Mr Aloysius Lets the Cleaning Lady Go

Aloysius Lets the Cleaning Lady Go

It really was time to let the wretched woman go. Goodbye, but as graciously as possible, of course. Aloysius had forty pounds in his pocket and the words on the tip of his tongue. She stamped into the room, in the middle of a sentence as usual; another thing that irked him, her non-stop chatter.

“So, you see, Mr Aloysius, there is a big difference between being alone and being lonely, if you get my drift. A big difference.”

Maggie was unusually stern, having finished her hours. They were in the orchid house, where she was allowed one cigarette after her shift, but Mr Aloysius, having inadvertently broached a comment earlier, thought this might not be the case. He rather feared for his new Dendrobium and moved it slightly away from the floating smoke.

They were sitting at the potting table, with Maggie using a plant saucer for ash.

“It’s like this Maggie …” he began …

“Here’s my friend, Rosalind, been married 40 years, loses Harry just like that. So, you could say she’s alone. Anyway, after the crying her eyes out, and me and her with a bottle of the whisky, she says she always liked some flipping poem, about wearing purple and eating sausages and stuff.

Anyhows, we got the poem from the library, and blow me, if we didn’t do everything on it and she was like a new woman. Stupid things, but it made us laugh, going out in the rain in our slippers and that.

I didn’t get it really, I’m not a fan of purple at the best of times, and she doesn’t do everything in the poem now of course. She got this little white dog that sits on the end of the bed while she reads her library books, ‘til midday if she wants to and then off they go visiting all over.

Don’t get me wrong she grieves for Harry every day, she misses him heart and soul, but it’s been a couple of years now and she doesn’t feel lonely.”

Against his will, Aloysius found himself strangely interested.

“She does still eat a big plate of sausages all at one go sometimes. I’ve tried it myself. It’s very satisfying.”

“Maggie…”, Aloysius steeled himself.

Maggie paused, lit up another cigarette and Mr Aloysius, as discreetly as possible, opened a window by the rare Phalaenopsis and sat down again.

“My friends, Wendy and Sharon, I’ve told you about them, haven’t I, what works at the restaurant in town. Now I wouldn’t say they are the most sensitive girls around, and they’d be the first to say the same. But do you know what they hate working the most? Valentine’s Day. You’d think you’d want to work it for the tips, eh?”

Aloysius did indeed wonder why.

“But they try and wangle it for a day off on that day. They say it’s the saddest day of the flipping year; some of those couples sitting together, trying to look together, but they’re not, Mr A; they’re pretending, and they’re not alone, but some of them are feeling the loneliness, that’s what Wendy says. She says it makes her really sad. Them trying to look together and happy for the day, but not really; not really.”

Aloysius drew a determined breath.

“Then get me, eh. Nothing more I love than a good car trip on my own. Alone, Mr A. singing along to the music like anything. Smooth FM, all good songs on there. I like going up to places to see the birds; Flamborough Head and all the terns, puffins and such. You should get yourself out Mr A., a bit more, really. So, one day I’ve had a really good walk, got my binoculars and all, see the little chicks in their nests, it’s brilliant. Just as brilliant as yer beautiful orchids, if you don’t mind me saying.

And then I pass this family of four; the kids are real little shits, sorry to say that, but they are, the mam’s telling them they can have anything they want when they get back to the car; she’s as bad as them not wanting a walk, all moaning like mad.

Then the dad comes up behind, and it’s him I see, his eyes. He’s tried to do something different, maybe, take everyone for a bit of fresh air, but that’s not the point. His eyes, he’s like lonely and alone at the same time; like ‘is this the rest of my life?’ This spoilt wife and these spoilt kids? His eyes went down to a right desperate soul, I could tell. Lonely and alone; I’m not sure, I’ll have to think about that a bit more for my theory, you know.”

Aloysius could see it all, felt the breeze on his skin.

Maggie puffed away on her cigarette.

“Just finish this, Mr A. and then I’m off. Got me pilates class; I know, you wouldn’t believe it, but it’s good for me back.

Another time, I’d been down to see Sue one afternoon in Cleethorpes. That’s another story. But driving out, oh, it was such a beautiful sunny afternoon, and I had this real hankering for fish and chips. Sit by the beach, watch the waves, see everyone splashing around, glorious. So there I am, all settled under a tree, mouth watering, just starting on my fish and chips, when I felt like I had just stepped off a cliff and fell into a sea of lonely.

Oh, it was dreadful. All the world carried on around me; seagulls crying, children shouting, people laughing and chatting, and I was so apart from it, so, so lonely, it grabbed onto my insides and I started to cry into my chips. I don’t know what happened there, still don’t. I can still feel that lonely plunge today if I call it up. And I have never eaten fish and chips by myself since.”

Aloysius clutched the notes in his pocket.

“Right, I’m off. Have a think about it Mr A. when you said what you said today. Lonely, or just alone?

Come and see those lovely little baby birds on the cliff, eh? I’ll drive.”

Aloysius sighed. Another day, perhaps. That woman definitely had to go.