The Woman Who Kept Everything

by Jane Gilley

  ‘Can’t we – look! Can’t we just have this one last wonderful day to remember for the rest of our lives? We’re not gonna get another chance like this to create a new mem’ry now we’re nearly in our eighties, are we, Glor?’

  Gloria shrugged, thinking he was probably right. Life was over when you hit a certain age, she knew that much.

  ‘And, you’re right, me scooter probably won’t last much longer but I truly believe it will get us to the beach … Just for that one last time, eh, Glor?’

  Tilsbury noticed that tears were starting to form in Gloria’s eyes.

  ‘Oh Tils!’ Gloria said, dabbing at her eyes with a serviette. ‘You’ve got me thinkin’ about things again, ducks. And, yes, we did have some crackin’ times, didn’t we? All of us together: you, me, Arthur and Jocelyn once upon. They were good times. You’re right. But we’re a couple of old fogies now. I ain’t got the energy to be tearin’ around all over the place. Look we’d best be off, now, Tils. I’ve truly had a lovely time, today, though. And it’ll still be a wonderful mem’ry to look back on.’

  Gloria slowly rose from her seat and struggled into her coat again with Tilsbury’s help.

  He looked so downbeat Gloria couldn’t meet his gaze. But she was reliving the past, now he’d mentioned it. She was thinking about how their lives were, indeed, fluttering towards the bottom of the hill they’d once climbed so eagerly in their youth. She let out a sigh as they ambled down the steps of the café, arm in arm to steady themselves and across the freshly cut lawn to where Tilsbury had parked the scooter.

  Gloria studied the etched, weather-beaten lines across Tilsbury’s sunburnt face. She knew her seventy-nine-year-old face had its own share of lines both from worry, when Clegg was a boy getting into scrapes, and those joyous times when Clegg and Val had angelic babies of their own. She’d known some very happy as well as some very sad times.

  But Tilsbury was right.

  There really wasn’t much else to look forward to, now, at their time of life. Gloria also realised that Clegg wouldn’t want her to live with them for the rest of her life, either, whatever her hopes might once have been for that. And from what she’d learned recently, she was certain he’d make darned sure that an old people’s home, somewhere, would soon start calling her name …

  So she came to her second big decision of the day.

  ‘Oh stuff it! Crumblies be gone! C’mon then, Tils. Start the motor. Let’s see where this old heap’ll take us one last time …’

  Chapter 11

  ‘Wheeeeeeeee –’ Gloria shrieked as the little scooter sped along at an eye-watering forty miles per hour towards the azure sea, the wind batting her new hairstyle, that warm July morning. She’d misplaced Jocelyn’s helmet at the gas station, when Tilsbury had filled up for the rest of their journey, so her eyes were, indeed, watering with all the wind and grit. But they’d grabbed some sandwiches, a couple of cans of fizzy pop and two cheap beach towels and she’d paid for the lot with the credit card – the one Cleggy had got for her, which she’d never actually used before.

  ‘And this’s on you, Miserable Son! Well, you give it to me for essentials and emergencies, so I vow that I will spend it on all the essentials we need – things for the beach – and any emergencies that might befall us, like making sure this crappy moped thingy gets us from A to Z. In other words, my dear Tils, we’re gonna enjoy today!’

  In fact, Gloria had happily decided to shut down her worries for today. Trepidation of all things unknown was no longer her concern and nor was getting back to Cleggy and Val before they got home. Whatever the rest of the day brought, so be it. There was no way Gloria was going to be dictated to by her son. She was the mother, after all, and so she’d do as she darn well pleased.

  Oh yes! Gloria Frensham was enjoying this. She was actually having fun. Gloria Frensham couldn’t remember the last time she’d had any fun. When you hit that mysterious age that some youngsters deem ‘old’ – and which could be any age over thirty (or even less) – you weren’t supposed to be having fun, were you? You were supposed to be sitting down in a comfortable armchair, somewhere, sipping tea, watching TV reruns, and being perfectly respectable, calm and fuddy.

  That, she could now see, was what Clegg and Val had been trying to make her do – conform to that ideal. ‘Keeps ’em quiet!’ she’d actually heard a youngster in Green’s Nursing Home say.

  So today – and just for today – Gloria Frensham was reverting to her younger self, Miss Gloria Howe, attracting the likes of Tilsbury and his buddies, when he’d returned to Norwich with his family after years away in India.

  Gloria and Jocelyn had hung round Ron’s Transport Café, on the outskirts of town. Lorry drivers used to come in to fill up with fuel and have a bite to eat. It was also where the local motorbike riders used to stop off for the same reason, which, in turn, attracted young and reckless lasses from miles around. It was quite a hub and quickly became known as Babe Magnet Café. Gloria and Jocelyn were always there, even got Saturday waitressing jobs there for a while, after they left school and before they became secretaries. Those were the days.

  After about an hour’s drive and a detour due to roadworks, Tilsbury finally pulled into a small car park, leading down to a beach. There were only two other cars there, as well as an ice-cream van with a youngster inside, tapping away on his phone.

  ‘Where the ’eck are we, Tils?’ said Gloria, easing herself off the scooter and taking her coat off.

  ‘Dunno, my love, that detour threw me a bit. But I can see the sea.’

  Gloria stood, allowing the heat of the sun to kiss her skin. Ah, it felt wonderful. She closed her eyes and allowed the warmth to wash over her until Tilsbury got the stand down on the scooter. Then they linked arms and took their carrier bag of goodies and tentatively made their way down to the beach. It was quite a trek but they took it slowly. Gloria laid the beach towels on the soft beige and shingle sand when they finally arrived, a little out of breath.

  ‘Plonk yer bum on that, Tils!’

  But Tilsbury shook his head. ‘Nah. I’m off for a spot of paddlin’, Glor!’ he said and promptly pulled off all his clothes.

  ‘Good grief, Tils! Have you lost yer mind?’ she gasped in awe, looking around in case anyone had seen what was going on. There were a few holidaymakers further down the long stretch of beach but no one nearby, thankfully.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her old friend strip-Jack naked.

  ‘Well why not, Glor?’ he retorted, as he picked his way down to the edge of the sea.

  ‘Oi but it’s bloody freezin’, Glor!’ he yelled back.

  ‘You havin’ a swim, then?’ Gloria shouted to him. ‘When was the last time you swam, Tils?’

  ‘Who cares, my love. You comin’ in for a paddle? You can’t come all this way and not come in for a paddle!’

  Gloria shook her head fiercely and said, more to herself than Tilsbury, ‘No way! You’re mad!’

  But she could see that all their talk of days gone by meant Tilsbury was lost to the frivolity of his youth.

  What on earth were they doing?

  Gloria Frensham also realised she was not herself. She was a shade of the person she’d been a few hours ago. And now that new woman was stumbling down to the edge of the sea, discarding her shoes, stockings and dress, as she picked her way over the shingle in her full-length underskirt and waded into the freezing water beside her old friend. And he – in turn – recognised Gloria Howe: a sexy little beastie from way back in the day!

  She introduced her aged body bit by bit, step by step to the chilly sea and squealed when the water reached her middle. Pah! But she’d known far worse in her life. So, gritting her teeth, she dropped straight into the cold water and then swam along near the beach a few strokes, her teeth chattering.

  What would Clegg think if he could see them both now?

  Tilsbury waded towards her and then allowed himself to submerge, jumped up again – shivering – then
he too swam along beside her for a while.

  ‘Can’t feel my ruddy fingers, Tils. I’ll have to get out, now.’

  ‘Yeah. I’m freezin’ me ruddy balls off too!’ he yelled.

  And they laughed like they’d not laughed in a long while, both staggering to help each other out of the freezing sea and back to where they’d left their clothes, strewn all over the beach.

  * * *

  Between them they helped each other dry off. Tilsbury held the towel around Gloria’s body whilst she struggled back into her polka dot dress.

  ‘Oh yuk. And it’s all itchy and horrible. We need comfort at our age, don’t we, Tils?’

  ‘It’s the salt water, love. Here, let me rub it a bit more with my towel. It’s drier than yours.’

  ‘We must be mad, Tils. What the ’eck would everyone think of us if they saw us now?’

  ‘Bloody stuff ’em, Glor. Who gives one! This is our adventure, anyways.’

  The young man serving at the ice-cream van gave them a brisk smile as they ambled up to his window with wet hair, purple lips and panting from the walk back up from the beach.

  ‘I see you’ve been enjoyin’ yerselves out there! Aren’t you cold?’

  Tilsbury nodded. ‘Course we’re cold, son. We’re bloody pensioners. Bloody freezin’ out there. But we’ve made it back to the land of the livin’ and now we’re wantin’ a hot cuppa or three. Do you do tea?’

  Tilsbury and Gloria sat on a nearby bench, gratefully sipping their hot tea and eating their sandwiches as they watched a gang of young people arrive, whooping and hollering and running off down the beach. They could hear them larking around and squealing and probably splashing each other like they used to do when they were kids.

  ‘Well, the Maldives it ain’t, Glor, but have you enjoyed today?’

  Gloria was a changed woman. Sure, she was still a bit shivery, damp and itchy and her nice new hairstyle was wet. She’d chucked her underskirt and stockings away because there was no way of drying them, and her coat was a bit creased from it being crumpled on the sand. But she was ecstatically happy. Her whole body felt alive and buzzy. She felt younger and more vibrant than she had in years.

  ‘Oh yes, ducks,’ she said, gathering up the empty sandwich packets and wondering what to do with them. ‘I’ve had an amazing time today and I don’t want to go home!’

  She could see there was a bin next to the ice-cream van, so that’s where she knew the rubbish needed to go. But putting rubbish in an actual bin was an unfamiliar experience for Gloria.

  She hesitated and glanced at Tilsbury. As she looked at him, she felt as if she was alive with vitality.

  He nodded. ‘I believe you, my love. And we don’t have to go home yet, if you don’t want to. But I don’t know where we can go to next. Do you? Or should we just take our time getting back?’

  Gloria’s shoulders fell and her demeanour changed.

  She looked up as one of the youngsters came running back up, out of breath, and bought six cans of Coke and some chocolates for his friends. Gloria left the bench and slowly walked towards the bin. She couldn’t take the rubbish with her on the scooter so it would have to go in the bin. But she hesitated again.

  ‘Crazy isn’t it, Tils. We’re a couple of old farts, shivering on a beach, when we could be tucked up in a nice old people’s home, somewhere, eatin’ jelly and ice cream.’

  ‘True. But where would you rather be?’

  Gloria shrugged. ‘Yes well, I’ve had an absolute ball, ducks. But I’m getting cold now so I suppose we ought to get back to reality.’

  ‘Reality, Glor? Who’s to say that this ain’t reality? We’re here on a day out. That’s our reality for the moment. We’re not doin’ anything wrong. We’re just two friends having a lovely day out. And it’s not a dream. This is real.’

  ‘Uh-huh. But people will start worryin’ about us and then there’ll be trouble. And I bet Cleggy will go mad when he knows I’ve come away with you.’

  ‘You didn’t tell him we were going out for the day, did you?’

  ‘Of course not but I left a note saying I was going out with a friend and they know I don’t have any friends to speak of. They’ll work it out, Tils. I just got you and Jocelyn and my only other friend, Mabel, who lives with her family near Skegness –’

  Gloria stopped, looked down at her sandy feet and then back up at Tilsbury. She’d not seen hide nor hair of Mabel since she’d upped sticks with Gerard and her kids and left for a better life in the Lincolnshire Fens, after he’d lost his job in Norwich in the Eighties. Oh sure, she’d had plenty of postcards and letters raving about the ‘beach life’ and entertainment along the proms in the summer and, yes, a few photos of the kids growing up. But it wasn’t the same, communicating by post or the occasional phone call, was it? Not really. And not when they used to be so close.

  A huge grin filled Gloria’s cheeks, as she suddenly lifted the top of the bin and pushed the sandwich packets in.

  ‘Oh stuff it! I want to go and see my friend Mabel in Skeggy, Tils. She’s been sending me postcards for years but I’ve never been to Skeggy. She says the air there is fresh and bracing!’

  Chapter 12

  ‘Holy shit!’

  As Tilsbury looked down at their squashed scooter, he knew Gloria’s dreams were over. Not that he’d had any intention of attempting to take her to Skegness on the back of that ropey thing. It might’ve got them home. It would never have made it down major roads, into another county. But they wouldn’t be leaving the beach the same way they’d arrived, that was for sure. And it’d be a helluva walk back to Norwich.

  ‘Oh, Glor, I’m so sorry. Well, that’s it, old girl. Game, set and match, as they say.’

  He bent down to try and twist the handlebars back to their usual position. They were set at a funny angle. The front wheel was twisted too. Possibly it had fallen over and then a car backed over it when they were swimming. Or was it those pesky youngsters?

  Tilsbury said he’d sort things out and moved off to talk to the boy in the ice-cream van. There was nothing to indicate that a bus stopped there regularly. So they’d need to get a lift. Or hitch. But Gloria wasn’t sure anyone would stop for an elderly couple.

  Mikey, the youngster serving ice creams to a family who’d just arrived, confirmed there were no buses but said he could give them a lift to Sheringham, where he lived, after he finished up. It wasn’t busy enough for him to stay much longer, he told them.

  ‘Might be a bit of a squash in this old rig amongst the fridges. Ha, ha. But at least it’ll get you to civilisation.’

  ‘Gee thanks, Mikey.’

  Result! And yes it was a bit of a squeeze because he had to move the boxes of cornets and chocolate flakes to accommodate them and it was an uncomfortable ride, the two of them squashed in the back, like that. But after fifteen minutes or so Mikey pulled up and dropped them off by a seafront hotel so they could use the phone or whatever.

  They waved goodbye to him and went inside the hotel.

  ‘Well I dunno about you, Tils, but I’m bushed. I’ve not had this much fun or exercise in years! So I think I’m going to stay here the night, if I can. I just do not want the fuss I’m gonna get from my son, later on. I do not need his nonsense today. This is my adventure. And then I can go home – if you can call it that – tomorrow.’

  ‘Wow! So despite all the panicking about Cleggy, you’re really gonna stay here the night? Now that’s what I’d call adventureful! You gonna ring them first?’

  Gloria shrugged. ‘Can’t be arsed really, to be truthful. But I need a bath and a cuppa and then I’ll think about it. What do you wanna do about things? D’you wanna stay too?’

  Tilsbury shrugged as well. This was not how he thought the day was going to turn out.

  He wasn’t averse to life throwing curve balls. It’d been doing it to him all his life. But he had nowhere he could call home, to go back to. Perhaps it was time he stopped all his dossing around and to-ing and fro-ing and found
himself permanent lifetime digs. Gloria was right. They should be thinking about where they ought to spend their twilight years. They were old folks, for God’s sake, not kids, running around like they used to. Old age had suddenly arrived. Aches and pains would soon start setting in.

  Plus Gloria’s house was about to be sold, so she’d lost her forever home now. And he’d lost another occasional bed for the night. He’d been thinking for a while that he ought to talk to social services about getting some full-time accommodation when he got back and then sort his life out once and for all.

  ‘Okay, well, yes! Do you mind if I stay too? P’raps Marvin’ll come get me tomorrow. And I’ll pay you back when I can, Glor.’

  ‘No, Tils. This is going to be my treat. Well, actually it’s going to be Cleggy’s treat because I intend to use his credit card again. More essential purchases, of course! Stuff Cleggy! I don’t like his attitude towards you. And I don’t like his attitude, these days, full stop. So this is his penance!’

  ‘Oo-er! Well, only if you’re sure, Gloria. I don’t want you gettin’ into any trouble because of this!’

  ‘I’ve no intention of gettin’ into any trouble over this either, Tils! Things feel different for me now and life’s gone a bit barmy and not in a bad way, I might add. I’m startin’ to have some wonderful adventures and all that takes a bit of gettin’ used to. But Cleggy’s making matters much worse than they need to be.’

  Tilsbury patted Gloria’s hand, and smiled. ‘Well okay, then. As long as you’re sure!’

  ‘I’m sure, Tils. Right! Well, I’m going to see if we can get booked in. And it’ll be twin beds if there’s no singles before you go gettin’ ideas, ducks. And I bags the bathroom first.’

  ‘Oh I won’t be wantin’ a bath, Glor. You know me. Can’t be bothered with all that!’

  ‘Ha! Under normal circumstances it wouldn’t worry me what you do, Tils, but you’re a bit stinky and if you’re stayin’ with me in the same room you’re certainly gonna be havin’ a bath and washin’ yer hair, even if I have to throw you in myself!’