Untold Stories (58 page)

An old lady, Dolly, in bed or possibly lying on the bed in her clothes. There are
three other beds in the room but we do not see them
. (We don't see them also because Thora was too frail to do the piece on television but only on radio.)

I love Tuesdays.

We get our hair done in the morning. We have bilberry tart to our dinner and Mr Pilling comes in the afternoon.

I said to Blanche, ‘I wouldn't care if every day was a Tuesday. It's grand.'

I didn't use to like the Bible, only Mr Pilling gives it such feeling. Widower. Retired. Had a little gents' outfitters over at Rawdon. Blanche'll put on her lipstick when he comes.

Pause
.

Our Vera came this morning and all. Paid us a state visit. Her and… Neville, is it?… the feller she's married to now. Member of the boating fraternity. Blazer. Little cap. Weighing anchor at Tadcaster so they thought they could pop in en route.

I said, ‘How's my house?'

She said, ‘We've put in a conservatory.'

I said, ‘Am I allowed to die yet?'

She said, ‘Don't be silly, mother.'

She counts on her fingers
.

It'll be six years now.

End of section. Go to black
.

Bindra's just been round with the air freshener when Mr Pilling arrives. Raincoat always neatly folded. Puts it down on the bed. Holds up the Bible. Lovely fingernails. I complimented him on them once and he said ‘Well, it's not something I would want broadcasting, Mrs Walker, but I have them manicured. Kelly does them at Salon Snippets and I count it money well spent.' Never looks at you when he's doing it. Just
concentrates on the words of the New Testament.

Down goes the raincoat, up comes the Bible and away we go.

There's four of us in the room and he'll generally kick off with Annie or Lois because they're both confused. Then Blanche, then me. ‘My two princesses' is what he calls us.

And this afternoon he's just got started down at the daft end when who should turn up again but our Vera.

I thought, ‘Oh stink.'

I said, ‘I know why you've come. You're bothered I might peg out. It's that fiddle you did over my house.'

I reckoned to give it to her to save tax, but I had to last another seven years and it must be coming up to the seven now.

She said, ‘Oh, is it? I haven't been counting. Only it's not a fiddle. The Queen Mother did it so it must be all right.'

I said, ‘Yes, only her daughter didn't put her in a home.'

By this time, Mr Pilling's on with Blanche.

I said to Vera, ‘I'm next, so you'd better be off or he'll be reading the Bible to you.'

That does the trick and she suddenly remembers she's got a stint at Age Concern.

And I said, ‘There's no need to keep coming. I'm not going to die out of spite.'

Only she doesn't hear and I see she's watching Mr Pilling.

I said, ‘My daughter's going now, Mr Pilling.'

He just nods but doesn't stop reading, then (
she mimes withdrawing
movement
) waves his other hand.

When it's my turn, Mr Pilling says, ‘A grand-looking woman, your daughter.'

I said, ‘You're not alone in that opinion.'

‘Why,' he says, ‘who else thinks so?'

I said, ‘She does.'

He smiled.

‘I'm going to read from St Paul's Epistle to the Ephesians.'

And he pats my leg.

End of section
.

You wouldn't credit it, but on the following Tuesday our Vera's here again.

I thought, ‘If you want to see me that badly, why did you put me in a home in the first place?'

Mr Pilling's already reading to Annie, who's banging her tray most of the time but it doesn't bother him, just reads.

Vera enthrones herself by my bed but she's naught to say and I must have dozed off because when I come round she's gone.

I said to Blanche, ‘Did our Vera go?'

‘No, mother,' she whispers, ‘I'm here.' And for some reason she's hiding behind the bed.

I said, ‘What are you doing there? Come sit down.'

Meanwhile, Mr Pilling's come over to Blanche.

Our Vera's sat with her back to him and she still hasn't got much to say.

I said, ‘How's the navy?'

She said, ‘What?'

I said, ‘The round-the-world yachtsman?
Neville
?'

She doesn't say anything and when I look I see it's because she's glued to my washbasin mirror.

I call out to Blanche.

‘Our Vera can see you in the mirror, Blanche. Give her a wave, Mr Pilling. There you are, Vera, he's waving.'

Vera looks right mad.

‘Funny name, Blanche, for somebody that age. What's his name?'

I said, ‘Arthur.' Only we never call him that. We're not on such familiar terms.

Mr Pilling comes over in a bit and says ‘I'm afraid, Mrs Walker, I'm going to have to curtail my visit. Rain wasn't forecast and I foolishly ventured out without my umbrella.'

He folds his scarf, puts his little gloves on. ‘
A
bientôt
. Don't the daffodils look a picture?'

When he's gone, Vera says, ‘Presumably they're all confused except you.'

I said, ‘Who?'

She said, ‘The other women.'

I said, ‘Blanche isn't confused. They took her on a trip to Harewood House.'

Vera said, ‘What's she doing blonde? At her age? Does she dye it?'

I said, ‘Well, they dye it for her.'

She said, ‘Yes, but she must give them the green light. A name like Blanche. Anybody'd know they were on an easy wicket. No wonder he gets his hands under the bedclothes. He knows he's assured of a warm welcome.'

She takes both my hands.

‘Oh, mother, mother. You've had such a narrow escape.'

I said, ‘Have I?'

End of section
.

Lovely ears this lad had. He kept asking me these questions and blushing, and his ears blushed as well. I've never seen that before.

He said did I know what the word ‘traumatised' meant, and had a list of things I might feel.

Did I feel: annoyed

angry

injured

assaulted

damaged

polluted

violated?

I said, ‘No.'

He said, ‘What then?'

So I told him.

He wasn't the police. I don't think it's got that far. I think he's just a lad from the solicitors.

It's all our Vera.

She said to me, ‘Oh, mother. To think, mother, if you'd been that bit younger he might have tried it on with you.'

I said, ‘Yes, I'm lucky.'

She said, ‘Little glasses, raincoat. The Bible was just a smokescreen. He was an animal.

‘Anyway, it's over.

‘You won't be wanting to stay here, I can understand that. And I don't blame you. I don't want you living in a place where they turn a blind eye to sexual molestation.

‘We'll find you somewhere else. I've heard very good reports of a place over at Cawood.'

I said, ‘Cawood? There's nothing at Cawood. I get few enough visitors as it is. Nobody's going to pole over to Cawood.'

She said, ‘We would, mother, and that's all you want.'

I said, ‘You mean it's handy for the boat?'

She said, ‘Well, we can't let you stay here. And once we've put in the claim for compensation, they won't let you.'

I said, ‘How do you mean, compensation?'

She said, ‘Mother, the home has a duty of care. He was interfering with people. Fortunately, not you; you're too old. But your friend, Blanche, and the other two… I saw him.'

I said, ‘So what's going to happen to Mr Pilling?'

She said, ‘Well, for obvious reasons the home isn't anxious to prosecute, but he'll never show his face again here, I can tell you.'

She said, ‘Shall you want counselling?'

I said, ‘Yes, I bloody well do want counselling.
If
he stops.'

She said, ‘What?'

I said, ‘I used to look forward to his visits. I lived for Tuesdays. We all did.'

She said, ‘Mother, you disgust me.'

I said, ‘Not as much as you disgust me. And always have, you po-faced article. Not to put too fine a point on it, I like having the tops of my legs stroked, even at my age, and so does Blanche and if there's a gentleman like Mr Pilling willing to undertake the task and derive
pleasure from it then I prefer to think of that not as something disgusting but as God moving in his mysterious way.

‘That or else he deserves the Duke of Edinburgh's Award.'

And I said, ‘I'm not moving from this home. It's not ideal but it's better than the last dump you put me in.

‘I shall tell them it was all done of my own free will. We were consenting adults.

‘So you can kiss goodbye to your flaming compensation.'

Bindra comes in with the air freshener.

I said ‘Bindra. I think Mrs Turnbull wants a tissue.'

End of section
.

It's lovely Blanche and me having our own room.

We've got a TV that we can switch off and we don't have Radio 1 blaring out all the time, or Lois banging her tray. We've each got one of these cassette things and we can have the window open if we want.

The home were so grateful I didn't want any compensation, they put us in here at a discount. Vera still wanted to shift me somewhere else but the rate was so reasonable Neville wouldn't hear of it. So boat or no boat, he turns out to have more sense than she does.

Mr Pilling still comes over on Tuesdays and sometimes Thursdays as well, or Arthur as we now call him. We can't wean him off the religion but as I said to Blanche, without the Bible in one hand he doesn't seem to be able to function with the other.

We're on the Epistle of Timothy at the moment.

It's all very … ‘civilised' would I think be the word. And we've got a nice outlook. You can see the planes coming in to Leeds and Bradford airport and there's a view of the reservoir and sometimes I kid myself it's the sea.

I look out of the window on an evening, watching the last of the sun and I know it's daft, but sometimes I'll wave at it. (She waves.) Bye-bye, sun. See you tomorrow.

End
.

1911–2003

God give me work

Till my life shall end

And life

Till my work is done.