Читать книгу Helping Hands - S. C. Loader - Страница 8

Chapter 2

Tuesday followed Monday as it usually did, but unusually Paul woke up not to the sound of a post office delivery van testing its brakes beneath his bedroom window, but to the distant chimes of the church bells. Despite having a deep appreciation of the comfort provided by his bed, the brightness of yet another glorious sunny summer day drew him out of it. The cool morning air had displaced the sultriness of the previous night and thankfully had also thinned out the overbearing odour of fresh paint. En route to the kitchen, he checked his previous afternoon’s work, without exception it was all dry, although he would wait for it to fully harden before moving all the furniture back where it belonged. Fortified by a coffee and a slice of toast he proceeded to make himself presentable to the world. Shaved and showered he stood before his badly depleted wardrobe, a situation that he hoped would soon be rectified by his newly appointed laundrywoman. While he waited for inspiration he caught sight of himself in the full-length mirror of the wardrobe and Liz’s comical prediction of the local girls queuing up at his door sprung to mind. He had seen the local young men, all were from solid, good old fashioned farming stock and if the need ever arose most of them were capable of carrying the tractors they drove about the village on their shoulders. They made his seventy-five kilo, one metre seventy-four frame look like an underfeed dwarf by comparison. Looking at himself in the mirror he could find no reason why he would warrant a second glance from any woman, let alone a pretty local one. The only two advantages he had over a lot of men his own age were a full head of hair and a stomach that did not block the view of his feet. Unfortunately, these were of little value against younger, stronger and taller competition that could not only see the shoes they wore, but who also still had a use for a comb as well.

His final choice of clothing, a brown checked flannel shirt, light brown jeans and a plain light brown jacket had little to do with inspiration, but to a desire for smartness versus availability. Still, as his mother so often advised him, ‘Always make the best of yourself, you never know when you might meet the girl of your dreams!’ As he pulled the door to the flat closed, he wondered if the girl of his dreams would even be out of her bed at five-thirty in the morning? He seriously doubted it.

During the half an hour stroll around the deserted streets and lanes of the village, he had in his head at least, rearranged all the furniture in the flat to make the best use of the limited space available. Prioritised the list of all the things he wanted to replace and had planned his vengeance upon the pizza delivery driver who delivered the mail to the post office every morning.

Rounding a corner he heard the six o’clock chimes of the church bells and shortly thereafter the forty-six steps up to the church came into view. His eyes followed them up to the top and came to rest upon the pale yellow façade. Thoughts of Karen and of the half promise he had made to Elsie sprung to mind.

He wondered at what time the church doors were unlocked, if he knew that then it might act as a guide as to when Karen might turn up, presuming of course that she was going to turn up that day. Unfortunately, the “Parish Information Board” at the bottom of the steps failed to inform and hopeful that the church would be a more lucrative source of information Paul started the long ascent.

With a few steps still to overcome the open outer doors of the church came into view, a sight he had not expected but then, he was far more used to the ways of the city.

When the outer doors, the notice board, nor the literature stand in the lobby revealed the information he sought, he tried the inner doors to see if they were still locked. Surprisingly, they were not.

The inside of the church was empty, save for one person sitting in the front right-hand corner, in the second row of pews, Karen.

Paul spent some considerable time in her company during which her total commitment to conversation, despite a few early attempts at inaugurating one, amounted to a single greeting of “hello”. Surrendering his desire for conversation and avoiding anything personal he settled for posing a few questions to try and break the ice. All were answered unenthusiastically with either a nod or a shake of the head, or more often than not, shrugged shoulders. This included even those questions that under normal circumstances would require more than a one-word answer.

Eventually, he gave up and just sat quietly with her, although not next to her. Earlier in the morning, she had clearly demonstrated her reluctance to be sat next to by backing away when he came too close. Which was probably just as well as far as he was concerned, as excepting the coat she had wrapped around her shoulders, she wore exactly the same clothes as she had the day before. Indicating that either her mother had failed to give her the same advice as his mother had given him, or that she had already found the man of her dreams. If her wedding ring was a clue, then the latter seemed more likely, but unless she did something about herself and very quickly, then the man of her dreams would very soon be the man of someone else’s dreams.

After two hours the need to go to the toilet became urgent and Paul used this as an excuse to leave. An excuse Karen did not question and a goodbye she did not fully reciprocate.

On Wednesday morning the pizza delivery driver attempted to break the world record for the longest skid marks, but at five-thirty in the morning Paul was unwilling to leave his bed just to verify whether or not he had been successful. Instead, he cast an admiring eye around his new, freshly decorated bedroom. For the first time since moving in, neither his bedroom nor the rest of the flat resembled a sale in a furniture shop. Every piece of furniture was back in its place and all the fittings had been returned to the walls. Of particular delight, the pastel pink paintwork and the red rose-patterned wallpaper that had adorned every single wall right throughout the entire flat were now just spine shuddering memories. To add to that feeling of contentedness, the previous afternoon his wardrobe had taken its first delivery of freshly laundered clothes. Vera, the cheerful chatterbox who did his laundry was a master of her unsung craft, not only was she quick and efficient, but she could also press a crease sharp enough to cut paper with. She had also drawn his attention to something he had failed to notice about Liz, Eddy, Tom and Elsie. Like Vera, they all had a distinctive local accent, but unlike Vera and just about everybody else he met in the street, only Tom used the local dialect. Thinking about this oddity of the four heart-warming characters inevitably drew his gaze out through the bedroom window and up to the church basking in the early morning sunshine, where one far less heart-warming character was probably already sat inside. Should he waste his time again as he had the previous day, just to pacify a sense of obligation for a promise he had given, or do as he had planned?

The latter, a shopping trip for all those things he wanted for the flat had a far greater appeal. Although instead of going into the city, a mere ten kilometres away, he was going to support the local economy by spending his money in a town equally distant, but in the opposite direction. This was not intended to be just a shopping trip, but also an opportunity to gain valuable insight into the prices and the availability of local properties further afield. His flat was after all, despite the hard work, just a temporary stopover.

Obligation, not enthusiasm had drawn him to the church doors and it was the same combination that pushed them open and drew him inside a church devoid of all but one worshipper, Karen.

Unhappily the previous morning repeated itself, not only was she still wearing the same clothes, but it was also another morning devoid of both conversation and answers. The only distinction between the two mornings was that today she was without her coat, the shadows beneath her eyes were even darker and he had been permitted to sit a little closer to her, leaving only enough room for two people to sit between them instead of three. This was however not enough of an incentive to remain in her company and after two hours he left Karen as he had found her, sat alone in the second row of pews.

*

At six-thirty on Thursday morning Paul stood before the church doors once again, heavily regretting the promise he had made and cursing the very principles that obliged him to keep it. His patience was wearing thin with Karen; not because of the amount of time he spent with her, but because he was spending that time sitting like a tailor’s dummy. His skills as a conversationalist would probably only rate as fair, but as a listener, he rated himself as good. Karen it seemed was neither interested in his skills, nor allowing her own their freedom, but without that freedom, he had no idea whether she welcomed his company or not, of the two he was beginning to believe the latter to be far nearer the truth than the former. Another victim of her imprisoned skills was his fast waning sympathy towards her, he wanted to help her, but had no way of knowing how or even if she wanted that help.

As he pushed the door open he had already begun to formulate an apology to Elsie for withdrawing from his promise. Karen was there as he had expected her to be, although not where he had become accustomed to seeing her.

She was knelt directly in front of the altar, but given his belief this was not a place he felt entirely comfortable about, so rather than joining her he headed for the closest pew to her. Halfway down the aisle, he abandoned his reticence, not only because she looked a pitiful heartrending sight sitting fully on her ankles with her head bowed, but also because her hesitant sobbing pulled heavily at his conscience. Nearing her, he could see she was shaking and both her trembling hands were pressed palm to palm and held under her tear-soaked chin. The two large wet patches on her jeans gave evidence of the length of time this particular emotion had been in control. Kneeling quietly down beside her he half expected her to move away as she had the previous days when he came too close, but she didn’t. As she was without her coat, Paul surrendered his jacket and placed it over her back and shoulders to help ward off the cool morning air. This was to his mind a very poor substitute for the physical comfort she needed and for what he really wanted to do, take her fully in his arms, but he felt the latter would be an unwelcome gesture and to ask beforehand would appear somewhat tactless in her present state.

After a few minutes, her head turned slightly towards him and a pair of tear-filled eyes rose up to meet his, pleading for something. What that something was she didn’t say and he could only guess. Sidling up, he placed an arm around her and with his free hand drew her head against his shoulder. Leaving his hand on the side of her face he lowered his head until it rested gently against hers. This was a position of comfort and intimacy that Karen made no objection to, but one he feared if her husband found them in would probably see her end up in a divorce court and himself in hospital.

Karen’s hands slowly lowered into her lap and as they fell apart both the palms of her hands bore the deep indentations from what had been sandwiched between them, her wedding ring.

Paul’s thoughts immediately turned on the husband. What had he done to drive his wife into removing such a sacred piece of jewellery? Adultery? Drink? Cruelty?

And if the blame did not lie with him, then where was he? This was his wife and he had an absolute duty to love and care for her, no matter what the circumstances. Surely he could not be so blind as to overlook the fact that she was wasting away before his very eyes?

A violent shiver caused the ring to slip between Karen’s hands, it rolled down her legs onto the floor and then in an arc ending up in front of Paul’s knees. He picked it up and placed it back into the palm of her hand and as he curled her fingers over it he offered some obvious advice and a snippet of his grandmother’s philosophy, ‘Don’t lose this! It’s filled with enough love to last more than a lifetime!’

Her big brown eyes rose to meet his, stayed for a while and then returned to the hand holding the ring.

At eight-thirty Paul was back in his flat happily, if not joyfully, reflecting over the events of that morning.

Despite the lack of conversation, at least one of the more pressing questions from his rapidly growing tally had been answered. Karen did want his help, even if it was only in the form of a shoulder to cry on and although comforting another man’s wife left him with a guilty conscience, he would readily do it again.

Soon after she had dropped her ring the appeal of kneeling on a cold floor lost favour. Having led her by the hand to the pews, not only did she willingly sit down beside him, but she also snuggled up against him as tightly as she could and before the bells had tolled out the seventh hour, she had honoured him by doing something no other woman had ever done before, she fell fast asleep in his arms. This simple endearing act was as unexpected as the resulting overwhelming sense of protectionism he now felt towards her. Sadly the eight o’clock chimes ended his pleasure and Karen’s dreams. Unusually it was Karen who had to leave first and not only did he receive a “Goodbye” and a “Thank you,” but also a kiss to the cheek and a few precious moments of lingering eye contact as well.

By mid-afternoon, all the purchases of the previous day hung where they belonged. The forty watt light bulbs hiding behind pastel pink coloured lampshades were now history, in the places where they had once lurked were various sets of modern spotlighting, each with more candle power than the floodlights that lit the church at night. Damaged or discoloured light switches and wall sockets had been replaced, as had the non-functioning doorbell. Three new pictures now adorned the walls, in the lounge a framed and fading print of two cats made way for two large unframed, highly colourful abstract prints and in the bedroom one framed original pen and ink portrait study. Unfortunately, the latter carried a rather high asking price that he was unable to bargain down, but because of the subject’s resemblance to someone he knew, it was sold the moment he set eyes upon it. Halfway through a well-deserved cup of coffee, someone knocked at the door. It was an angel bearing gifts, or more precisely Vera with what appeared to be the rest of his outstanding laundry.

‘You take the ’angers young man, I’ll carry the rest, don’t want to get them all messed up do we now?’

Paul led the way up the stairs, followed by Vera happily humming away to herself.

In the bedroom, Paul started loading all the shirts back into the wardroom while Vera separated the rest of his clothing into different piles on the bed.

‘Vera! You don’t have to iron socks and underpants!’

‘While the iron’s ’ot, might as well make use of it ’adn’t I?’

While he continued to refresh the wardrobe Vera looked admiringly around the bedroom, ‘Been ’ard at work I see!’

‘It needed it!’

‘Making yourself a nice little ’ome ere, just one thing missing now!’

‘Missing? What’s that then?’

Vera patted his bed, ‘It ain't no good having a double bed without someone to share it with is there?’

Paul looked at the bed thoughtfully but didn’t reply.

‘You’ll not be young forever! Don’t wait too long to fill it.’

‘I’ll try not to.’ Then patting the bed and bearing a mischievous grin added, ‘Meanwhile, if you know somebody who fancies someone a little younger, just let me know.’

Vera blushed beetroot red.

He left Vera humming away to herself and admiring his new picture while he went to find his wallet.

Vera accepted payment blindly, the picture obviously had a greater appeal to her than money at that point in time, ‘Looks a bit like one of me girls that does!’

‘Does it? Why’s that?’

‘The ’air, me girl’s got long curly ’air like that! And the eyes, just like ’ers too.’

The comment about the eyes immediately drew his interest, for it was precisely these that had sold the picture to him.

Singing to herself, Vera jaunted along the hallway and down the stairs to the front door.

‘You seem in an especially cheerful mood today Vera, what’s up, won the lottery or something?’

‘As good as, although she ain't said nothing, I think me girl’s got a new man.’

‘What makes you think that, especially if she hasn’t said anything?’

Vera looked surprised at the question, ‘Mothers know these things!’ she said rather matter-of-factly. ‘They don’t ’ave to be told!’

She picked up the bag containing more of his laundry and made her way out of the door, as Paul was about to close it behind her something occurred to him.

‘Vera! Your daughter in the picture, may I ask her name?’

‘Carina. Why?’

‘Oh! Just interested that’s all.’

As he closed the door another thought crossed his mind, ‘Vera!’

‘I’ll not get this lot laundered like this young man!’

‘One last question, how old is Carina?’

‘Thirty-three! Why so many questions, are you ’er new man by chance?’

‘No, it’s not me and I’m sorry, just feeling inquisitive today, that’s all.’

‘Shame it ain't you! A nice young man like yourself would do her some good.’

**

An overjoyed Elsie collided with Paul halfway down the aisle on Friday morning, the ensuing bear hug of an embrace signalled she was very pleased to see him. When she started to cover his cheeks in kisses he began to fear that Vera had spread the word he was looking for someone older to fill his bed. Elsie graciously allowed his rib cage to return to its normal shape, ‘I don’t know whether you’re an angel or a saint young man, but either way, you’re heaven sent!’

Shell shocked from such an exuberant welcome, he failed to notice Tom’s approach. Tom greeted him with such a resounding slap on the back that only Elsie’s sturdiness and the softness of her large bosom prevented further injury.

‘Well done lad! No idea what you’ve been up to, but damn good job anyways!’

‘Thank you, Tom, but I’ve not been up to anything!’’

‘Oh listen to him! He’s so modest!’ exclaimed Elsie drawing him into yet another inescapable bone-crushing hug.

‘Let the poor lad breathe, Elsie! Won’t be much good to ’er in ’ospital will he?’

Released from confinement, Paul had a moment in which to appreciate his continuing good health before Elsie dragged him by the hand towards the front pews. Resistance was pointless, for despite being half a head shorter than himself, she had the strength of someone twice her size and two-thirds her age.

Hurriedly Elsie ushered him into the pew, ‘You sit here next to Karen and I’ll just let Liz know you’re both here, back in a mo!’

As Paul went to sit Eddy stretched over the pew and took his hand, a double-handed, highly animated joint wrenching handshake followed, ‘I’m proud of you son, full marks! Excellent!’

Eddy was still attempting to detach his arm when an excited Liz came hurrying down between the pews, ‘Paul!’ Before he knew what was happening her arms had enveloped him and his cheeks soon sported two new trophies, although he still had absolutely no idea why.

Liz took his face in her hands as tears threatened in her eyes, ‘Thank you! Thank you from all of us!’

‘’Ere lad, the brunettes waiting!’ said Tom as he placed Paul’s mug on the back of the pew.

‘And the other one’s waiting patiently behind you,’ added Liz with a huge smile.

Released, Paul took the opportunity to quickly sit down before anyone else chose to congratulate him. As he sat he felt Karen’s hand under his and turned to apologise and finally greet her, the latter of which he had been prevented from doing since his arrival. His jaw fell open in spellbound disbelief.

The change in Karen from the previous day was not enormous, but it was striking. For the first time in four days, she had changed her clothes and although the white shirt and the light brown jumper she now wore still remained far too big for her, their colours suited her far better. To add to the cheeriness of her new colours, a beautiful coy smile now graced her face and her enchanting eyes had gained some brightness. And most remarkably, the dull, lank, un-brushed hair had overnight transformed into long, loosely curled, shimmering strands of dark brown silk.

Paul sat totally mesmerised.

‘What you been up to lad?’ asked Tom’s distant voice. ‘Don’t get smiles like that unless you been up to something!’

Elsie’s nudge woke Paul from his trance, ‘Ignore him!’

‘Who? What! Sorry!’ flustered Paul.

‘We were just saying son, that you would make a very good fly trap for a greenhouse!’

‘Who would? Why?’

Liz leant over the back of the pew, ‘Paul, for the last minute or so you’ve been sitting with your mouth wide open.’

‘I’m sorry, I…I…’

Elsie’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, ‘Young man, our pretty little princess will not disappear if you take your eyes off of her.’

Paul blushed and so did Karen, ‘I hope not,’ he replied under his breath.

Today’s triangular seating arrangement felt far more congenial to Paul than Monday’s had. To his right sat Karen with Liz in front of her, to his left Elsie and opposite her sat Eddy. Tom sat between Eddy and Liz, although not on the same pew as they did, but on a chair set slightly in front of it. Surprisingly, despite their apparent affection for one another neither Tom nor Elsie seemed to mind being separated from one another.

‘We were beginning to think you weren’t coming this morning, son.’

‘Sorry about that, I was up late last night trying to set up my computer, the wiring on those things is a nightmare!’

‘Very nearly missed your brunette lad!’

Paul glanced sideways at Karen, ‘I’m very glad I didn’t Tom, very glad!’

‘Then you’d better get her down while she’s ’ot lad!’

A comment that raised four grins and Karen’s blushes once again.

‘What time do you all get here in the mornings?’

‘Early enough to get done what we want to do!’ stated Liz. ‘Staying in bed is for you youngsters, us oldies prefer to get up and get on with things bright and early.’

‘Oh I don’t know,’ said Tom raising his eyebrows, ‘can think of a couple of good reasons to stay in me bed!’

Elsie attempted to cover her inordinately large bosom with her arms, ‘Well you can stop thinking about them reasons!’

‘What time do you finish? If this is a tea break then it must be quite late!’

‘We call it a tea break son, but it’s really more of a reward to ourselves for the work we’ve done and once we’ve had our second cup, we’re off home’

‘Lots to do young man and only a little time to do it in!’ added Elsie.

Tom raised his eyebrows suggestively.

‘Liz! You’re closer! Clip the dirty old man around the ear for me!’

Tom stood up quickly, ‘Who’s for another cup then?’

‘Eddy, do you all live in the village?’ enquired Paul.

‘We did once upon a time son, but not nowadays.’

‘Where do you live now?’

‘We come from Hampton.’

‘Where’s that?’

‘On the other side of the hill.’

‘Sorry, I don’t know the area beyond the village that well yet. Maybe I’ll visit you all one day when I pass your way.’

‘No need to worry about us young man,’ said Elsie. ‘We’ve lots of company.’ Then as Tom and Liz returned with the refilled cups chatting loudly between themselves Elsie leant over and whispered, ‘Spend your time with someone who needs you, as much of it as you can.’

‘Elsie,’ he whispered in return, ‘she doesn’t need me, she wears a wedding ring!’

Eddy leant over the pew and whispered, ‘That she is son, but we’re all counting on you to look after our pretty little princess! Please don’t let us down.’

‘But she’s…’

‘One brunette for the lad!’ interrupted Tom as he placed Paul’s mug down.

‘And a gentleman for our princess!’ added Liz, placing Karen’s cup and saucer down.

Paul was unsure whether Liz’s “gentleman” was a reference to himself or the cup, if the former, he felt she would soon be of a different opinion if he followed Elsie and Eddy’s advice.

At the end of their second tea, Elsie ushered Paul and Karen away, ‘We’ve just got some tidying up to do then we’re off, you two go and enjoy yourselves!’

With the goodbyes and handshakes behind them, Paul joined Karen as she walked down the lane that ran alongside the cemetery.

‘Which way do you have to go?’ he asked as they reached the end.

Disappointingly Karen pointed in the opposite direction to his.

‘I can walk with you a bit further if you like?’

She shook her head, ‘Thank you, but I’ve things to do.’

Karen’s first full sentence caught him totally by surprise, not only did she have a voice, but also a pleasingly soft, dialect free one as well.

‘I can’t come to the church tomorrow,’ he announced apologetically. ‘Some business in the city, but if you would like to, providing you’re free to do so that is, we could meet up Sunday. Perhaps we could go for a drive, or a walk or something?’

She nodded, ‘I would like that.’

Paul felt quite taken aback, he never expected a positive answer.

‘When shall I pick you up?’ then remembering her ring quickly suggested. ‘Or would you prefer we met somewhere else? I live over the post office, so I’m quite central.’

‘Can I call on you?’

‘Sure! What time?’

‘Morning.’

Given her circumstances, Paul understood her difficulty in giving a precise time.

‘I’ll be waiting!’

With a smile and a kiss on the cheek, she left him.

For the brief period in which Karen remained insight and for a short while afterwards, Paul stood evaluating the moral implication of what he had just done until an ominous growling at his feet broke his thoughts. Looking down, he recognised the small solidly built white dog as the one he had seen on the steps leading up to the church. Its probable owner, an old man with a long grey tangled beard and even longer grey unkempt hair approached but paid the dog no heed.

Paul’s bright and cheery; ‘Good morning!’ reflected the mood that Karen’s acceptance had bestowed upon him.

The old man lifted his hat and walked on by, moments later the noise at Paul’s feet abated and the dog trotted off after him.