The Woman Who Kept Everything Read online

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  What a joy it was, waking up to the sound of the sea swishing along the beach, gulls screeching, and laughing holidaymakers starting to enjoy their day! They had a partial view of the sea from their bedroom window. Gloria stood for a moment, wrapped in a clean white towel, after her second bath in sixteen hours, peering out at the sight that befell her.

  ‘Ah, will you look at that, Tils. Look! There’s a big boat on the horizon. Makes me feel like a ruddy teenager again, like when we used to go to Yarmouth. I’m so happy.’

  It was also a wonderful treat, later, to be eating the sumptuous fry-up of eggs, bacon, sausage, fried tomato and diced potatoes for breakfast, with lashings of tea and toast.

  ‘I feel like a ruddy king, Glor. Don’t think I’ve ever stayed in a hotel by the sea before. Tryin’ to think where me and Jocelyn used to go.’

  ‘Think you went caravanning a couple of times before you split up, didn’t you? Somewhere near Hunstanton, wasn’t it? You ever been abroad?’ Gloria said, her mouth full of egg and toast.

  Tilsbury slurped his tea. ‘No, my love. You?’

  ‘Just to Benidorm with Arthur for that overdue honeymoon. Well, we’d got those passports, you know. Bit of a just-in-case event. So we used ’em. Wasn’t really Arthur’s scene. But we had a full week of glorious sunshine and lots of cheap red wine. Never been anywhere else though. Took Cleggy to Bournemouth once but the rest of the time, you know, just the usual. Around here really.’

  Tilsbury put his knife and fork together and sighed and stretched. ‘Well that was lovely, Glor. So what do we do now? Shall we take a stroll? Take in the sea air before we surrender our lives to the crap we have to put up with back home?’

  Gloria nodded, surprising him. ‘There’s no rush, is there? We’ll be back there soon enough. But I must say I’ve really, completely enjoyed this wonderful trip away. And thanks for starting the ball rolling by arranging that lovely afternoon tea for me, ducks. I’ll never forget these last twenty-four hours.’

  Chapter 13

  Gloria and Tilsbury walked along the seafront, arm in arm, noticing the little waves slapping the beach and kiddies paddling or patting buckets of sandcastles. A young couple strolled past with huge dripping ice creams. It was another lovely sunny day with a light breeze rolling in off the sea. Gloria breathed in the salty sea air.

  ‘Actually, Tils, I think I might just go into the actual town and get myself some new clothes, while I’m here. There’s nothing at Val’s apart from another weird dress Green’s Nursin’ Home gave me. Well something needs doing and Val says she’s not had time to sort things out for me. She’s got a demanding job as we all know. So I might as well. Do you want to come with me or do you want to ring Joss or Marv now?’

  Tilsbury shrugged. ‘Whatever, my love. But it’s so nice here I think I’d quite like havin’ a mooch around the shops, with you, Glor. Only been here once before – no I tell a lie. I came once with Marvin for a job interview, back in the day. And I came that other time with the lads for a boozy day out after I gave up work on account of me injury. D’you remember? Got into trouble for fightin’ after old Jonesy bumped into that guy at the bar. Weren’t his fault but all hell broke loose!’

  ‘Uh-huh. Didn’t you all end up in clink for the night?’

  ‘We did, my love. It was an experience and a half that was!’ Tilsbury chuckled.

  Gloria couldn’t remember the last time she’d been shopping with anyone. Living in her house under the strain of her hoarding problems had made her think she was incapable of living what she believed to be a normal life. She’d even considered herself old, past it and, yes, ready for the nearest old people’s home. But actually, she realised, she wasn’t any of those things. Her previous circumstances had seemed impossible to break out of. But the kind nursing home staff had opened her eyes and, now, she had no intention of closing herself down like that, ever again.

  So she and Tilsbury went shopping. Tilsbury was happy enough to sit, whistling, outside the shops whilst she went in and bought three new dresses, underwear, a nice new jacket, a couple of scarves and a new pair of shoes that were comfy to walk in. She even bought a tiny, lightweight suitcase to put them all in; all her new possessions.

  ‘There! I feel like I’m properly on my holidays now!’ Gloria grinned. ‘And these,’ she said handing Tilsbury a plastic bag with a trouser leg hanging out, ‘are for you!’

  He jumped in surprise. ‘W-what do you mean, Glor?’

  ‘Well they’re not actually new clothes, Tils. I got them from that charity shop over there. Clegg would kill me if he saw I’d been buyin’ you clothes on his credit card but he’ll never know what I bought in there. No, don’t try to argue. I know what you wear is the extent of your wardrobe and I’m not tryin’ to control you or anything. I’ve only bought you one new change of clothes, like you had before. You’re about the size of my Arthur before he put all that weight on. So I hope they fit. But you are very stinky, Tils. I never really noticed it before when we were in my house. But people keep staring at you.’

  Tilsbury opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

  ‘So we’ll go back to the hotel now and try all this lot on properly, have a cuppa, check out and then ring people. Okay?’

  Tilsbury nodded, dumbly.

  No one had bought him clothes of any kind before. It was a sweet thing for her to do. But he could see Gloria was on a mission, with a new-found confidence to boot and so, no, he had no intention of arguing with her.

  * * *

  Their new purchases fitted a treat but Tilsbury’s new jumper was a teeny bit big on him. He said he loved it anyway and put it round his shoulders. So Gloria bundled all their old stuff into the plastic bags. She could see it wouldn’t all fit in the tiny room bin and wondered if she could find a new purpose for it back home.

  Ah, but she’d promised Green’s Nursing Home she wouldn’t keep stuff any more! Yes, that’s what she’d actually agreed with them. So what to do? Hmm. Well, perhaps she could just leave it by the bin? Then maybe someone else could decide what to do with all the bags? Yes, that’s what she’d do.

  So Gloria carefully arranged the plastic bags full of old clothes around the bin in the bedroom. She could see she was starting to get used to the idea of getting rid of things she didn’t need now. It’s what other people did all the time and she was chuffed she was doing it herself, now, too.

  She walked downstairs to reception, refusing to worry about the old clothes any more and paid for their stay. Then they went into the bar and ordered tea.

  ‘Do you mind if I have a small lager, though, Glor?’

  She acquiesced.

  This mini holiday was a one-off anyway and she already knew Tilsbury’s old problems with alcohol meant that, even now, he still sometimes fought with drinking the way she’d fought against people calling her a hoarder over the years. They were neither of them perfect and that sat okay with her.

  ‘So that’ll be two small lagers instead of the tea,’ she said to the barman, with a wink.

  Chapter 14

  After discussing with Tilsbury how they were going to get home, he said he’d sort it and went to speak to the barman. When he returned he told Gloria that he’d rung Jocelyn and she’d promised to come and fetch them both. But she’d only come and fetch them providing someone was prepared to treat her to lunch, due to the ‘accident’ with her scooter and helmet, even though she hadn’t used either of them in years.

  Gloria chuckled and said she would be happy to buy Jocelyn lunch and Tilsbury said he owed both ladies ‘big time’.

  They had fish and chips in a little café off the High Street.

  ‘Cor, it’s marvellous this is, Glor. Haven’t been treated to a meal out in a long time,’ said Jocelyn, with a mouthful of chips. ‘Plus it’s nice to get away for a while, but I’m makin’ apologies for my little clapped-out Mini before we leave ’cos it ain’t as fit as it used to be. Not much room in it either.’


  ‘Well thanks for offering me a lift, too, Joss. Didn’t want to ring Val or Clegg and get an earful ’cos I know that’s what I’ll get eventually. Families, eh?’

  Jocelyn nodded solemnly, pushing her mopped-up plate to one side. ‘Gotta tell you this, though, Glor. Bumped into that Mrs Daly at the shops. She’s Clegg’s neighbour and couldn’t wait to tell me Clegg was heard yelling last night when you dint come back. He rang me, you know – Cleggy – and asked where Tilsbury was!’

  ‘I left him a ruddy note, I did.’

  ‘Yeah but there was no time on it and you didn’t say who you’d gone off with. S’pose it had them worried. Anyway, Val was heard shouting back that she’d got enough on her plate, what with work.’

  ‘Yeah, semi-detached walls can be a bit thin. And that Daly woman is a nosy old stick. Oh well. I’ll ring ’em before we leave and tell ’em I’m on my way back.’

  Yes, Gloria knew her mini holiday was definitely over. And reality – she was sure – was going to be a very LARGE flea in her ear, later that day!

  As soon as she picked up the phone to speak to her son, she could tell Clegg was raging.

  ‘Did you think it’d be helpful to not let us know your full intentions, Mother? They only just let you out of Green’s. They could’ve kept you in longer and they would’ve done if we’d’ve thought you might be a danger to yourself. Val is furious. It’s like you’re taking the piss or laughing at us –’

  ‘I’m not laughing at –’

  ‘Or do we need to keep you under lock and key for your own good? Eh? Answer me that one.’

  ‘I’m not a –’

  ‘Well, I think it’s high time you thought long and hard about the worry you’ve just put us through –’

  ‘But I haven’t –’

  ‘And let me tell you if ANYTHIN’ like this ever happens again, you’ll be out of our house and into the nearest old people’s home, quick march. There’s no bloody point us giving you a roof over your head if you’re going to throw it back in our face. DO YOU –’

  ‘But I won’t –’

  ‘– UNDERSTAND?’

  There was a tense pause.

  Gloria knew anything else she might try and say would be pointless. Clegg would refuse to hear her. He always tried to talk over her, as if her opinion didn’t matter. He simply treated her as if she were a silly little girl. And Gloria had no idea why he’d been treating her like this, since Arthur died. It was quite upsetting. She always felt as though she had to justify everything she did to him. She was supposed to be the mother, for God’s sake!

  So she dropped the receiver into the cradle and cut Clegg off with a click, without answering him.

  A tear pricked her eye.

  Well!

  There was no way she could go ‘home’ now.

  Chapter 15

  Jocelyn dropped Gloria off at the station for her mid-afternoon train to Skegness. The hotel in Sheringham had kindly booked it for her. She’d have to make one change but she would simply ask someone at the train station how to do that. She’d loved being taken on trains, by her adopted mum, as a girl. She loved seeing all those possibilities of different places to live in, as well as those meandering rivers and quaint towns, whizzing past in the blink of an eye that she’d never get to visit.

  She was set to wave a vigorous goodbye to Jocelyn and Tilsbury but then tottered back to their car, put her tiny case down and reached in to hug and kiss them both on the cheek, through the car windows, much to their surprise.

  ‘We’ve been friends since forever, ducks, despite a few ups and downs but I still love youse both.’

  Then she turned and ambled away before either of them noticed the tears trickling down her face. She didn’t really know what she was doing or what she had to prove and whether it was to herself or everyone else. But there was no way she was returning to Clegg and Val at this moment in time. She was going to take some much-needed time out to think about things. And Mabel would know what she needed to do.

  She’d recovered by the time she came to ask which platform she should be on for the first leg of her journey and settled down to read a newspaper she’d bought. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually bought a recent paper. She smiled at the thought of how she used to read some of those old newspapers she’d kept at home, from time to time, just to remind her of the good old days. But they’d all gone along with everything else, to the dump now, she realised ruefully.

  She’d also taken some money out of the hole-in-the-wall, just in case Clegg decided to put a stop on her access to funds. Although, until he got the bill from the credit card company, he wouldn’t know how much she was spending. At least she’d been of sound enough mind to buy a return ticket so she could get home again, whatever else she chose to do next.

  She thought about her friend, Mabel, who’d been in her and Jocelyn’s clique at school but whom she hadn’t seen in over thirty-five years, despite cards and photos they usually exchanged each Christmas.

  Gloria could hardly believe it had been that long since Gerard, Mabel’s husband, had moved them and their three children to Lincolnshire when he’d lost his job, in manufacturing. Luckily a cousin who lived there had got him a job where Gerard helped manage a vegetable and cereal farm of some seven hundred acres, outside Skegness, complete with a small cottage; although, of course, he must’ve retired long ago by now.

  Initially, Mabel had worked as a seamstress but her arthritis eventually put paid to that, and she’d stayed home with the children and kept house. It didn’t seem she’d had much of a life but then Gloria realised her own life hadn’t been much of anything until this recent escapade.

  So Gloria was nervously excited at the prospect of seeing her only other friend, after such a long time. And what an adventure, going there by herself! She hadn’t been on a train since the Nineties with Arthur. Yet another thing, Gloria thought sadly, that she hadn’t done for years.

  The letter she’d written before leaving and given to Jocelyn, to stick through Clegg’s letterbox, had been devised by the three of them. It was amazing how much time it had taken to write that one short letter. But she’d wanted the wording to create just the right impression. It was time she put her foot down on her son’s hurtful antics.

  My dear Clegg and Val,

  I can’t stand all the arguing that’s been going on for years. And why? What did I ever do to make you treat me the way you have?

  Anyway I’m going away for a while to think about things. Do not come after me and do not hound my dearest friends Jocelyn and Tilsbury. I will come back when I’m ready and not at your insistence.

  And, Clegg, DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT SELLING MY HOUSE UNTIL I GET BACK!!!

  It is NOT yours to sell.

  Your loving mother, Gloria xxx

  Gloria giggled when she imagined their incensed indignation as they read those cutting words …

  Chapter 16

  Clouds, threatening rain, were lying low and a nippy wind was blowing when Gloria stepped from the train onto the platform at Skegness railway station, later that day. She felt dog-tired but it was that time of day when day-trippers were leaving so it was extremely busy and chaotic with children running around, people shouting and car horns blaring.

  She ambled out of the station to look for a taxi. There was a rank right outside but lots of people queuing. The last thing Gloria felt like doing was to queue for hours on end when all she wanted to do was either sit down or go to bed. Plus she couldn’t stand on her feet for too long these days. Old age, she thought, wearily. But she was hungry too.

  So Gloria decided to take a stroll across the road, to look for somewhere to get a bite to eat first. Then she’d go back and see if the taxi queue had diminished.

  She walked under the curly ‘Welcome to Skegness’ sign, past a statue of a sort of cartoon character called the Jolly Fisherman, dragging a suitcase not unlike hers! She found a little café, halfway up Skegness High Street and went in and ordered scram
bled eggs and cheese on toast and a cup of tea. Ordinary, plain food was such a joy after years of semi-warm potato soup.

  She’d never been to Skeggy before and asked someone where the sea was.

  ‘Right at the top of this road, love. Not far,’ answered the young woman.

  Well, she thought she might just go look at the sea because she was only going to be here for one night before going to find Mabel. The friendly staff at the hotel in Sheringham had also helped her book a one-night stay in a Skegness hotel, too.

  The two post-Victoriana towns she’d visited in the last two days had a slightly tired feel about them. Just like me, she thought, at this moment in time. But, nevertheless, they clearly appealed to large numbers of people, judging by the masses of holidaymakers in both.

  She passed cheap gift shops, an outdoor market and rock shops with rock shaped liked pebbles or, worse, dog poo! She chuckled, supposing that kids might like all that. And she recognised the proud clock tower from postcards Mabel had sent her, as well as the new-looking aquarium. Gloria took her time, looking around as she walked. Her new shoes didn’t chafe, thankfully. She noted that what that young lady classed as ‘not far’ was actually a good walk away. But Gloria was determined to see the sea.

  When she got there, panting a little, she could see that the beach went on for miles but the North Sea, here, looked a grim grey-brown colour in comparison to the sea around Sheringham. Or was that because the sun wasn’t shining on it today?

  Gloria sat on a bench and took a scarf out of her small case. It was chillier than she’d expected, despite feeling hot and bothered from her walk to the sea.

  She tied the scarf neatly around her neck and sucked in three deep breaths of fresh air. Mabel was right. It was certainly brisk and bracing here.

  A man was throwing a stick for his dog on the beach. It kept running back to him and dropping the stick at his feet, staring eagerly up at his master, panting, hoping – each time – for more, more, more. She’d got a little rescue dog when Clegg was small. A brown mongrel. They’d called it Rusty. He’d had tons of energy. Much like this one. Gloria smiled at his frolics and gazed in awe at the big white wind turbines, of the wind farms, out on the sea’s horizon.