Wintergreen

*** Continuation of my previous two stories (but can be read as a standalone piece). References to domestic abuse and serious illness***

Helen, I’m sorry I accused you.

Forget it, darling, life’s too short… Do have a vol au vent, I made them especially…

Mmm… lovely…

And a little Prosecco…?

You spoil me, you know…

Nonsense, Evelyn, it’s your birthday…

And nothing says December birthday – fifty-ninth December birthday - more than a picnic in the park…

Now, now, don’t forget the Christmas Market… Ah! What a ride… Bet you didn’t expect you’d be up there flying?

I certainly did not. How high do you reckon we were?

Don’t know, take a look for yourself… Now, just imagine there’s no machinery; no harness holding them in, those people look just like little birds… Wings spread before the cool winter sun, the faded forget-me-not sky… That was us, girl.

The man gave me a funny look when I said I wasn’t a concession. Asked if I was sure I could manage. Think he thought you were my daughter…

And then I would have told him, ‘No darling, I’m the mother.’

And you would have, too, wouldn’t you…?

Anything for my dearest friend… So, here’s to you not yet being sixty and here’s to me having reached that milestone three months ago and survived…

And still having men in their thirties chatting you up…

And that’s not all it’s cracked up to be, darling, believe me. You saw how that fellow took to his heels when I told him our mutual friend was the son of my ex and I’d changed his nappy many a time… Well, cheers again - to you and me, and the freedom that comes with age…

To soaring…

To soaring high…

Not with Dave, though…?

Oh no, never with Dave…

Like I say, Helen, I’m ever so sorry. I should have known there’d be an innocent explanation… I mean, Cass’s husband’s a lovely man and all that, but girl code aside, thinking about it now, I really couldn’t imagine you’d want him as anything more than a friend.

No?

Er… hours in front of the mirror, socks on in bed? Boots too sometimes?

Oh, Evelyn, that’s cruel… And, I know, I know, Cass likes to have her little digs, and it’s only ever between us and in good fun, but that’s half the problem really, why he feels so insecure. Her making light of his issues.

His foot issue mainly?

Exactly.

And so, the arm around your shoulder, was just his way of thanking you for listening.

Well, you know how I like to lend support.

Suppose it would seem quite a big deal – facing it on his own.

Oh, he was fine about the wellness retreat until he realised, and that’s when the panic set in.

About baring his feet?

Hmm, wouldn’t have got on the train if I hadn’t been there. And I gave him a little something to calm him down so he was grateful for that…

Helen, you didn’t!

It’s fine, it was only herbal.

Well, I suggest you don’t tell Cass. Ever seen the way she scowls every time we go past Holland and Barratt? That’s down to him. ‘Trust me’, she says, ‘to marry a man hooked on supplements…’

You don’t think she knows, do you?

What? About the alternative remedies or the heart to hearts? Well, she was sitting right across from me when we saw the pair of you at the station, but she hasn’t mentioned it since.

Yes, it’s just that she was kind of off with me when I called her about the gerbils… Just thought she might know who they belonged to. Her Freya’s forever on Facebook sharing those animal rescue posts. All those lost cats. And that’s what had me worried when I saw them scampering about my garden like that. Made me quite ill thinking what might happen, and there’s her being all snippy, asking if I wanted to borrow Pusskin… ‘Rat catcher extraordinaire’, she said, ‘knows exactly how to deal with vermin’, and just like that she cut me off… Cried off today as well, and that’s not like her.

Maybe she knew what you had in store. Remember that time at Camera Obscura?

Oh yes, when we went out onto the balcony and she tried to drag us back by the coattails, thinking we’d fall over the edge…? Or when she climbed up onto that cupboard on her stairway to paint the wall and had to call Dave to come and get her down. Little Freya in fits of giggles.

Good job Dave answered or she’d have been onto the fire brigade. And good job he thought to call you in to come to the rescue, couldn’t exactly leave old Mrs Farmer mid-root canal, now could he…?

Oh, great days, Evelyn, weren’t they? We did have a laugh…

Not always though, unfortunately. Not always…

No, of course not. You had a tough time of it with that husband of yours, I know that… And I know how lucky I was never to fall into those traps. First little warning bell - or red flag as the young like to call it these days – and they wouldn’t see me for dust. No children of my own though, that’s the downside… Still, onwards and upwards…

Not suggesting what I think you are, Helen? I really don’t think my stomach could take another flight. Not now I’ve had the Prosecco…

No, just stretching my legs before they completely seize up… And…

Whatever are you rooting in that hamper for now? Thought you’d brought everything out…

No, not quite. Tah dah!

Oh, Helen, come on now… What did I say? Not to make a big fuss…

Fuss? What fuss? It’s only a cake. It’s the least you deserve on your birthday.

But Helen, it’s amazing. It must have taken you hours. The petals on those flowers, and those strawberries, you’d think they were real. You sure you want to cut it? You’d make a fortune selling that down there on the market.

You like it then?

Like it, Helen? You’re going to have me in tears…

Just trying to make up for all those years you had to do without.

Yes, I told you, didn’t I, how that miserly sod never even gave me so much as a card? And the time the kids tried to make it special. Well, you know what kids are like. Made more mess than anything else and almost started a fire. Some birthday that was when he took his belt to them, waving it around, slamming it on the table, raving on about wasting the eggs and how much it would cost leaving the oven on high. Fair had them cowering, screaming until they knew it was best to shut up. Twisted my arm as well. Like a madman he was, thought he’d dislocated my shoulder, and me having to drive the next day for the Meals on Wheels. He hated me doing that as well - volunteering. Hated me doing anything really... You knew there was something up, didn’t you? Something more than rheumatics?

Oh Evelyn, don’t, it’s over, all over. And just look how strong you’ve become… Light the candle, make a wish, and make it a good one…

But be careful what you wish for, that’s what your mother said wasn’t it?

That’s right. Every year from the time I was nine when I wished for a little sister.

And then your father left and you discovered his other family…

Yes, Princess and Angel, two for the price of one… Still, no point in dwelling, getting all maudlin on your birthday. Let’s get this candle lit and just pray it won’t go out in the wind… It’s really quite still considering how blustery it was last week. I swear Sue thought I’d gone nuts when I told her my plans... But the storm, Helen. I’d be battening down the hatches not playing dollies' tea parties out in the wilds.

Dollies? Is that how she see us?

Pretty much. More me than you.

Which was why she didn’t come?

Oh no, she’d have been here, just got roped into helping with the children’s nativity.

Aha! Wonder how it’ll go this year?

Oh, she’ll be up to ninety as usual. Already is. That great-nephew of hers is in it again, so she’ll probably have had a breakdown by the end of it. She’s already made it clear to all and sundry that he’s not to be given any lines.

Oh, but that was so funny last year. Her shouting out for him to speak up, to remember she only had one good ear, and him getting so mixed up telling the story because of it.

And Mary put the manger in the river and the baby Jesus got eaten by the crocodiles… Sue was absolutely mortified… He’s a donkey this year, apparently. Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw. Night and day, his mother tells me, he never stops.

That was the same little lad we saw in Tesco that time, wasn’t it?

Doing the middle finger to his mum when she refused to buy him Coco Pops? That’s right.

He’s a comic, mind. Swear word, swear word…! Have you ever?

Well, at least he didn’t actually swear… Now where did I put that lighter…?

Tried your handbag, Helen? It could be in there. Here, I’ll take a look… Ach, there’s papers everywhere, they’re all falling out…

No, Evelyn… I…

Oncology…? What…? Sorry, I didn’t mean… Tell me this isn’t yours. Your mother’s appointment, right…? No, you would have told me if she was ill, wouldn’t you? You would have said so.

Evelyn, I…

And the date... Helen, that was last week when you and Dave got on the train. I knew there was something odd. I just knew it. You didn’t go to your mum’s did you? And the wellness retreat…?

No, Dave was going to but… Oh, Evelyn, it was just easier not to tell you or Cass… And it’s only a little tumour. I’ve got time yet…

A little…! Oh, Helen…

Tell you what, it put things into perspective for him, though… About his feet. And he’s rebooked that retreat. Going to go swimming too, just like Cass always wanted. Isn’t that marvelous after all these years…?

But you, Helen, what about you…?

Me…? See that…?

What? The park?

I was thinking more of the greenery, how it stretches as far as the eye can see… Ever watch The Green Mile…?

Yes…

Remember how it ends, with what’s his name saying that every one of us is walking our own green mile, our own death row? Well, you can either drag your feet and plod along, scared of slipping or tripping and watching out for every thorn, or you can run and dance and skip – fly too if you get the chance – and that’s exactly what I intend to do for as long as I’m able…

But they can treat it, right? You’re going to get better…

Don’t tell Cass, will you?

But…

No, darling, I’ve heard far too many sorries already, and having to accept them when they really don’t need to be said does get a little wearing… Coming? Time yet to blow the candle out… Let’s just hoof ourselves up here and take a selfie. City in the background, that incredible sky, and do you remember when we did the Meals on Wheels and Mrs Turnbull always insisted on wrapping up a little something for us for Christmas…?

Sure do, it was always the same… Wintergreen, awful stuff, stank to high heaven, but it was sweet of her.

It was. And, you know, it grew on me that smell. Oh, darling, who would ever have thought it…?