The Woman Who Kept Everything. Jane Gilley

yesterday, when Jocelyn crumpled her world.

      Anyway, she knew she had to try and focus and forget about her woes for one day, if she was to have a lovely afternoon out with Tilsbury, unbeknown to Clegg. She would definitely need to talk to her son about these things, at some point, but she didn’t feel strong enough to cope with it all now.

      She’d struggled to get into the coat Green’s Nursing Home had supplied her, along with a pair of fuddy shoes, and another ill-fitting Crimplene dress.

      And that was another thing! Her daughter-in-law had promised they’d go shopping for new clothes when they got back from the nursing home. Unfortunately, all Val’s good intentions hadn’t materialised yet. And the only conversations she’d had with her was when Val insisted that Gloria should relax in the conservatory or watch the television, when they were out.

      ‘You’ll need to be patient with us, for a while, Gloria, because we’re a very busy family at the moment,’ Val explained, when Gloria first arrived.

      Well, Gloria had sat obediently waiting for some attention from them, for weeks. But the days had crept by, which was okay at first because she could watch all the TV programmes she liked and there was food aplenty. But – apart from one afternoon’s drive to a lovely public garden somewhere – Gloria hadn’t left the house at all. Nor had she had a proper conversation with them about anything. The whole ‘process’ of being with them had simply felt awkward and contrived.

      Anyway, not wanting to give her son any further reason for alarm or arguments, she wrote a short note, telling them she was going out for tea ‘with a friend’ so they wouldn’t worry.

      Ratta-tat went a knock on the door. Gloria pulled it open.

      ‘Oh my God, Tilsbury! We’re not going on that are we?’

      Gloria, in her tight-fitting coat, slightly oversized shoes and pale pink polka dot dress that, ordinarily, she wouldn’t be caught dead in, stared in astonishment at the scabby, clapped-out scooter she knew belonged to Jocelyn.

      ‘It’s okay, Glor. It goes at least. It’ll get us into town, anyways. I got her helmet for you. The cops won’t pull us over with helmets on!’

      ‘But I’m wearing a ruddy DRESS, Tils, and I’m seventy-nine!’

      Tilsbury tried to not laugh at the vision forming in his mind.

      ‘Aw, c’mon, Glor! It don’t matter what you got on. Live a little. You’ve been stuck in that ruddy overcrowded house since forever! C’mon, my love. This’ll just be a one-off trip down memory lane. Like old times? Anyways, Jocelyn gave us a fiver to get tea in the park gardens.’

      Gloria laughed heartily. ‘Bloody nicked it you mean! Christ, Tils, you’re the man! Okay, okay. Well, how to do this then? Least it’s not far I suppose, is it?’

      ‘No, Glor, and I’ll go the back lanes. And I’ll getcha back in time for your bloody rotten son!’

      Gloria shook her head. It seemed like a crazy idea.

      Ordinarily she wouldn’t entertain such madness. A thought popped into her head – why didn’t Jocelyn ever call the police over Tilsbury’s nicking sprees? He had clearly nicked that fiver! She wondered if Jocelyn still had a soft spot for the irascible man, like everyone did. Apart from Clegg. Perhaps that was it. Perhaps that’s why she lent him the scooter. Or did he steal that too?

      Gloria sighed. What to do?

      However, whilst studying her dress and handbag and knowing none of it was ideal to be riding a scooter in, she came to a snap decision. At least it was a warm sunny summer’s day, with a slight mischievous breeze, ripe for fun.

       Oh what the hell!

      ‘Okay, Tilsbury. Shift forward and let me on. And hold it steady – and I mean steady. And if you start larkin’ about on it, I’m gettin’ off. Plus you’ll have to help me get me leg over.’

      Tilsbury couldn’t stop himself chuckling at that.

      ‘Oi! I meant over the seat, you bad man! Here! You got enough fuel in it? I don’t want us breakin’ down en route.’

       Chapter 10

      It had been a bumpy, ungainly ride to the tea rooms, that afternoon.

      Tilsbury chuckled to himself every time Gloria let out a yelp when they went over a pothole or swerved to avoid something unsavoury in the road. She was sure he was driving scarily on purpose but clung on tight when he went round bends. She hoped they wouldn’t see anyone they knew and was just starting to relax into his particular way of riding when they arrived.

      Tilsbury stopped the engine and held the scooter steady whilst Gloria slipped forward and struggled to get off, straightening her dress and hooking her bag back over her arm. She muttered a little but otherwise acknowledged she had actually arrived safely.

      The young girl at the counter in the Park Gardens Tea Room frowned when Tilsbury told her he didn’t have enough to pay for two cream teas consisting of scrummy-looking fruit scones, jam, cream and tea for two.

      The bill came to £5.90 but Tilsbury didn’t have any more than the fiver Jocelyn had given him. And there was NO way he’d ask Gloria for the extra. This was supposed to be his treat to her. He hadn’t taken her out in ages and it felt good doing something for her after all this time.

      ‘Couldn’t we do a deal here, love? Me an’ the missus – well, we’re quite poor, you see. Don’t have much at our age apart from our meagre pensions. Don’t even go out much, either, you know?’

      The youngster was on her own whilst the other waitress was outside taking orders and clearing tables. Tilsbury had clocked that there didn’t seem to be anyone else in charge, on the premises.

      ‘Um well, okay. But what I could do is cut the scone in half, with the two teas and then – I’m not supposed to – but I could give you two biscuits as well. And then I can charge you for one tea and one cream tea for £4.05. Let’s say £4.00. And you’ll get the biscuits for free. Would that be all right?’

      Tilsbury chuckled to himself. Clever girl. He’d still got a deal and some change to boot.

      He nodded with a big grin. ‘That’d be just fine, my love!’

      He carried the laden tray over to Gloria sitting by the window. She’d deemed it a little too blowy to be sitting outside. But her eyes lit up as Tilsbury set the table with their cream tea.

      ‘Cor, Tils. I haven’t had a ruddy cream tea in absolutely years!’

      ‘I know, my love. So get stuck into that one then. Bet you’re glad you came out with me now, aren’t you!’

      Gloria nodded vigorously, chomping down on her half of the scone, caked with cream and strawberry jam.

      ‘S’lovely!’ Gloria murmured, as a few crumbs spilled onto her lap.

      * * *

      A cream tea amongst the colourful herbaceous perennials of the Park Garden Tea Rooms was completely delightful and both Gloria and Tilsbury sat patting their tums, afterwards, in appreciation.

      Gloria reached out and got hold of Tilsbury’s hand.

      ‘That was crackin’, Tils. And I do thank you from the bottom of me heart. You’ve always been a good ’un to me, ducks!’

      ‘I’ve always had a soft spot for you, you know.’

      Gloria wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh, I know that, ducks, and I love ya to bits, too!’

      ‘Right, well, Glor, we’ve still got some time before I takes ya back to yer miserable son. So, I’m thinking … How about – now wait for it! I remember you saying this to me, last year.