change. You had to go quite a way, anyway,
for a drink, in Thundersley, as when they were building
all those bungalows they forgot to build any
pubs, or shops too for that matter, I did hear the
land had belonged to some religious people or other
in the first place, who wouldn’t allow the thought
of drink on their property, but that doesn’t
explain why there were no shops. Soon people
began converting their front rooms into shops, and
Ted and I toyed with the idea at one time, to give
me something to do, as I was free of children, but
in the end we decided against it, no need, we were
comfortably off.
Clear up? That means Ivy clear up… I thought
so. Yes, I will. Here we go again. Don’t finish
the one I’m doing, just bung it all in the box,
glue and all. Can I have yours, Ron, please?
And Mrs Bowen?
Ta muchly.
Let’s put the finished ones in this empty box,
shall we?
Good. We’ve done a good
day’s work, our lot. What about that old cow
Ridge’s stuff? Not much here. In fact
nothing at all. Say nothing. Just collect the
glue and the paper and the scissors.
Oh! I wouldn’t touch
you with someone else’s bargepole, you dirty fat git!
You say that louder
so’s she can hear, and you’ll get the twitcher
again! Move away, quickly.
What about the dummies, what have they done?
Next to nothing. As usual What a mess,
Mr Hedbury! As usual for him, too.
Yes, that’s it, give her the twitcher, the slobbery
cow, the twitcher!
What a mess, Mrs Stanton! Nothing. Ah well,
Ivy to clear up, as usual, as usual.
Pile them away in the cupboard, anyhow.
Ah — that’s
where the mice get in, through the wainscot there.
They must like this glue. Shall I tell her about
it? Not now. What’s she on about? Pass the what?
I just want to sit down and get on with my book and
have a nice feel.
No chance of that now.
Oh, a relief to sit down again, a relief.
Scratch it, scratch my fan, relief too.
Now then, we’re ready to
go. Sarah, then Charlie, then me.
I never win these things,
never have. Here. Don’t even talk
to that cow Ridge. The lucky cow! The
music’s stopped and she’s got first go at opening
it! Music again. Snatch it and give it to Ron. And
you! One of these days… .
Sarah’s got it. Go on, Sarah, undo it!
Not quite there.
Here it comes. Quickly to Ridge, quicker it goes the
sooner it’ll come back to me — not while she’s keeping
it though! Pass the parcel! That
shithouse again — wonder she’s allowed in a good clean
House like this. Oh — Ron’s got it undone. What’s in it, Ron?
Ha ha ha — shouldn’t laugh, really. But
can’t help it, ha ha. She said you’d get a lovely
surprise, Ron! Ha ha ha ha ha! And you have, too!
Ho ho ho!
Didn’t we used to go at it! What jousts we
had! Jousts, Ted used to call them, his prick a
great lance he’d charge me with, more like a pink
rubber truncheon it looked with its mackintosh on.
Takes a long while these days.
Longer and
longer. But we get there in the end.
Always!
On the Readicut rug in front of the gasfire, that
was a good one, a particularly memorable one.
Long, that took long, but it was extra special
good when I did come. Chintz we had on the chairs
then, chintz was all the go in Southend at that time.
And making rugs at home. I’d made that rug from a
kit, they sent you all — Exercise?
Like a prison, this is. Exercise time. I like a
good walk, a tramp over the moors. Oh well, I can
finish later, I wasn’t nearly there, anyway. Mrs
Stanton would like a push round, I’ll do her,
sacrifice myself and feel good, because she
smells the worst.
Off we go! Yes, she
does stink! How are you, Mrs S?
No answer. I’ve never heard her speak since I
came here. CAN’T HEAR A THING, CAN YOU,
MRS STANTON? Poor old
girl. Wonder what she was when she was young?
Didn’t prepare herself for this, obviously. I did.
When my Ted went I knew what was coming, so I
prepared myself for it. They say women live
longer than men because they never retire. Men
don’t prepare themselves for retirement, as a
rule. It’s their own funeral. Women are better,
anyway.
Push, how she’s a weight. DON’T GET ANY
LIGHTER, DO YOU, MRS STANTON?
Puffs you out.
Ivy won’t end up in a place like this, I said, Ivy
won’t.
There we were, stuck on this little railway station,
in the middle of nowhere. Oh, you could read the
name of the place well enough, there were lights
on, I’ll say that for them, but it didn’t tell
you anything that mattered. And Ted blamed me
for not looking out for the place, and I blamed
him for wanting his little bit and tiring me
out so that I fell asleep. It was a carriage
with no corridors and we had a compartment to
ourselves, it was tempting at the time, we thought
why not, we were young then. And the only train
stopping at that time of night was going in the
opposite direction, so we had the choice of
nothing, since he had to be at work at nine sharp
the next day, but sleeping on the wooden benches,
and damn me if he doesn’t want another bit there
and then, because he couldn’t sleep, he said, and
it was so funny we both burst out laughing and it
was all right again. Now she’s dropped off.
The things I remember! Push
her over there. All right, Mrs Stanton?
Yes, she’s all right.
Sport! More effort! No, I’m going to sit this
one out, she can’t make me take part if I don’t want
to, I’m going to read my book, here it — Ivy again,
fetch and carry, get the mops. All right, I’ll get
the mops but then I’m going to sit down and get on
with my book. One, two, wet. There.
And at least she thanks me.
Now where’s my book?
Here.
My marker, torn newspaper. Ah,
“A bus is not caught by either my father or myself,
a number eleven, that is, the one we came by, on
our return. We walk down the whole length of North
End Road. We always do this. We enjoy the street
market. Occasionally my father buys something.
Usually it is vegetables. Today he buys some Felixmeat
for the dog. The dog is a perverse dog.
Felixmeat is his delight, nothing can make earth
seem more like heaven than Felixmeat, in his view.
I feel it is fortunate that not more of us have