Kitabı oku: «A Mother’s Sacrifice», sayfa 2
‘Maybe,’ Glenda answered as she realised that by now she should know what her husband was like. She should be able to please him instead of continually making him angry. ‘Now I think about it, Maude, maybe I was a bit moody last night. He was still out of order for hitting me, but I suppose I asked for it really.’
‘There you are. You know what starts him off so make sure you don’t do it again. Harry’s a good man, Glenda. You could have done a lot worse. Blimey, when I think of all the girls that used to come sniffing round my doorstep for him. He was a bit of a catch, you know. And now look at him – working hard for you and Johnnie, doing that bricklaying in all weathers, and, like you said, he’s a proper good dad. All right, so he likes a pint after work, but he bloody well deserves it after grafting all day. He doesn’t smoke, he doesn’t gamble and I know he wouldn’t go chasing after any skirt. You’ve got a good ’un there, my girl. You’ve just gotta learn not to wind him up.’
‘Thanks, Maude, I appreciate your advice, but please don’t say anything to him about this. Like you say, I don’t want to wind him up again.’
‘Mum’s the word!’ Maude answered as she pursed her lips and pretended to zip them.
As she drained the last of her tea, Glenda thought about getting home and making sure the house was spotless for when Harry finished work, with fresh sheets on the bed, dinner on the table and her looking ravishing. She couldn’t fight her husband, but she could make sure that she didn’t give him a reason to knock her about again.
Chapter 2
Billy Myers pulled up the collar of his long trenchcoat, shielding his face from the chilly wind. He had been hanging around on the high street for nearly an hour, dodging anyone who might recognise him. After all, he couldn’t risk it getting back to his foreman that he was well enough to go shopping but was too sick to work.
As he stamped his feet to relieve the numbness, he saw Glenda Jenkins standing at the crossing with her navy-blue pram loaded with bags. At last, he thought, pleased that his efforts hadn’t been in vain. He had been looking forward to this moment since he’d seen her in the Castle a week before. He quickly darted into the ironmonger’s shop and sneaked a look through the window, waiting for her to approach. Her head was lowered against the inclement weather and her shoulders hunched as she hurried over the crossing, but Billy’s heartbeat quickened as he admired her long hair whipping at her face in the wind.
Just as she was about to pass the shop, he made a dash for the door. ‘Hello, Glenda,’ he said with a smile, trying to appear casual.
‘Oh, hello, Billy.’
Billy noticed she didn’t smile back at him but supposed it was because she was obviously in a hurry.
‘You look a bit overloaded there,’ he said as he pointed at the bags on the pram. ‘Let me give you a hand. Where you off to? Washday at the baths?’
‘Er, yes, I am, though I’m going to the butcher’s first before the queue gets too long. Thanks, Billy, but I can manage.’
‘Nah, come on, I’ll take these for you.’ Before Glenda could object further, he had grabbed the two large bags and was walking along beside her. ‘It’s a cold one today,’ said Billy, furiously trying to find conversation. ‘Winter will be here before we know it.’ He had planned this moment all week since seeing Glenda in the pub, but hadn’t thought about what he would say.
Glenda didn’t answer. She just nodded as she looked ahead.
‘How’s the boy?’ Billy asked, nodding towards Johnnie, who was sleeping soundly in the warmth and shelter of his pram.
‘He’s fine, thanks, Billy.’ A few moments’ silence fell as they arrived outside the butcher’s to see that they’d made it ahead of the queue. ‘Thanks for your help,’ Glenda said, ‘I can take it from here.’
‘It’s all right. I could do with getting out of this wind for a bit anyway.’
‘There’s no need, really. I don’t wanna hold you up.’
She’s always so polite, thought Billy before answering, ‘You won’t be holding me up. I’ve got plenty of time to kill this morning so don’t worry about me. You just get what shopping you need and I’ll carry these washbags for you.’
Billy smiled as Glenda sighed but entered the butcher’s, where a gust of wind was blowing sawdust around the floor. He stood awkwardly as she handed over her ration book and ordered her small piece of meat, then held the door open for her to leave. I’ll show her I’ve got good manners too, he thought, doubting that Harry ever treated her like a proper lady. Judging by the remnants of a bruise on her cheek, it looked like he’d been knocking her about again.
As they headed up towards the public washhouse, the chilly breeze made Billy’s eyes water. He would be glad to get to the baths and retreat from the horrid weather. His nerves were getting the better of him and he was finding conversation difficult to come by.
Finally they reached the Latchmere, and once inside Glenda removed her coat to drape it over the pram before donning a floral apron. She then took a stall and began to unload her sheets. Billy sat on a long wooden bench that ran down the length of the rear wall, enjoying the warmth of the steamy hall. He pulled his flat cap lower over his face and, as Glenda bent over to take washing from the bags, he watched and admired her pert backside. What I wouldn’t do to get my hands on that, he thought, instantly feeling hot.
Johnnie stirred in his pram, letting out a small cry. Glenda abandoned her washing to see to her child. As she stood with Johnnie in her arms and her back turned, Billy carefully ambled towards her washbags, stealthily popped his hand in and quickly removed a pair of Glenda’s knickers, which he stuffed into his coat pocket. As he felt the silky material in his hand, Billy found himself aroused at the fantasy that one day he would have his hands on Glenda’s knickers while she was still wearing them.
Johnnie settled down and Glenda placed him back in his pram. ‘Shouldn’t you be at work, Billy?’
‘It’s me mum’s legs, Glenda. They’re up like balloons! She asked me to run a few errands for her so I’ve taken the morning off. Only thing is, I had to tell a bit of a porky to my gaffer. I couldn’t tell him I was looking after Mum, so can you do me a favour and not mention to Harry that you’ve seen me today? Only him and my gaffer are pretty tight and I don’t wanna get my cards.’
‘Yeah, sure. I won’t say anything. But shouldn’t you be getting back to your mum?’
‘Nah, she’s all right for a bit. She was dozing off in her chair when I left so I don’t really wanna go back now and disturb her. Tell you what, once you’ve done your washing, do you fancy a cuppa and a bun at them swanky tearooms up the Junction? My treat.’ Billy salivated at the thought of a big, sweet cake, and who better to share it with than Glenda Jenkins! He hadn’t planned on asking her out, but it had just sort of slipped out and now the idea was very appealing. And, he thought to himself, I bet Harry never takes her anywhere nice.
‘Er … no, thanks, Billy. I’ve still got to go to the greengrocer’s and then get home to sort Harry’s tea out.’
Billy was disappointed, sure that she would have accepted his generous offer. ‘Never mind,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘It was just a thought. Warm your cockles and all that. I’ll tell you what then, I’ll walk up to the shop with you and pick up the bits my mum wants.’ Billy raised his eyebrows at Glenda expectantly, then instantly regretted his suggestion when he remembered that Betty Howard would be working in the shop.
‘If you want,’ Glenda replied, though Billy noticed that she didn’t seem very keen. Maybe she too was worried about Betty seeing them together.
Glenda walked as fast as she could along the bustling street, wishing to spend as little time as possible with Billy Myers. She felt uncomfortable with him at her side and wished he hadn’t accompanied her to the shop, but she couldn’t think of a way to get rid of him. It had been embarrassing in the baths with him hanging around. After all, it’s not the sort of place you would expect to see a man. She had noticed some of the other washerwomen whispering and tittering and had seen the disapproving looks, but what could she do? She didn’t want to appear rude to one of Harry’s mates.
Billy had taken her by surprise; she hadn’t expected him to suggest they go for tea. She did love a nice pastry and the ever-so-posh tearooms served up the best cakes in the area, far better than the rock cakes she baked every Sunday morning (if she could get hold of the ingredients). Harry liked the tearooms too and once a month they would visit them together on a Saturday afternoon, Harry’s way of spoiling her. Of course, Harry knew the girls who worked as waitresses and thanks to his cheeky grin and flirty banter he always got an extra slice of Victoria sponge on his plate. She could just imagine his reaction if he heard that she was in there with Billy Myers. And the girls in the shop would definitely tell him, that she was sure of.
The conversation with Billy felt fraught and though Glenda didn’t like the man, he seemed lonely and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. It was also good of him to take time off work to look after his mother, but Billy obviously didn’t know Harry very well. If he did, he would never have invited her to afternoon tea.
Once they got to the greengrocer’s, Billy stopped in his tracks and rummaged through his pockets. ‘I’ve only gone and left the list indoors,’ he said, ‘I’ll have to pop home and get it.’
‘OK, Billy. Thanks for your help. I hope your mum feels better soon,’ Glenda replied as relief washed over her. Thank goodness he’s finally going, she thought, but before he turned to walk away, Betty Howard pranced around the corner and glared accusingly at her.
‘Fancy seeing you two here … together,’ Betty sneered as she eyed Glenda up and down. ‘There’s me just finishing my fag break and look what I find.’
‘Billy’s mum is poorly,’ Glenda explained, suddenly feeling guilty but not knowing why. ‘He was on his way to get her some shopping and I bumped into him.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ said Betty, ‘so how come she was in here early this morning, buying spuds for your dinner tonight, Billy?’
Glenda was taken aback. She couldn’t think why Billy had lied to her. Unless of course, he was just skiving off work for no good reason. Now both women glared at Billy, waiting for him to answer.
‘I … I … I dunno what you’re on about. She must have felt better and popped out when I went to the post office for her.’
Billy didn’t sound very convincing but Glenda found she didn’t care. She didn’t want to stand around in the cold wind to question him any further.
‘Funny,’ said Betty, ‘she didn’t mention anything.’
‘What is this, the Spanish inquisition? What’s it got to do with you anyhow? Bugger this, I’m off!’ said Billy as he turned on his heels and marched down the street.
‘Wait, Billy,’ called Betty as she rushed after him.
Glenda glanced back at the two of them as she entered the shop, and just caught sight of Betty tugging at Billy’s arm. Good luck to them, she thought, then focused on what was needed for the larder at home.
It was half past seven that night when Glenda finally heard Harry’s key in the front door. She rushed to the kitchen and, using a tea towel, took his plate from the oven which she’d set on low to keep his dinner warm. As she placed it on the kitchen table, Harry leaned against the door frame and she could tell from the smell of stale cigarettes and alcohol that he had been in the pub for a good few hours. Her heart sank. It had been such a good week together; the atmosphere had been light and cheery. Harry had even run her a hot bath before bed on two occasions, but as he walked towards the kitchen table with a scowl on his face, she dreaded his blackened mood.
‘Hello, love. I’ve done you a nice bit of belly of pork, here you go,’ said Glenda nervously. If he had knocked off work early and had a few, she didn’t want to do or say anything to start him off.
‘Where’s my boy?’ Harry asked as he sat at the table.
‘He’s tucked up in bed, fast asleep.’
‘Put him to bed early, did you? Wanted him out of the way?’ Harry was growling and Glenda felt her stomach tie in knots.
‘What do you mean, Harry? He goes down at seven every night, you know that.’ She tried to make her voice sound light, hoping it would placate him.
Suddenly Glenda heard the chair scrape back as Harry jumped to his feet. She watched in frozen horror as he lifted the dinner plate and threw it across the room, the china smashing against the wall just to the side of her head.
‘Don’t take me for a bloody fool, woman!’
Glenda could see gravy dripping down the wall, but was rooted to the spot as Harry upturned the kitchen table – the only thing standing between him and her getting another beating. There was no way she would be able to pass him to get to the kitchen door and, before she had a chance to dodge his grasp, Glenda felt her head tug back as Harry grabbed a handful of her hair.
‘I know you’ve been with that Billy Myers today,’ he hissed in her face. ‘Betty couldn’t wait to tell me!’
‘I … he … I just bumped into him down the high street. That’s all. He spoke to me and I couldn’t just ignore him.’ The pain in her scalp intensified as Harry clenched her hair tighter.
‘What a load of crap! I’ve seen you looking at him. Off shopping together, were you? Has he been round here, in my house? IN MY BED? Is that why you’ve got Johnnie out of the way, so you can be with your fancy man?’
‘No, Harry! I swear. There’s nothing going on. I don’t even like the man,’ Glenda was squealing but, as she pleaded for Harry to believe her, he brought his fist down hard on her face. She felt her head swim then warm blood trickle down her cheek. She tried to focus but her right eye wouldn’t open. Then she saw his fist coming towards her again and suddenly her legs went wobbly as the world faded out around her.
Glenda’s head was throbbing as she tried to open her eyes. She could feel someone patting the back of her hand as a woman’s voice slowly drifted into her consciousness.
‘That’s it, my dear, open your eyes. You’re all right now. You’re in hospital.’
Who was that talking to her? What did she say? I’m in hospital? Glenda’s thoughts were confused. Bright lights blurred her vision as she lifted her other hand to her painful head and felt something wrapped around it. Bandages … Hospital …
‘You took a nasty fall down your stairs. Don’t worry, though. A few days’ rest will sort out that bump and those bruises.’
‘Johnnie … where’s Johnnie?’ Glenda managed to whisper. Her throat felt so dry and coarse.
‘Is Johnnie your husband, dear? Don’t worry, he’ll be back later when it’s visiting time. Lucky for you that he found you when he did. Now just you rest. I’ll be back to check on you later.’
Glenda saw the figure of a nurse in a blue dress and white starched apron and hat get up from her bedside. She turned her head to the side and could see another bed a few feet away from her and one on the other side too. The nurse had said she had fallen down the stairs but although Glenda had taken a bash to the head, there was nothing wrong with her memory.
As she lay in the hospital ward, she recalled the moment when her husband had knocked her out cold. This time, his fists had finally knocked the love out of her too.
Chapter 3
Friends and relatives of the other patients buzzed around the ward as visiting time commenced. Some carried bags of fruit, probably late apples, and others had newspapers and magazines ready to greet their poorly loved ones with.
As Glenda lay in bed with the pillows plumped up behind her a little girl tiptoed past, holding her mother’s hand. Glenda tried to raise a smile at the young child but found her face was too tender as a sharp pain shot through her jaw. She winced and noticed the little girl looking back at her with a look of dismay.
‘Mummy, Mummy,’ the girl cried loudly so that all in the ward could hear, ‘look at that lady. Why does she look like a monster?’
Glenda was horrified. She hadn’t seen her reflection in a mirror and had no idea what she looked like – did she look grotesque? Ashamed, she quickly pulled the bed covers high and painfully rolled to her side, trying to hide from prying eyes.
‘Glenda, Glenda, love. It’s me.’
Glenda recognised Harry’s voice behind her at her bedside but was reluctant to turn over and face him.
‘Look, I’ve brought you a lovely bunch of flowers. Chrysanthemums, your favourite.’
No, they’re not, thought Glenda bitterly, daffodils or white lilies are my favourites.
‘Here, love, I’ve got you a packet of Jaffa Cakes too. Don’t ask me how I got hold of them,’ he said, ‘but I’d do anything for you, love.’
Who are you trying to kid? she thought, still unwilling to speak. It’s him that loves them and I bet Maude got them from one of her many cronies. Oh, how bloody thoughtful! She wanted to tell him where to stick his flowers and Jaffa Cakes, but instead she reluctantly eased herself round to face him, desperate to know of Johnnie’s well-being.
She heard Harry gasp as he saw the state of her face and the bandage wrapped around her head. From what the little girl had said, she knew it was bad. Her lips felt twice their normal size and she had felt with her tongue that two of her side teeth were missing. That’s it, she thought, take a good look. You did this.
‘Glenda, oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I’ve put you in here,’ Harry whispered. ‘I bloody hate hospitals, the smell and all that. This place gives me the heebie jeebies so I won’t stay long, but my mum will be up to see you later and I’ve had a word with the doc. He says you’ll be out in a day or two. I promise you, I’ll make it up to you then.’
He leaned in to kiss her cheek but Glenda turned her face away.
‘Come on, girl, don’t be like that. You know I didn’t mean it. Look, I admit I went a bit too far, but you’ve gotta learn that you can’t go running around the streets with a low-life like Billy bloody Myers! What do you reckon all the lads down the Castle think, eh? They’ve all heard about you and Billy, Betty made sure of that, and I can’t have them thinking I can’t control my own wife, now, can I? Come on, give your old man a kiss …’
Glenda could feel her temperature rising along with her anger. The selfish bastard, she thought, wanting to spit in his face rather than kiss him, but she forced herself to keep calm, still desperate to know about her baby.
‘Where’s Johnnie?’ she asked curtly.
‘With my mum, of course. I could hardly leave him with yours. The poor old girl can hardly put the kettle on by herself, let alone see to the boy.’
‘And is he all right?’
‘Course he is, but he’ll be glad to get his mum home.’
‘Can you ask your mum to bring him to see me?’
‘Nah, she said it’s best not to. There might be all sorts of germs and things in this place and we don’t want him catching anything nasty. Now, how about that kiss?’
‘Harry, can’t you see it’s painful for me to talk, let alone give you a kiss? Anyhow, I really don’t feel like kissing you right now!’ Glenda answered huffily through gritted teeth.
Lips tightening, Harry whispered menacingly, ‘Stop being so bloody daft and just be grateful that I didn’t leave you at the bottom of those stairs.’
‘Stairs!’ Glenda exclaimed, her voice getting louder. ‘You and me both know that I didn’t fall down any stairs!’
There was a bit of a scuffling noise behind Harry and he turned to see what was going on. Glenda noticed a hospital porter in a dark grey coat helping a woman in the next bed into a wheelchair.
‘Keep your bloody voice down, will you!’ Harry hissed into Glenda’s ear. ‘If you say one word to any of this lot about how you came to be in here, I promise you, you’ll regret it.’
Glenda held her breath, terrified by Harry’s threat. She knew exactly what he was capable of now, and she had to stay strong for little Johnnie. ‘OK, I promise. I won’t say a word,’ she said, her heart sinking. This was a fight she was never going to win.
Harry hadn’t stayed long, much to Glenda’s relief, and just as the final visitors were leaving the ward the woman who had been in the next bed returned with the same hospital porter wheeling her chair. As two nurses helped the woman back into bed, Glenda winced as she turned on her side again, not wanting to engage in conversation with anyone. Thankfully, whoever was in the bed to this side of her had their curtain pulled round, so at least Glenda felt she had a little privacy to cry in peace.
‘Excuse me, Miss.’
Glenda turned to see who was addressing her now, assuming it must be a doctor, but was surprised to see the porter hovering close to her bedside.
‘I just wondered if you’d like me to find a vase and some water for your flowers,’ he said, indicating the chrysanthemums on her bedside cupboard.
‘Oh, thank you. That’s very kind of you,’ answered Glenda, but in reality she didn’t care if the flowers wilted and died.
‘Back in a jiffy then,’ said the man with a smile.
A few minutes later, true to his word, the porter was back at her bedside and was placing her flowers in the vase he had found.
‘There you go, pretty as a picture.’ He smiled at Glenda again.
She immediately noticed his piercing blue eyes that were emphasised by jet-black hair which he wore greased back.
‘The flowers, I meant, not you … pretty as a picture. Oh, no, I mean … you are pretty as a picture, but I didn’t mean that when I said pretty as a picture … but you are. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being forward. I didn’t mean …’
Glenda hid a smile. He was so nervous, but he was kind too, so she assured him, ‘It’s all right. I know what you meant, and thanks.’
‘Sorry, I’ll start again. Your flowers look as pretty as a picture. Did your husband bring them in for you?’
Glenda’s momentary light mood rapidly darkened again at the thought of Harry. ‘Yes, he did,’ she answered, avoiding the porter’s kind blue eyes.
‘I thought he had. My name’s Frank, by the way. I work here, across this and three other wards on this floor. Amongst other things I take patients to departments for X-rays and tests. I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you looked a bit upset earlier when your husband was here.’
Glenda would have loved to tell Frank that her husband was a selfish, violent man and it was because of him that she was in this hospital bed, but with Harry’s threat still ringing clearly in her ears she thought better of it. ‘I’m just missing my little boy, that’s all,’ she lied instead.
‘Only, from where I was standing, I was pretty sure he was warning you off about something.’
‘No, not at all. Look, I don’t mean to be rude, Frank, but it’s really none of your business,’ Glenda answered, surprised that Frank had heard the conversation with Harry.
‘Yeah, you’re right. Sorry for sticking my nose in. I just don’t like to see women getting knocked about. I saw my dad lay into my mum enough times when I was a kid and wished I had been older and big enough to stand up for her. But I wasn’t. Thank God the old git is dead now, killed when a bomb landed on our house, but all the same I wouldn’t want to see a bully like Harry Jenkins hitting a defenceless woman like yourself.’
‘So you know my Harry, do you?’ Glenda asked in surprise.
‘Not as such, but I know of him. He was a few years above me in school, but even back then he was known for being a bit handy with his fists. I’ve got a list of all the patients on the ward and when I saw you was a Glenda Jenkins, I put two and two together.’
Glenda had always known that Harry had a reputation for being tough, but when she met him she hadn’t known he was a bully. She used to like the way he would warn off other men that looked at her; it made her feel special. Unfortunately, she knew differently now.
‘Frank,’ she said, ‘you seem like a nice man and thanks for your concern, but honestly you’d be well advised to keep out of Harry’s business, especially where I’m involved.’
‘You don’t have to suffer in silence, Glenda. I’m just saying, if he’s done this to you and threatened you to keep your mouth shut, you don’t have to. I know what blokes like him are like and if you wanna talk, I’m happy to listen.’
But before Glenda could answer, a rotund woman called out to Frank, ‘Mr Myers, if you have quite finished with Mrs Jenkins, please make your way to ward seven.’
‘Gotta dash.’ Frank winked. ‘Sister will have my guts for garters if I stand around here chatting much longer. See you later.’ And with that he was gone.
Glenda lay gobsmacked. Sister had called him Mr Myers, but surely he couldn’t be related to Billy Myers? She didn’t know anything about Billy’s family, and he had only ever mentioned his mother, but both he and Frank had black hair so maybe they were related in some way. Glenda closed her eyes, thinking that if Frank had anything at all to do with Billy, it was all the more reason why he should stay well clear of her.
The next morning, Glenda awoke early as nurses hustled back and forth medicating patients, and tea trolleys clattered up the stark ward. She longed to get home and see Johnnie, especially as Harry had said that Maude didn’t think the baby should be brought to the hospital. She could understand why, and, not only that, but the state of her face would probably frighten the life out of him. Nonetheless, she missed her baby desperately and was eager to get out of there.
Visiting time seemed hours away, which was a relief to Glenda. She was worried that Maude might find someone to keep an eye on Johnnie and come visit her alone, and she wasn’t up to facing the woman. It would mean yet another lecture about how wonderful her son was and how she should be grateful that he’d picked her to marry. And though she appreciated the fact that Maude was looking after Johnnie, she worried about the sort of food he would be given. Despite the shortages, Maude was fond of feeding him bread and butter dipped in sugar, insisting it was good for him, but Glenda feared that all that sugar would rot his new teeth that were just breaking through his gums. And the whisky, well, surely that wasn’t healthy!
Frank’s cheery voice suddenly snapped her out of her worrying thoughts. ‘Good morning, Mrs Jenkins! I must say, you’re looking a lot perkier today.’
‘Hello, Frank. Thanks, yes, I’m feeling much better than I did yesterday. Obviously the bed rest and hospital food agree with me.’
‘Glad to hear it, as I have a little treat for some of you lovely ladies today,’ said Frank, smiling at several of the women in the surrounding beds.
‘And what’s that then, Frank?’ a middle-aged woman called from across the ward.
‘Well,’ Frank answered, looking rather pleased with himself, ‘Sister has agreed that as the weather has changed, an Indian summer making it warm for October, those that are feeling up to it can come on my voyage surprise. How about that then, ladies!’
‘What the blinking ’eck is a voyage surprise?’ asked the same woman.
‘It’s a film, a French one which I have on good authority was very funny when it was shown in Paris. Now in the meantime, my voyage surprise means I get to wheel you lovelies outside to the gardens for an hour. And look, I’ve got some old crusts for the birds.’
Glenda watched, amused, as a quiet cheer went around the small ward. Frank was certainly popular with the patients and had an ease about him that made you feel instantly comfortable.
‘And what about you, Mrs Jenkins? Will you be joining us today?’ he asked.
‘Oh, I don’t know, Frank. I don’t think that will be such a good idea. What with Harry, you know,’ Glenda whispered.
Frank stepped closer to her bed. ‘Don’t you worry about him,’ he said with a grin. ‘What he don’t know won’t hurt. Anyhow, it’s Sister’s orders so let Harry have it out with her if he dares!’
For the first time since being in hospital, Glenda laughed. Sister was quite a forbidding woman and Glenda couldn’t see Harry arguing with her. In fact, she reminded Glenda a little of Maude.
‘I’ll take that giggle as a yes then,’ said Frank and he turned, clicked his heels in the air and bid a ‘see you all later’ to the rest of the ladies on the ward.
Helen Atkins looked at the small bag of fruit in her hand. It wasn’t much, but her part-time cleaning job didn’t pay very well and the two apples were all she could stretch to. Still, she reasoned, Glenda had never really been one for fruit. She knew her friend well. They had grown up living next door to each other and had formed a very close bond.
The red double-decker tram left Battersea Junction and headed along Falcon Road towards the park. From there, Helen would walk to the Free Hospital and, although she was familiar with the area, she still loved to look out at the views from the top deck.
As the tram rumbled along the track, Helen rolled the paper ticket in her hand and remembered the last time she had been to this hospital. It had been when her father had had a funny turn, which turned out to be a stroke. He had been left disabled, and Helen now had to care for him as well as her mum, who sadly had a touch of dementia.
Helen didn’t mind, though; she understood that it was difficult for her two elder sisters to help out much. After all, they were busy with their own families, and, although Helen doubted she would ever have children of her own, she did enjoy being her nieces’ and nephews’ favourite aunty.
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