Stacy was lounging on the reception desk with her head in her hands, daydreaming.
She loved her work in the library and had been there so long she knew her duties back to front. She loved all of it, the cataloguing, the classifying and developing of library resources; dealing with reader’s queries on reception and showing people where the magazines or non-fiction or the microfiche machines were – yes, people were surprised they still used those. But today was exceptionally quiet for some reason and her supervisor had already mentioned her lackadaisical manner. Yet it was so easy to get side-tracked, ruminating about other things, when nothing much was happening. She did have a list of literature searches to do and needed the books ready for when the gentleman in question came in to collect them at 3 p.m. today. But that was a good few hours away yet.
Abstractedly, she was remembering the woman who’d upset her at the community centre. There were a couple of tetchy women who frequented the community centre, she’d noticed. Stacy couldn’t understand why some people had to take their annoyance out on others. Didn’t they throw plates and smash things in the anger rooms in China to vent their frustrations? She’d read about that. What a good idea that was!
One of the women had, at first glance, basically looked all right. She reminded Stacy of her kindly Sunday school teacher when she and her brother arrived late, slouching and poking about around the graves, trying to find the oldest gravestone or the one with the youngest occupant, because they didn’t actually want to go inside the church and do yet more colouring in of the three wise men or make paper angels.
But the woman had screwed her face up and pouted when Stacy had sat down next to her.
‘Good grief! Please stop,’ she’d said, making Stacy feel uncomfortable, until someone had suggested she might not be feeling well.
Then after the tea party, Stacy remembered hurrying back to her flat because of her cats. But she’d called into the corner shop, en route, to get them a little treat. In front of her in the queue was a tiny, frail-looking old lady with a faded flowery summer dress on that looked six sizes too big for her. She was stooped so that her head nearly touched the counter where her purchases – three tins of cat food, a tin of peas and the cheapest packet of dried mashed potatoes – sat on the conveyor belt.
Stacy had wondered if the peas and mashed potato were to pad out the cat food? She often spiced up her own cats’ meals with other ingredients. Just for variety. Who wants to eat the same things all the time? And why should pets be subjected to the same old tins of food just because they were animals?
‘Hello! I see you have cats, judging by your purchases. Do they eat peas then? Mine won’t eat anything like that,’ she’d told the old lady, bending down so she would hear her.
The old lady had jumped a little, as Stacy’s face came into her periphery, then she smiled.
‘Oh hello! No, the potatoes and peas are mine, deary. Don’t eat much these days. You don’t when you get to my age.’
Stacy had heard this sort of thing before, especially with elderly people who had pets. She’d sincerely hoped she wouldn’t only be able to afford peas and powdered potatoes when she turned eighty or so. As the little old lady paid for her purchases, Stacy put hers on the conveyor belt.
The old lady was ambling along, leaning heavily on her walking stick when Stacy caught up with her and ‘bumped’ into her.
‘Oh sorry,’ Stacy had said. ‘Not watching where I’m going. Silly me.’
She’d smiled as the little old lady trundled off into the distance, hoping that she would be tempted to eat the sardines and smoked salmon she found in her coat pocket later.
I wonder if anyone else is just as lonely as me? Stacy thought, with a sigh, and then sat bolt upright as the first customer of the day walked into the library and she was brought back to the present.
***
Simon dropped his father off at the community centre for his third visit to the afternoon tea party and waved goodbye. Raymond watched him drive away.
Raymond was very proud of his son and felt blessed that Simon cared about him the way he did. He was always ringing and making sure he had enough shopping for the week and that his washing was done. Simon said he wanted to make sure that the ordinary things that kept life ticking over got done. Yet Raymond knew Simon’s attitude was mainly down to Dianne’s unswerving love and devotion towards all things familial when she’d been alive. He knew he had a lot to be thankful for.
‘They’re going to read out our suggestions this week, so I can’t wait to hear what everyone else thinks,’ Raymond had told his son in the car, earlier, en route to the community centre.
‘So the old dear who caused an uproar hasn’t put you off going then?’
‘Well, like I said, it wasn’t nice. But I’ll give it another shot this week and see where I go from there. I did enjoy that first week and I didn’t expect to. You don’t mind dropping me off again do you, son?’
‘Good heavens no, Dad. I’ll drop you wherever you want to go and at any time. You only have to ask. So go enjoy it and see what else they have to offer by way of outings. Have some fun!’
***
‘Do you mind if I sit here?’ the middle-aged woman with faded blonde hair curled up into an untidy bun, huge dangly gold earrings and bright pink lipstick covering slightly wonky lips had asked Marjorie.
‘How she looked! And why nobody said a thing about the way she looked is mind-boggling, dear. That cheap lipstick just didn’t do her any justice at all. In fact, it drew attention to her crooked lips. Why she didn’t go for a nude colour, instead, I don’t know,’ Marjorie had said dourly, recounting that week’s afternoon tea over dinner with Gracie later that evening.
Gracie had given her a stern look and then shaken her head, despairingly.
‘I can’t believe you’re telling me this, after what we spoke about the other day, Mother. You tell me you want to change but all I hear from you is how you simply can’t stop putting other people down or criticising some aspect of their looks or behaviour. But it’s got to stop, Mum. It drives me mad. You’ve got to realise that nobody is perfect and they shouldn’t be berated for their imperfections! Now, I’ve got quite a lot of marking to do tonight, and I’m going to do it at the desk in my bedroom so I’m not disturbed,’ Gracie had said with a frown.
Marjorie knew Gracie meant that she didn’t want to be disturbed by her mother. That thought made her want to curl up and hide at her daughter’s harsh words. Yet hadn’t she given herself a strict talking-to in the park that wet afternoon? Hadn’t she already convinced herself she was going to change for the better? But when would she be able to implement that change in herself? It was so easy to simply mock or scorn the afflicted. It tripped from her lips or flew into her thoughts the minute she spotted someone acting or looking different. Yet Marjorie knew it was wrong. She knew it was unfair of her. It was Oliver’s bloody fault but she simply couldn’t shake his awful behaviour. It had somehow disgustingly rubbed off on her after all the years she’d been subjected to his foul mouth and nasty ways.
She had to make it up to Gracie. ‘Well, look, darling,’ she began uncertainly. ‘By way of talking about something, um, happier. I did apologise today about that incident before and I think that helped.’
Gracie stared. ‘You apologised today? My God. The woman has a heart, after all!’
But it was true. Marjorie had taken her first step towards being more positive and civil to others. And it had started with an apology, at the community centre earlier that day, because she did not want to be excluded from the possibility of making new friends. Lou had gone with her and Gracie had dropped them both off.
Marjorie had been pleased that Lou had been able to come to the community centre with her because they hadn’t seen each other in ages, due to the fact Lou had been ill, with flu. She realised they needed to start doing more things together now she was better, even though they did live a good few miles apart.
‘S’lovely this is, here!’ Lou had grinned, looking around at everybody as she started on her second piece of lemon drizzle cake.
Lou didn’t drive and being overweight meant it was difficult for her to get out and about easily, even for something as simple as a walk, although she did have a walking frame. Gracie occasionally dropped Marjorie off to see Lou at the weekend or would pick Lou up and take them both to a café, for a cuppa. But they hadn’t done that in a while. Yet, although Lou was happy enough eating her afternoon tea, Marjorie had already noticed that her old friend was not her usual jovial self. She’d been very quiet and seemed depressed in Gracie’s car on the way over. And when she’d come to get out of the car, Lou’s movements had been very laboured. Both Gracie and Marjorie had struggled to get her out. She had no family to speak of, well apart from her son Derek, who she rarely saw and who rarely visited her in her tiny ground-floor flat. And because a carer only came in once a week to bathe her, to help with the shopping and clean the flat, Marjorie wondered if it was time to start having a talk with her friend about an alternative arrangement. Crikey, she knew Lou would balk at the idea of going into a home but it might simply mean that since she was finding things more difficult she’d probably only need more regular help. Either way, Marjorie decided to ask Gracie if she’d drop her off at her friend’s next weekend so she could talk things over with her.
With Lou by her side, Marjorie had stood up, when everyone had eaten their fill and asked Eileen and Taynor if she could speak before they got down to the business of reading out what excursions had been suggested for the new community project. The young girl she’d spoken sharply to wasn’t there but Marjorie was hoping that, by apologising to everyone, it would put her firmly on the road to behaving like a well-adjusted member of the community, at least. It was a start, for her, at any rate.
Both the organisers had looked surprised when Marjorie came forward and stood next to them and then turned to the audience.
‘Um, sorry, folks. Can I just have a minute? Um, I’d just like to say that I’m very sorry for my outburst last week. I know it upset some of you. But I’ve, er, I’ve been having some difficulties in my life. Things I’d, um, rather not discuss here. But I just want to apologise and let you know it won’t happen again. That’s all really. I’ve … I’ve come here to make friends. Not to alienate anyone. So that’s all. Thank you.’
There was a surprised silence at first. Then people started to react.
‘Apology accepted!’ shouted someone who started clapping.
Eileen smiled at her and said in a low voice, ‘We all make mistakes and we’re sorry you have troubles in your life, Marjorie.’
‘It was nice of you to apologise, Marjorie. Thanks for putting things right,’ said Taynor, as Marjorie returned to her seat.
‘Takes guts to apologise,’ said someone else, also clapping.
Marjorie suddenly felt better about things as she approached her table and sat down, amid the whole room clapping her.
‘’Ere? What was all that about then, Marj?’ said Lou, in wonder.
But Marjorie just smiled and tapped the side of her nose. ‘Oh, don’t worry about all that. Question is, are you enjoying yourself?’
Lou nodded vigorously. ‘It’s been wonderful, thanks. I don’t get out much any more, you know. And they all seem like really nice people ’ere.’
‘Yes they are, Lou. So you’ll have to come again!’
And then Marjorie even forced herself to smile at the woman with the brightly coloured wonky lips.
***
‘Right! So to finish up, now,’ Eileen said, shuffling the sheets of paper in front of her. ‘The activity suggestions are as follows. That’s most of you wanting regular afternoon tea but not always in the community centre. Well, like we said before, it won’t always be here. It depends what other events they’ve got on here. Sometimes you’d like to go out on a country drive, finishing up somewhere pretty for afternoon tea. Most of you also want an afternoon where you go to learn something new. So the top three topics suggested are, learning how to use a computer and the internet; painting and drawing; and an occasional day trip out to the seaside. You’d also like us to arrange a mini trip away somewhere for three days or less, once a year, and you say you’re happy to pay for it, as long as it’s not too expensive or problematic. Okay. The two top spots for that outing are overnight in London to see a show and probably Bournemouth – to frolic in the sea, as Raymond puts it, which did make us laugh. So would you say that is a fair representation of what you’d all like? Would anyone prefer anything different, apart from Margo at the front, here, who would also like swimming lessons? There’s a pool nearby, so that can be easily arranged.’
‘I never learned to swim, you see,’ Margo said to the woman next to her. ‘And my family said I’m too old to go learning about that now. They say I should be at home resting and just watching telly. But I’m bored with all that.’
‘Okay, good people,’ said Taynor. ‘Now Eileen and I will type up our findings and get you to all sign a sheet that we’ll eventually submit to our bosses. Please bring anyone along with you, next time, who might also like to sign our sheets. And, of course, they can have afternoon tea, as well. Obviously the more people who wish to make this happen, the more weight this will have when we finally have our meeting in two weeks’ time. At that meeting we will try to firm up all other possible trips or courses we’d like to secure on your behalf. And if this means that a small charge is levied for, say, the services of a coach driver, would you be happy to pay for this? Unfortunately, at this stage, we don’t know how much will be allocated for these community activities.’
Murmurs went around the hall. People were fidgeting from sitting in one place for too long. A couple of people moved off to use the toilet. Some people said they needed their families to take them shopping before the shops closed. Marjorie was watching the proceedings with interest. They seemed to be balking at the mention of charges being necessary. Yet did councils store excess funds for the elderly or homebound, to have a lovely time out once or twice a month? Probably not!
‘Actually, let me clarify a thing or two, first.’ Taynor began to explain, ‘You see, whatever else we can agree with our bosses regarding ongoing activities for the community, Eileen and I have been told we can get funding to at least be able to offer you afternoon tea on a monthly or possibly twice monthly basis, somewhere else, once we find a suitable full-time venue. So that’s a given. However, what Eileen and I want for you are more engaging activities as well. Yet this is an unknown. We don’t know what else they’ll agree to, over and above your afternoon tea. Do you understand?’
Everyone stopped fidgeting. Marjorie saw Raymond on the other side of the hall put his hand up.
‘Well, as long as it’s not too expensive, love. We’re pensioners, most of us. Every penny is accounted for. That’s the trouble. But I think I could spare six or seven pounds a month for an occasional trip out somewhere. You’d have to let us know how much you’re thinking about.’
‘Yes that’s a fair comment, Raymond,’ Eileen said. ‘Right, well, I can see you all need to be going home or elsewhere, so we’ll leave that thought with you and see what our bosses come up with. Just on another note, though, I would like to call our regular get-togethers the Afternoon Tea Club just so when you mention it to your friends they have a sense of what we’re all about. Does anybody think that’s a good idea?’
Everybody cheered and clapped at that. Well, yes! It sounded as if they really belonged to something now. Plus it would be something positive and enjoyable for them to look forward to every month. Hopefully, though, the council would advocate other activities when they saw how popular the Afternoon Tea Club was.
‘That’s a good idea!’ said Lou.
‘Yep, I like it, too,’ said someone else.
‘Feels like we’re part of something with that name. Yeah, it’s good!’ said another.
‘Right, well, have a good couple of weeks and we’ll see you all, the week after next, if any of you can make it. That’s the week after next because I’m on holiday next week. Yes, love, here again in two weeks, same time. Okay, well cheerio then for now folks. Cheerio,’ said Eileen.
Marjorie found herself thinking that she’d definitely come back. She felt she’d overcome something today and they weren’t such a bad lot here after all.