The Woman who Went to Bed for a Year

45

The next morning, Barry Wooton turned up on the doorstep with a woman he described to Yvonne as ‘a new friend’.

Yvonne, who was on the morning shift, led them upstairs to Eva’s bedroom, talking as she went. Like a parlour maid in a costume drama, she announced, ‘Mr Barry Wooton and Miss Angelica Hedge.’

Eva sat up in bed and said to Barry, You’re still here then?’

Barry laughed and said, ‘Yeah, thanks for that.’

Eva looked at Ms Hedge, waiting to be properly introduced.

Barry said, ‘She likes to be called Angel. She was waiting in line for a cab at the station. She said, ‘You look cheerful for a February morning,” and I said, “Well, it’s all down to the amazing Eva Beaver.” She wanted to meet you.

Angelica was a small, slight girl, with a no-style haircut. Heavy make-up could not conceal her owl-like features. She held out an unmanicured hand to Eva. Her voice was light and devoid of accent. She said, ‘It’s an honour to meet you, Mrs Beaver. I think it’s wonderful that you saved Barry’s life.’

Barry said, ‘She’s a saint.’

Angelica continued, ‘But beware, I think it was Confucius, or it might have been Plato, who said, “If you save a man’s life, he is yours for ever.”‘

Barry said, ‘Well, I wun’t mind that, but I don’t know about Eva.’

Eva gave a weak smile, and allowed her hand to be shaken for slightly too long. She made general demurring sounds.

Angelica asked, ‘Was it your mother-in-law who showed us in?’

‘Yvonne,’ said Eva.

‘And how old is Yvonne?’ asked Angelica.

Eva said, ‘How old? I don’t know Seventy-five, seventy-six?’

‘And does she live here?’

‘No, she calls in three or four times a week.’

‘And your children?’

‘They’re seventeen,’ said Eva. Then she asked herself, ‘Why does she want to know how old everybody is? Perhaps the girl is autistic.’

‘And you, how old are you?’

Eva thought, ‘Yes, she’s autistic.’ She asked Angelica, ‘How old do you think I am?’

‘I can never tell with older people. You could be a young-looking sixty or an old-looking forty. Who knows now we’ve got Botox?’

Eva said, Well, I’m a fifty-looking fifty.’

‘And how long have you lived here?’

‘Twenty-six years,’ said Eva. She thought, ‘This is going to be tiresome.’

Angelica said, ‘Barry tells me that you are bedridden. That’s tragic.’

‘No, I’m not bedridden and it’s not tragic.’

‘You’re so brave. Is your husband’s name Brian?’

‘Yes.’

‘And how old is he?’

‘He’s fifty-five.’

Yvonne came into the room and asked, ‘Would your guests like some refreshments, Eva? We have tea, we have coffee, we have hot chocolate and, of course, we have various cold drinks. And I think I could rustle up a few light snacks.’

Eva could almost have leapt out of her bed, strangled Yvonne and thrown her down the stairs, such was her rage. She thought, ‘Yvonne has never really liked me, and now here’s the proof.’

Barry and the girl turned to Yvonne gratefully and said, ‘Hot chocolate,’ in unison. This made them laugh, and Barry invited Angelica to sit in the soup chair. He perched on the arm and they both stared at Eva. Eva threw herself back on the pillows. Yvonne took her time on the stairs, unaware that Eva was counting every second before her unwanted quests were on the street side of the front door.

An agonising thirty-five minutes followed, during which Yvonne handed scalding-hot mugs of milky drinking chocolate to Barry and Angelica, who promptly dropped them when their knuckles came into contact with the fearsome heat.

The boiling brown liquid splashed over Barry’s legs and ran along the white floorboards. His nylon socks retained the heat and he screamed in pain. There was a lot of kerfuffle as Yvonne tried to stem the flow with a meagre handful of toilet tissue she’d taken from the lavatory.

Eva was shouting, ‘Cold water! Put your feet in cold water!’

But nobody was listening.

Above Barry’s cries of pain, and Angelica’s little squeals, Yvonne raged at Eva, shouting, ‘Don’t blame me, there’s nowhere in this room to put anything down! Why did you have to get rid of your furniture?’

Eva tried to lower the metaphorical heat, saying with a smile, ‘A tip, Yvonne, when handing out mugs of boiling liquid try supplying asbestos gloves beforehand.’

Yvonne shouted, ‘A tip, Eva? Here’s one for you! People lolling in their beds, admiring their navels, should not try to ridicule people who are walking about actually doing things! I should be at home. This is not even my day for looking after you, Ruby should be here! But, guess what? She’s having one of her convenient “heads”. And I’m expecting a parcel from Amazon! It’s Alan Titchmarsh’s When I Was a Nipper, and they’ve been kind enough to track down a signed first edition for me. It will make a complete set. I’ve left a note on the front door, asking the courier to put it in the coal bunker – but that’s supposing he can read English!’

Angelica said, ‘What is a coal bunker?’

Yvonne snapped, ‘It’s a bunker for putting coal in.’

Eva said, ‘Don’t you want to know the age of the coal bunker?’

‘Well, how old is it?’

‘It will be sixty next birthday.’

There followed a great palaver as the floor was mopped, clothes were removed and scalded skin was cooled with unguents that Yvonne brought out of her large handbag. While Yvonne found a dressing gown big enough for Barry, and was washing his socks and trousers, Angelica engaged him in conversation.

She started with, ‘How old are you, Barry?’

‘I’m thirty-six,’ said Barry. ‘Don’t tell me I look older, I know I do. It’s the nights. I can’t sleep in the day. I’ve got Massive Attack on one side of me and summat classical on the other. I’ve asked them to turn it down but they’re both bastards. I’ve got high heels above me and a bloody barking dog below. Never move to a modern flat. It’s no wonder I was desperate. If I hadn’t knocked on Eva’s door, I would’ve had my head in a Tesco’s carrier bag, i’n’t that right, Eva?’

Eva said, faintly, ‘Possibly.’

‘I’m telling you, this woman is a saint. Who else do you know who’d open their door to a desperate man like I were?’

Eva muttered, ‘The Samaritans?’

Barry carried on. ‘It’s just knowing that there’s somebody in this world who’ll give up their sleep to talk to a stranger in the night.’

Eva said quietly to Angelica, ‘I had no choice. He forced his way in.’

Angelica said, ‘Exactly what time was this?

Barry said, ‘It was three twenty-seven a.m.’

‘And how did you feel when this stranger forced his way into your bedroom? Alarmed, shocked, terrified?’

Eva said, ‘Well, I was certainly surprised.’

Barry said, ‘She should get a medal or something.’

‘So, would you say that you were a compassionate woman?’

Eva thought for a moment. ‘Not particularly.’

Every nerve in her body was taut with irritation. She felt her temper stirring, like a bear waking from hibernation. She tried to disassociate herself from the present and attempted to think of other things. She began to walk on the beach of a Greek island. The sparkling Aegean Sea was to her left, and her rented villa was a few steps to her right. But after a few moments, she lost the struggle and was back in the bedroom with her tormentors.

Barry was droning on. ‘I’ve made some friends on the computer. They’re people like me what want to kill themselves. They’re a lovely bunch, we had a right laugh.’

Angelica said, ‘I’ve often felt that life is not worth living. Have you got the web address?’

Barry rummaged in his jacket pocket, and brought out a little red diary. He spelled out the address laboriously. ‘It’s topurselfuk dot org.’ Then he turned to Eva and asked, ‘Is Brian Junior in? I’d like to thank him for his help, an’ all. Would you mind if I gave my new friends your address?’

Eva wailed, ‘Barry, no!’

He said, ‘You’re too modest, Eva, people should know what a great woman you are. You shouldn’t hide your light under a whatsit.’

Eva shouted ‘Yvonne!’

She heard her mother-in-law’s snail-paced progress upstairs before she eventually came into the bedroom.

‘Yvonne, Barry and his friend are leaving now Will you please fetch his clothes?’

Yvonne said, ‘They won’t be ready yet, I’ve only just popped them into the dryer. If he puts them on now, he’ll get pneumonia.’

Eva said, struggling to keep her voice even, ‘That is a myth perpetuated by old-age pensioners. You cannot catch pneumonia from wearing damp socks and trousers. If that were the case, my whole school would have contracted pneumonia after a wet playtime.’ Her temper began to struggle out of her throat. ‘I spent half of my childhood wet or damp. A gaberdine mac is not impervious to snowstorms or torrential rain. I slept in a room with a bucket in the corner because the fucking roof leaked. So, Barry, go downstairs with Yvonne and Angelica, put on your damp clothes, and leave!’

Barry was near to tears, he’d thought that Eva was his friend. This was a big blow.

Angelica switched off the little Sony machine that had been recording in the top pocket of her cowboy shirt.

Yvonne said to her daughter-in-law, We haven’t seen Mr Temper for a long time, have we, Eva? No, and Mr Temper hasn’t got a leg to stand on. I’ve lost count of my relatives, friends and acquaintances who’ve contracted pneumonia because they didn’t sufficiently air their washing!’

Eva yelled back, ‘And that myth is why we had to put up with bloody washing hanging around the house until Saturday! It would be washing on Monday, drying in front of the coal fire on Tuesday, folding on Wednesday, ironing on Thursday, and airing on Friday and Saturday. Put the clothes away on Sunday, and start all over again on Monday! And, on each of those bloody days, my mother was a martyr. It was like living in a Chinese laundry!’

Angelica said, Well, I’ve got to go back to work anyway.

Barry said sadly, ‘I’ll give you a lift.’

Yvonne said, ‘Goodbye, Eva, you may not see me for a while. I’ve been extremely hurt by your remarks. I’ve been badly done by.’

Eva said, ‘Barry, you look fantastic, a different man. I’m sorry I’ve been such a cow If you’re driving and you see me at the window, give me a wave. I’d like to see your lights in the dark. It’ll reassure me you’re still around.’

Barry said, ‘You are a lovely woman, Eva. I want to buy you a present. What do you like?’

‘I like everything. Anything you choose, Barry, would be gratefully received.’

Eva watched Barry and Angelica drive away.

A few minutes later, Yvonne left the house.

Eva saw with dismay that she was limping heavily. She was wearing her knitted beret with the pompom back to front. Eva thought about opening the window and telling her so, but she did not want to risk Yvonne thinking that she was mocking her in any way.

After three days had passed and Yvonne had not returned, Brian went to find out why.

He came back, looking worried, saying, ‘Mother seems to have developed an obsession with Alan Titchmarsh, and is threatening to make Mr Titchmarsh a beneficiary in her will.’ He added, ‘She wasn’t wearing any make-up, I didn’t recognise her at first.’ Then, sadly, ‘I think she might be losing her marbles.’