Secrets to Keep (40 page)

‘Found yourself a willing pupil at last, Gran?’

Both heads jerked up to look over at her startled.

‘Oh, indeed she has,’ proclaimed Ruth. ‘Earlier, Bertha very kindly let me try a sample of her hand cream. It’s made from lard, honey, oats and rosewater.’

‘Eh, up,’ Bertha chided her. ‘Yer don’t give recipes away or people will be making their own potions and not buying from me.’

Ruth looked mortified. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Truly I am.’

Bertha gave a chuckle. ‘Well, yer safe enough this time as my granddaughter and all my grandchildren have made it perfectly clear potion-making is not for them. Anyway, you were praising my potion to Aidy, so don’t let me deter yer.’

It was Ruth’s turn to chuckle. ‘Well, I was going to say that my hands have always felt coarse and rough after years of being scrubbed with carbolic, but after just one application of the hand lotion they’re so soft and smooth. And I never knew that oil made from primroses is good for the skin, too … and that the water from boiled celery stalks is good for soothing chilblains, which I suffer from badly in winter.

‘I’ve learned so much else today. That valerian can aid sleep; sage help the digestive system. I have seen several remedies Bertha has for stomach upsets that would be far kinder on the stomach that the dose of
bismuth a doctor would usually prescribe for the sufferer, which can in some cases actually cause a bleed in the stomach.’ She gave a thoughtful frown. ‘Doctor Strathmore really should take the trouble to come and study Bertha’s remedies and potions, and then he could have a wider choice in what he prescribes. I know you do well selling your non-medical remedies, Bertha, but I’m sure you’d be glad of the extra custom the doctor could send your way, and he would benefit from not spending the time it takes either to make up a medicine himself or write a prescription for the chemist.’

‘Doc thinks women like Gran are nothing more than charlatans, out to fleece people of their money. He told me that himself. He’s obviously had a bad experience and it’s coloured his views,’ Aidy explained.

‘Well, life does have a way of opening our eyes to things we previously shut them to,’ said Ruth, thoughtfully.

‘It would have to be something of volcanic proportions to make Doc change his mind. Talking of Doc … I had an awful shock today. He has given me the rest of the day off! I’m beginning to think he has got a human side after all. Anyway, Ruth, this means I can go bargain hunting down the market tonight, just on closing time, and get much more for us for the money. The Christmas spirit there is wonderful.
There are usually carol singers and hot mince pies, chestnuts, roast potato sellers, and all sorts of Christmassy things going on. I wondered if you’d like to come?’

‘Oh, I’d be just delighted!’ she cried.

‘And me, I’m coming too,’ said Bertha

Aidy smiled at her. ‘I took that for granted, Gran. And I expect the kids won’t want to miss it, so that’s all of us going.’

‘You had a nice surprise today and so did I, Aidy,’ Ruth told her. ‘I received a letter this morning and have secured myself a job in a private nursing home. For someone who’s not used to having any money, the pay sounds like a fortune but in fact it will just about allow me to keep myself if I am careful. I start on Boxing Day, the early shift from six in the morning until three in the afternoon. This means I’ll be able to finance a place of my own in a couple of weeks! I know I have only been with you a matter of days but I shall so miss living with you all. You are such lovely people and have made me feel so welcome and part of your family. I was wondering if you’d have any objection if I tried to get myself a little place around here, so I could see you all often?’

‘We expect no less,’ Aidy told her with conviction.

‘That’s right,’ agreed Bertha. ‘Besides, for once I’ve found someone who’s as interested in me potions as I am. I’m of the mind you might be the
one to pass on all my knowledge to, so it doesn’t die with me.’

‘Oh, Bertha, I’d be honoured. I am definitely that someone. When I am in the nursing home owner’s confidence, I shall tell her of your remedies with a view to encouraging her to buy some to try on her patients. I am sure she would definitely be interested in the lotion to help ease sores … I’m thinking of bed sores, you see.’

Aidy left them to it, to go into the kitchen to sort out her pay so that, after putting the weekly dues aside and accounting for Bertha’s contribution, she knew what she was left with to spend on the Christmas fare. As she tipped out her wage packet on to the pine kitchen table, she immediately noticed that something wasn’t right. She quickly counted the money up. Doc had given her ten shillings too much! His mistake surprised her, but it meant she’d have to make a detour by the surgery, which was out of her way, in all the slippery slush, to hand it back before she set off to town that evening to do her market shopping. Then she spotted a piece of paper sticking out of her pay packet. Curious, she pulled it out. On it was written in the doctor’s handwriting:
Merry Christmas
. So he had made no mistake. He had purposely given her extra. This show of kindness on his part was very unexpected.

A warm glow filled Aidy. That ten shillings was
going to make such a difference! She could buy the fruit and suet needed to make a pudding, get a small chicken for them instead of rabbit, have ham on their bread for tea instead of just margarine and a scrape of jam, plus a bit of bacon for breakfast. Oh, what treats! If the doctor had been there she would have kissed him, so delighted was she. Her low opinion of him rose for the third time.

On Christmas Day Aidy was serving up the dinner. The chicken was cooked to perfection; the roast potatoes, sprouts and carrots all dished up ready. The pudding was still boiling merrily away but was ready to be eaten and its aroma mingled nicely with all the other delicious smells filling the kitchen. In the back room five hungry people sat waiting patiently at the table for the food to arrive, Bertha and Ruth ready to jump up and fetch it as soon as Aidy gave them the go ahead. They’d already pulled the cheap crackers she had bought and were all wearing paper hats.

The previous evening, on their return from the market laden down with heavy bags, while Bertha and Aidy had set to work in the kitchen preparing the food, Ruth had set to in the back room and, along with the children, made home-made paper chains and hung them around the walls. Thanks to Ty’s generosity, Aidy was able to buy a tiny Christmas tree that they had stood in an old paint pot given to
them by a neighbour and filled with cold ashes to keep the tree straight. It had been adorned with the decorations Jessie had amassed over the years, some bought, most home-made. The room looked very festive. After dinner was cleared away, they planned to play parlour games and round events off by singing carols in the firelight. Unbeknown yet to her grandmother and Ruth, Aidy had hidden away a bottle of port for them to drink after the children had gone to bed.

‘That food ready yet, I’m starving?’ called out George. ‘And can I have a leg all to meself, like grown-up men do?’

‘I want a leg too if George is having one,’ shouted Betty.

‘And I want one too,’ called Marion.

In the kitchen Aidy was laughing to herself, wondering how she could make a part of the chicken resemble a leg so one of the children was not disappointed. If it hadn’t been for the doctor’s generosity, she wouldn’t have had that problem. Rabbits had four legs. Thinking of him, a vision of Ty rose before her. He was sitting at the table, all alone. And what would be on his plate? She knew that Doc had a regularly weekly order of food delivered to him from the local corner shop, but would he in fact go to all the trouble of cooking himself a full Christmas dinner or would he be settling for a bought meat pie
and potatoes, which she knew he often did? An idea came to her then. Doc had done something special to mark Christmas for her, maybe she could do something in return. Going to the pantry, she got another plate off the shelf and put it in the oven for a while to warm up.

Minutes later, she called Bertha and Ruth to help her take the filled plates through. When they put Betty’s before her, the child scanned it for her chicken leg and, not finding one but a piece of breast instead, wailed, ‘How come I never got a leg but George did?’ She had spotted the one on his plate.

‘Because the chicken I got only had one leg. He lost his other in an accident crossing the road, and as George is the man of the house, he’s the one who got the leg.’ Ignoring the fact that both Bertha and Ruth were looking at her quizzically, knowing they were both wondering where the other chicken leg had gone, Aidy told them all, ‘Make a start without me. My dinner is keeping hot in the oven. I have to go out on a quick errand.’

Marion piped up matter-of-factly, ‘If yer going up the graveyard to wish Mam a Happy Christmas, our Aidy, then yer don’t need to. Mam’s not there. She died ’cos her life on earth was over and she’s in …’ she paused and looked questioningly at Ruth who prompted her, ‘Spirit, dear’ … ‘Yeah, that’s right, she’s in spirit, up in heaven, which is just above the
clouds. And she’s watching over us all so she already knows we’re wishing her a Happy Christmas. When our time on earth is over then we will become spirits and join Mam up in heaven. I’ll get my dolly back from her then. Can I have some more gravy, Gran?’

A lump formed in Aidy’s throat. Ruth had been able to do what they had failed to. In a kind and thoughtful way, she’d got Marion to accept that she would never see her mother in the flesh again. She looked at Ruth and mouthed a thank you.

Ten minutes later Aidy knocked purposefully on the front door of the doctor’s residence. When it opened, for a moment she stood staring at the sight of the man before her, as if seeing him for the very first time. She was used to finding Ty dressed soberly in a three-piece suit and tie, always smart and tidy, always with a stern and formidable air about him. The man before her bore no resemblance to that. He was dressed in casual grey flannel trousers and a V-necked sleeveless pullover over a shirt worn open at the neck. He had a pair of old slippers on his feet. His usually immaculately groomed hair was tousled, as though he’d just woken from sleep, and he was sporting a day’s growth of beard. But above all it was his eyes that mesmerised her. How come she had never noticed what an unusual shade of green they were, almost a pale turquoise? They seemed to be
drawing her in. Then her gaze took in the rest of his face, and now that it wasn’t set in its usual sternness but a sort of dreamy, kind expression, it struck her that Ty was indeed a handsome man.

A shiver ran down Aidy’s spine, so strong she visibly shuddered.

The unexpected knock on his door had jolted Ty awake from a doze in the armchair. He had awoken that morning for once having had a decent night’s sleep, with no nightmares having disturbed him, and no emergency call outs. In the moment before the actual reality of his life blasted back to him, in the short space of time when he was halfway between waking and sleeping, he’d experienced a momentary feeling of being glad to be alive and facing a fresh new day. But that had soon evaporated when the deafening silence of the house had stolen in on him and he was reminded of how alone he truly was. In houses all around him families were opening their presents together, preparing dinner, waiting excitedly for relatives to arrive. Even the ones who lived alone were having their neighbours dropping in to wish them good cheer, invite them to share their day perhaps. No one would be calling on him to offer any such a thing. Why would they, when he had made it very clear to all he met that he would not be receptive to any offer of friendship?

A long solitary day seemed to stretch endlessly
before him, which would only be broken should he be called out on a life-or-death emergency. Visions of past Christmases spent with people he had loved started to invade his mind. He dismissed them. Those days were gone, those people were gone, and he had moved on now into another life. But still he could not shake off his all-consuming feeling of loneliness. Best thing to help the day pass quickly was to keep himself busy. He could update his accounts. Not a job he liked doing but one that needed to be focused on so no mistakes were made, leaving little room for other thoughts.

He made his way into the surgery, sat down behind the desk and pulled open the bottom drawer where the accounts book was stored. The bottle of whisky that lay hidden beneath it met his eyes like a beacon. A drink seemed a good idea to him then. Might help lighten the melancholy mood he was in. It was Christmas Day after all and a tot of good cheer at this time of the day was acceptable. Taking the bottle out of the drawer and collecting a glass from the kitchen, he settled himself into his armchair by the blazing fire. One small draught led to another, and an hour later the bottle was half-empty. Ty, in a mellow, couldn’t-care-less state of mind, drifted off into a drink-induced doze.

The loud rap on the front door had roused him from slumber. As the good-mannered man he was,
he automatically rose to answer it, though he still felt dazed and his mouth was unaccountably dry.

His eyes immediately took in a very attractive face looking up at him. It belonged to a shapely woman, whose attire might be on the shabby side but still looked very becoming on her. But why she was standing on his doorstep, holding a covered plate in her hand and wearing a paper hat on her head, he couldn’t understand.

Aidy meanwhile was wondering what on earth was wrong with her boss. He certainly wasn’t himself. Why was he looking at her as if he’d never seen her before? And she knew a man with an admiring glint in his eyes when she saw one. Then she caught the whiff of alcohol wafting from him and realised he was looking at her through drink-glazed eyes so more than likely wasn’t recognising her.