her round, whispering in her ear, ‘Don’t worry, Amy, everything’s going to be all right.’

  When everyone in the room had received her thanks, Amy was quite flustered. The response was the opposite to what she had expected, but how wonderful it was, and she wanted to do something for them.

  She rushed to look
in the larder and saw that Mrs Dalton had put another bowl of eggs in there for them. ‘I’ll make you all scrambled eggs on toast, shall I?’

  Every seat around the table was immediately filled, and even Mrs Dalton joined them. Amy was bursting with happiness as she set to work. They didn’t mind! They didn’t think she was stupid.

  ‘I’ve got some fresh-baked scones and jam we can have after.’

  ‘I love your scones, Mrs Dalton.’ Ben winked at Amy. ‘They’re almost as good as Amy’s scrambled eggs.’

  While they were eating she was asked about her difficulty with words, and for the first time in her life she talked freely about it.

  Ted was nodding as he listened, then pushed a piece of paper and a pen in front of her. ‘Would you write something for me, Amy? Don’t worry about spelling, just a few sentences about Oscar, your room or how you like living here. Anything that comes into your head.’

  She chewed her lip in concentration as she wrote slowly, crossing out a word every so often.

  Looking very doubtful she pushed it across to Ted and watched anxiously as he read it.

  ‘This is very interesting. I’ve seen something like this before. I had a boy in my class who wrote in a similar way. He confused the B and D as well, often putting them in the wrong order, just like Amy.’

  Was there someone else like her? Amy leant towards Ted to see what he was pointing out to the others, her embarrassment disappearing fast as she saw there was only interest on their faces: no ridicule.

  ‘She’s spelt some words phonetically,’ Howard said.

  ‘Yes.’ Ted nodded. ‘Clever, isn’t it?’

  Clever? Amy was now kneeling on the chair. What were they talking about? She couldn’t contain herself any longer and the words tumbled out. ‘But it isn’t right, is it? And who’s this other person who wrote like me? I thought I was the only one. What was he like?’

  ‘He was a ten-year-old boy in my class and I noticed he was reluctant to hand in his homework. When he finally did, I saw something like this. The spelling was bad, but the work was brilliant. He was very intelligent.’

  ‘What happened to him?’ Amy couldn’t wait to hear about this.

  ‘He became a lawyer, and a very successful one.’

  ‘A lawyer?’ She almost fell off her chair. ‘But how could he do that?’

  ‘With a lot of hard work and determination. As he got older his reading and writing skills improved, and I worked with him until he was old enough to go to university.’

  Amy’s mouth dropped open as she stared at Ted in amazement. ‘Could… could you help me?’

  ‘I’d like to see what we could do.’ He smiled with understanding in his gentle eyes.

  ‘I’m going to read!’ Her chair wobbled alarmingly as she wriggled with joy. ‘I want to read lots of books; write long, long letters…’

  ‘Whoa.’ Ted caught her chair to steady it. ‘Don’t get too excited. I’m sure we can improve your ability, but you should have had help a long time ago.’

  Her spirits plummeted. ‘My gran helped me, and I try hard all the time. I practise every night.’

  ‘Well, that must be why you’ve made as much progress as you have, but it’s going to be hard for you.’

  ‘Do you mean it’s too late for me to learn?’

  ‘Don’t look so disappointed, Amy.’ Ted patted her hand. ‘I’ll set you some exercises, and we’ll work together for about an hour each day. You will be able to improve, but we must face the fact that you might never be able to read and write fluently.’

  Her generous mouth thinned. ‘What’s wrong with me, then?’

  ‘I don’t know, my dear; I wish I did. One thing I’m sure about though is that it has nothing to do with your intelligence. Apart from that one problem you are a normal, bright girl.’

  That piece of news helped and she managed a smile. ‘If I can learn a bit, I don’t mind. I’ll never stop trying.’

  ‘Good for you.’ Mrs Dalton, who had been listening intently, spoke for the first time. ‘The moment I met you I knew you had courage. The problems and tragedies you had would have knocked out anyone else, but you haven’t let them grind you down. I’m proud of you, dear.’

  ‘We all are.’ Ben leant across the table and ruffled her unruly hair playfully. ‘When I saw you by the river I just knew you were special. There was something about you I couldn’t forget.’

  ‘I’m ever so glad you didn’t.’ Amy sighed. ‘I wouldn’t have found such a nice home with all of you.’

  ‘And we wouldn’t have found such a talented sister.’ Howard was serious, then he chuckled. ‘I’ve got loads of pots for you to paint.’

  There were howls of protest from the others. ‘You and your pots!’

  ‘And I think it’s time we had those scones, don’t you?’ Mrs Dalton stood up as everyone round the table nodded in eager anticipation.

  16

  The next few days flew by. Howard was now making small dogs as well as cats and, with the decorated vases, they were selling well in the run-up to Christmas. Amy had shelved any thoughts of getting another job in order to help Ben and Howard. She was painting and delivering new stock to the couple of shops taking Howard’s work, and it was giving her enormous pleasure to see him earning some money at last. Ben’s paintings at the Fulham gallery were also selling quite well. Both boys were earning a good reputation for their excellent work. They insisted on paying her for the painting and running around she did on their behalf, and she was earning almost as much as the shoe shop had paid her. Added to this was the payment for the Saturday working for Ted. She loved watching the customers as they browsed the shelves for something special. They would often sit on one of the chairs Ted provided for his customers, absorbed in the book in their hands. How her heart ached to be able to do that. With Ted’s help and encouragement she hoped she would improve.

  Ted had just found her another book, for an older age group this time, and as it was quiet in the shop for a moment, Amy was leaning on the counter reading it. As she struggled the usual frustration raced through her.

  ‘Don’t do that, Amy.’ Ted had come up behind her and spoke firmly.

  She glanced round at him. ‘Do what?’

  ‘Look at your hands.’

  They were in tight fists. She uncurled them, laying them flat on the counter, bowing her head and muttering under her breath.

  ‘Take deep breaths,’ he ordered more gently this time. ‘I know it’s hard, Amy, and I know how much you want to be able to read like the rest of us, but you must try to control your frustration. You are really doing well.’

  Her sigh was deep. ‘Am I ever going to be able to pick up a book and read it easily?’

  ‘I can’t answer that question because I don’t know what’s stopping you. I have asked friends in the teaching profession, and although some of them have come across a child with similar difficulties, no one knows what causes it.’ Ted closed the book in front of her. ‘One day they will discover what the condition is, and something will be done about it.’

  ‘It will be too late for me though, won’t it?’

  He took hold of her hands as they began to clench into fists again. ‘I know you’re going to think this is a daft thing to say, but try not to let it mean so much to you. I believe it’s holding you back. If you could be pleased with every step forward you make, even if very small, I think that would make you relax and give you more freedom.’

  ‘I’ll try.’ She smiled then, the tension easing away as it always did when he talked to her like this. He had gone to a lot of trouble to convince her that she wasn’t daft in the head and she knew he was right. Yet the taunts of her school days were still a vivid memory. What a miserable time that had been.

  But it was behind her now. She was with people who accepted her for what she was and never belittled her, in fact they continually praised her for the things she could do well, especially her cooking!

  ‘That’s better.’ Ted gave a slow smile an
d let go of her hands. ‘You have such expressive eyes and I saw the tension leave you. What are you amused about?’

  ‘I was just thinking how much Ben and Howard like my cooking.’

  He tipped his head back and laughed out loud. ‘Those two are always hungry. They spend more time in our kitchen than their own.’

  ‘I know, and I swear they’re getting bigger every day. Ben is a giant, and Howard isn’t far behind him.’

  ‘That’s because they’re eating regular meals now.’ He leant on the counter beside her. ‘Do you know, Amy, I believe they are going to make their mark in life; they are so talented. One day Ben will be able to paint what he likes without worrying about earning money, and Howard will not have to produce so many vases in order to eat. He is a sculptor of exceptional ability.’

  Amy nodded, agreeing with every word. How she adored these wonderful artists.

  ‘They’re only twenty and have got a good future ahead of them.’ Ted lifted her chin, making her look directly at him. ‘And so have you. Don’t you ever forget that.’

  ‘I’ll try not to.’

  That was the end of their talk because the shop became busy again, and the rest of the day was hectic. Amy was once again happy, her frustration gone as she talked and joked with the customers. Many of them knew Ted personally and often asked him to find a certain kind of book for them, which he was always happy to do. She didn’t know what the future held for her, but if Ted said it was good, then she’d believe him. The more she got to know him, the more her respect for him grew. If it weren’t for her trouble with words her happiness would be complete. She couldn’t ask for more than she already had.

  Mrs Dalton was waiting for her when she arrived home with Ted that evening.

  ‘Ah, there you are, my dear. It’s not long till Christmas and I wondered if you’d like to come shopping with me next Saturday. That’s if Ted will let you have the day off?’

  Ben strode along the passage, smiling broadly. ‘Don’t forget I want to do another picture of you, and Howard’s lined up dozens of pieces to be painted.’

  ‘You never want to paint me again, surely?’ Amy gasped. ‘Why don’t you find a pretty girl?’