The Stookie - By Helen Ross

"Urr you up yit?"
Patsy was awakened by the sound of her Ma screeching through from the kitchen.
"Hurry up! Ah'll miss mah turn at the Steamie."
Patsy sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. It was Thursday, and every Thursday during the summer holidays, Patsy helped her Ma with the washing. It used to be Maggie, her big sister, that went with their Ma to the Steamie. Now that her big sister had a job in Lairds and was on piece-work, Patsy had to do it.
Only the other day, Patsy’s Ma had been saying ...
"Noo that Maggie is oan piece work, she’ll want tae go oan her ain can."
Patsy was still trying to figure out what Maggie’s 'can' was and how she would 'go oan it'.

She got out of bed, took the sheets and pillowcases off for the wash, then took them into the kitchen.
"Put thame in that floowery pillowcase alang wi' the whites, and then go and get the pram oot o' the washhoose." her Ma said.
"Ah've no even goat mah claes oan yit!" complained Patsy.
"Well hurry up and get some oan then, and get oot tae that washhoose and get that pram, and ye kin jist empty that pail in the midden while ye urr it it!" retorted Patsy’s Ma, giving her a smack on the back of the head, by way of hurrying her up.
"And don't gie me nane of yir lip!"
Patsy went back into the room with her lip trembling, muttering under her breath.
"If ah don't gie ye nane lip then ah hifty gie ye some."
Patsy was feeling less than appreciated, especially since her pal Irene had broken her arm during gym at the school and had been the centre of attention for a fortnight. Didn't have to help with the washing, either!

Patsy got into her frock, the one with the ruched elastic bodice. She liked that frock, but her Ma was always saying to her ...
"Ye wid think you hid nae claes, ayewiz werring that froack aw the time. It's getting too shoart fur ye. Ah micht hifty let it doon."
Patsy shuddered. She remembered the last time her Ma had let a frock down for her. There was a big line at the bottom, and the bright new colours of the let-down bit looked daft beside the washed-out look on the rest of the frock.
"Don't know how ah canny jist get a new froack, exact the same." thought Patsy, feeling indignant at the injustice of it all.
She opened the sash window and retrieved her sandshoes from the sill. She had put them out there the night before, after she had whitened them, and they had been soaking wet. They were nice and dry now, and looked bright and white.
"Dae ye want a piece and a cup of tea?" her Ma shouted from the kitchen.
"Aye! Whit's oan the piece Ma?" said Patsy, walking in to the room, where her Ma was standing beside the blue and white kitchen cabinet. It was brand new, and her Ma's pride and joy. This meant that her Ma could keep all the food together in one place. All the neighbours had been in to see it, and all agreed that it was a lovely cabinet and they all said that they were all going to get one with their next Provvy cheque.
Ma was buttering bread. She wore a crossover flowery overall, and her hair was wrapped in a scarf, tied under her chin. She always wore a scarf when she was going out of the house. She said that it made her look tidy. Her face was clean, and clear of make-up - she only wore make-up when she was going out on a Friday or Saturday night.
Patsy put the last of the coloured washing in the other pillowcase, and mother and daughter sat down with their tea and bread.
"Whit's oan the piece, Ma?" said Patsy again, opening the bread and examining its content.
"Eat it, and y'll see, win't ye." replied her Ma, laughing.
"Och its spam! Ah don't like spam."
"Get it ate." said her Ma. "Since when dae ye no like spam?"
They both sat there, quietly eating and drinking.
Patsy's Ma looked at the clock on the mantlepiece.
"Come oan noo. Ah'm gonny be late. If ah miss this turn, ah'll no get wan tae Saturday moarning, and ah don't want tae be washing claes oan a Saturday."

Patsy ran out to the back court and into the washhouse, and got the pram that her Ma used for the steamie. It had seen better days. The pram had been a twin with two hoods, but one of the hoods had been prised off by some boys when Patsy and her pals were pushing each other up and doon the street in it. It only had one hood now, and that had a great tear in it.
When she returned to the close, the woman next door was out on her doorstep.
"Stoap stampin through the close, Patsy. It's like a herd o' elephants passin."
"Sorry, Mrs Greg, bit mah Ma’s gonny be late fur the Steamie if ah dinnae hurry up."
"So's yir Ma gaun tae the Steamie, hen? Ask her if she’ll take a perr of sheets fur me."
"Awright, Mrs Greg, ah'll ask her." said Patsy.
Patsy left the pram in the close, and went into the house.
"Mrs Greg says will ye take a perr of sheets tae the Steamie fur her." said Patsy.
"Aye, awright. Bit this is getting tae be a habit wi' hur. It wiz towels last week. Whit'll it be next week? Her man's drawers?"
Patsy and her Ma started laughing at the thought of Mrs Greg's man and his drawers.

They loaded the two pillowcases full of washing, and a small message bag with the woollens in it, onto the pram and set off for the Steamie.
It was a beautiful sunny morning, and Patsy's Ma was saying ...
"Great weather fur drying this! Ah'll hing the washing oot when we get back and it'll be dry afore tea time."
As they walked along, Patsy's Ma kept stopping to talk with folk.
"Hello Annie." they would say, and invariably stop for a blether.
Patsy wished that her Ma would hurry up. She couldn't wait to get to the Steamie. She wanted to play on the dryers, pulling them out and hanging on to the handle, then getting hurled back in again by her Ma.
Her Ma would say "Kerrfull Patsy! Urr y'll breck yir leg."
Patsy didn't care about that. It was her ambition in life to break her leg and get a stookie - a prized possession!
When Peter McGregor from Newhall Street had one, everybody signed it and drew wee pictures on it, and all the big people gave him sweeties.
Patsy loved going to the Steamie with her Ma. Besides getting to play on the dryers, all the women were nice to her. They would all sing songs, laugh, and talk to one another, and tell her how she was going to break all the boys' hearts when she grew up.
Patsy always thought "Ah don't want tae breck aw the boays herts. Their necks mibbe, bit no their herts!"
This day, when Patsy walked into the Steamie with her Ma, she had a funny feeling. Somehow, it felt different. Like somebody was watchin her. She looked around quickly, but there was nobody there.
She started to take the washing out of the pillowcase and put it in the machine. She had to stand on a box to reach into the machine.
"Don't furget the pooder." said her Ma "And leave out that white blouse. Ah'm gonny haun wash that wi the woollens."
There it was again. That feeling that she was being watched. There was nothing there watching her, but still, she could definitely sense something. She told her Ma.
"Och! That's probably that woman that goat mangled!" she said, winking at Molly, who was scrubbing her man's shirt- collar on a washboard.
"Aye!" said Molly. "Flat as a pancake, she wiz. They hidty slide her oot o' the mangle, and wi' her jist hivin h'd her herr done in that new cottage loaf style, it wiz merr like a pancake by the time they goat her oot of that mangle."
Patsy was horrified.
"Ma! Did they really get her oot o' the mangle? That's terrible!"
"Aye hen, it wiz a horrible sight. They say she still haunts this place." said her Ma, trying to stifle the laughter.
"Aye, that's right." said Molly. "She slinks aboot the place and floats ower the dryers. She is trying tae use the hoat air oot of the dryers tae blaw hersell back up again."
Patsy began looking around the Steamie for the flattened woman, but the place was full of steam, and it was hard to see anything.

"It probably is her haunting the Steamie." thought Patsy. "Ah wish ah could talk tae her, and ask her whit it felt like tae be flattened."
Patsy's Ma had threatened to 'flatten' her many times, but had never carried out her threat. Now, here was a woman who had really been flattened, and Patsy wondered what it felt like. She was lost in thought, thinking about the flattened woman, and when she looked around, there was nobody there. Her Ma and Molly had gone, and so had all the other women.
Patsy felt frightened, and shouted "Ma! where urr ye!"
No answer!
Then she heard a noise, coming from the direction of the mangle. She looked over, and there she was - the flattened woman. She was lying across a table, with her feet at the mangle. She was flat as a pancake.
Patsy gingerly tip-toed over. One step at a time, stopping to peer through the steam at the flat body lying on the table by the mangle. She didn't dare breathe, trying not to make a sound.
Just as she neared the table ...
"BOO!" shouted a voice from behind the mangle.
Patsy jumped up screaming, and slipped on the wet floor. She crashed down onto the concrete. The pain stabbed into her. Her leg! Oh, how it hurt.
Ma and Molly ran round from behind the mangle. Patsy was crying her eyes out.
"Ah think she's broke her leg." said her Ma.
Patsy stopped crying immediately, and through the tears, said "Hiv ah really broke mah leg, Ma?"
"Aye, ah think ye hiv hen."
"Thank you, Goad!" said Patsy. "Dis this mean ah'll get a stookie, Ma? That awbody kin write their names oan?"
"Aye, hen, ah think ye will."
"YAAAA Dancer!" shouted Patsy, as they took her away to the hospital for her stookie.
Sore - but very happy.

Big Shug & Wee Mamie - 1 The Accumulator

Mamie knew as soon as she saw Big Shug’s torn face, as he put his head around the door, there was something wrong.

“Where hiv you been ya big scunner? These weans urr starving and you should hiv been hame at five o’clock and its hauf eight noo.”
She said, her voice rising an octave.
“The shoaps urr aw shut noo, ahll hifty get thame something oot of Mario’s chippie.”
Shug, who by this time had stoated into the room, and plonked himself down on the fireside chair, said
“It’s biddy freezing in here, how is the fire no oan?”
Mamie replied
“Yir a big waste of space, the fire isny oan coz ah couldny piy the coalman.”
“Whit, surely Big Joacky wid hiv gave ye wan oan tick”
Shug said in an incredulous tone.
“Naw, he widny, coz ah stull owe him fae last week, and ahll tell ye something else ya big eidgit if ye don’t hiv a single shullin the light is gonny go aff in a minute. Which might no be a bad thing, at least a wulny see yir big rid drunk face in the dork”.

Mamie hid met Big Shug on a fateful Friday night in the Barrowland ballroom. She had been sitting with her pals when this big fine boy came towards them with a gallus swagger, dressed immaculately in an army uniform, his hair flattened into submission with a coat of brylcreem. Mamie was hoping he would ask her to dance, and to her shock he made a beeline for her and said
“Urr ye dancing?”
She resisted an urge tae say ‘naw it’s jist the wiy ahm stauning’ instead she said nothing and just stood up and they both walked together to the dance floor. She was thinking
‘ah hope he is a good dancer, ah don’t want a showing up in front of mah pals’.

It was a whirlwind romance and they were married in Martha Street Registrar’s Office three months later. Big Shug had gotten another weeks leave from the army. He was stationed in France, but everybody knew the war would be over soon so leave was easier to come by. Three months later Big Shug was de-mobbed and Mamie was pregnant with her first child. After his discharge Big Shug had gotten a job with his uncle in the scrapyard and was earning good money. They had rented a lovely room and kitchen through Mamie’s Mammy’s factor and had furnished it from Grant’s Furniture shop at Bridgeton Cross. They put a deposit down and bought a three piece suite, a sideboard and a kitchen cabinet. Big Shug’s Mammy bought them a new double bed, one of those divan’s with the drawers underneath, and Mamie’s Mammy hid given them a big heavy walnut wardrobe and chest of drawers. She also made them lovely brocade curtains and Mamie had insisted on tie backs for the bedroom curtains. She had seen curtains in a magazine with tie backs and she had thought they looked brilliant and was determined that her curtains would have them too.

At first everything was great, Mamie was working in Lairds on piece work and Big Shug was earning good money at the scrapyard with his Uncle and life was good, and with the baby on the way everything in their wee room & kitchen was Rosy.

When Mamie was seven months pregnant she gave up her job and became a full time housewife, with all of the ‘privileges’ that brought. Cleaning the house all day, going to the shops for messages with her Mammy, making Big Shug’s dinner for him coming home from work. Fur the first few months it was just like playing at a house, which she had done often enough in the back court with her pals. Then two more children followed in quick succession, a boy, wee Shug and another girl. Mamie named her Lesley after the actress Lesley Caron, she had seen Leslie Caron in Gigi and thought she was lovely.

The night she went into labour with her first. Big Shug was in the Clachan Bar with his pals having a pint. Mamie sent for her Mammy and her Mammy went straight to the Clachan telling Big Shug to get home pronto. By the time the midwife had arrived Big Shug was at the door trying to find the keyhole and shouting through
“Mamie open the door ah canny find the keyhole.”
The midwife came to the door, told him to go into the kitchen and she would let him know when anything happened.

Roberta was born at half past ten on the 25th January a big bouncing baby with a mop of black hair. She was called Roberta in honour of being born on Rabbie’s birthday. Mamie’s Mammy had a big influence on naming the baby due to the fact that she loved Rabbie Burns and was over the moon when the baby was born on his birthday.

Big Shug rummaged around in his pocket and produced a single shilling for the meter.
Mamie said
“where is mah money, ah neety send Berta doon the chippy.”
Big Shug said
“Noo Mamie hen, ahm a wee bit shoart this week, naebuddy wiz throwin oot any scrap, ah wiz jist saying tae Tam in the Clachan that the boattom hid fell oot of the scrap and there wiz nae money in it noo”.
Mamie looked at him with a withering look and said
“Yiv loast it tae that bookie again, hint ye.”
“Naw Mamie, a swear oan a stacka bibles, ahv no been near the bookies.”
Shug said in his best pleading voice.
Mamie had heard it all before, and before he could say another word she said
“How much hiv ye goat left.”
“Three quid.”
He said.
“Gimmie it then, we’ll hifty miss the furniture this week and ah wulny be able tae get yir suit oot of the pawn”.
She pawned Shug’s suit every Monday and lifted it out on a Friday so he could wear it to the pub on a Saturday.

Mamie took the money, two pound notes, a ten shilling note and four half crowns. She walked over to the window and opened it and leaning out she shouted,
“Haw Berta”.
After a few seconds a girl’s voice answered
“whit is it Mammy”
“Here away ower tae Mario’s and get me two single fish and a big poke of chips, and hurry up aboot it ahm putting the kettle oan noo, and bring yir sister and brother up wi ye.”
She threw one of the half crowns out of the window and watched as Roberta ran towards Mario’s chip shop.
“She’s a good lassie.”
thought Mamie.

Mamie turned around, picked up the kettle and filled it with the best Loch Katrine water from the brass, swan neck tap and put it on the cooker. As she opened the kitchen cabinet she could hear Shug snoring. He had fallen asleep on the chair in front of the unlit fire. He had left his jacket on the back of the chair. Mamie crept over and gingerly eased it out from under him. She went through his pockets and found another three pounds and two ten shilling notes. She took one of the pound notes and one of the ten shilling notes, she was just about to put the jacket back when she felt something in the inside pocket. It was a bookies slip. A three horse accumulator, with the last race being the 2:30 at Lingfield the next day. She put the betting slip down her bra, and thought
‘Ahll piy the factor and get mah messages wi the money and if his line comes up ahll piy the furniture and the coalman wi the winnings.’
and smiled to herself.

She busied herself putting out plates, salt and vinegar. She buttered four slices of bread and opened a tin of peas and put them on the cooker. She could hear the children running up the stairs shouting ‘whoo whoo’, the signal to open the door. In they bounced shouting and squabbling with each other.

“tell her Mammy.”
“Ah never touched ye.”
“Aye ye did.”
“Didny.”
“Did.”
“Didny.”

“Shut up the lot of yous.”
Said Mamie,
“urr ye wull waken yir Da”.
They all sat down quietly still nudging each other and kicking each other under the table, all the time stifling laughter at their Da’s face, laid back on the chair with his mouth wide open and snoring like a hog.

Mamie cut the two fish into four pieces and put it on plates together with the chips which she also divided into four, a few spoonsful of peas, bread and margarine and four cups of sweet tea completed the meal.
“kin we go tae the pictures the morra Mammy.”
Said wee Shug.
“Ah don’t think so son, yir Da’s goat shoart wages this week”

As they say eating and talking big Shug stirred in the chair, he woke up and turned to Mamie saying
“Did ye get me a fish supper Mamie hen”
“Naw yi wurr sleeping and ah didny want tae waste gas keeping it hoat.”

“Never mind hen, ahll away doon tae Mario’s and get masell wan.”

“Ye mean ye wull away doon the pub and get another pint.”
said Mamie

“Naw, naw hen ahm coming straight back and we kin hiv a wee night in and listen tae Radio Luxemburg.”

Mamie shrugged her shoulders, she knew he wouldn’t be back this side of midnight.

She let the children out for another hour while she did the dishes and tidied up again.

Once the children were in bed she sat down, wrapped a quilt around her and started reading her book and listening to the wireless. She was still sitting there when she heard big Shug’s key in the door, she glance at the clock oan the brace
‘hauf eleven.’
She thought
‘he’s early.’

She lay down on the couch pretending to be sleeping. Shug entered the room and sat down on the recess bed and within five minutes he was fast asleep. She crept over, took his shoes off and lifted his feet onto the bed. She lay down on the couch and fell fast asleep dreaming of what she would do with the money the next day if the accumulator came up.

She woke up the next morning early, big Shug was still lying where she had left him with his clothes stull on. She put the kettle on and made some porridge for breakfast. She got the children up and gave them their breakfast and said they could go out to play for a wee while, warning them to stay nearby as she had to go into town and they would have to come with her. They all groaned, they knew that they would be walking into town if their Da’s wages were short.

She washed the dishes and tidied up the children’s bedroom and made their beds, one double the girls shared and one single for wee Shug. As she spread the pink candlewick bedspread she thought
“ahm gonny kill thay lassies, there wulny be any candlewick left in this blanket if they keep pulling it oot”.

She was just putting her coat on when she heard
“Coaaaaal.”
She rushed over to the window and shouted down
“Joacky kin ye bring a bag up fur me.”

“Aye Mamie ahll be up in a minute.”

She opened the front door and waited in the lobby fur Jocky to come up with the coal. Jocky Watson wiz a nice chap, and had let her off with a few bags of coal in the past. When he goat there she said
“Here Joacky there’s the money fur this bag and if it’s aw right ahll piy ye fur last weeks next week.”
“Aye yir aw right Mamie, ahll get last weeks next weeks then.”
He said giving her a wee smile and a wink.

She took a last look at big Shug still snoring and went out of the door and down the stairs behind Joacky. When she got there she called the children and they began walking down Dalmarnock Road towards Brigeton Cross and the town to pay the factor, whose office was in Stockwell Street just along Argyle Street from the Trongate. She would get her messages in Curlys at Bridgeton Cross on the way back. By the time she got back from the town, Big Shug had gone out. She put away her messages and chased the children out to play in the back court. As she went down the stairs, she shouted around the back close.
“Berta, watch they two weans ahll be back in five minutes.”
Archie the Bookie did his business from a single end three closes along from Mamie.

She was standing at the bookies close blethering with two men at the front of the close, they were always there and warned Archie if the police were coming. At quarter to three, she went in the close and knocked on the door. The bookie didn’t live there. He used the single end to take his bets and pay out the winnings. The door opened and Archie says
“Hello Mamie, where’s big Shug, he wiz in here aboot hauf an hoor ago saying he hid loast his bettin slip and that he hid two winners oan it.”
“Aye ah know”
Mamie said, trying to hide the lies in her eyes
“He’s fun it noo and asked me tae come doon and see if the thurd hoarse hid won”.
“Aye, it won.”
Said Archie
“he his goat a good few bob comin.”
“Here’s his slip Archie, he telt me tae pick up any winnins fur him.”
Archie took the slip and checked that it wiz OK and had the right nom-de-plume on it. He went into his pocket and pulled out a big wad of money, all five pound notes and started peeling off fivers. Mamie counted them as he peeled them off. Five, ten, fifteen. He went into his other pocket and pulled out some coins, two half crowns, a two bob bit and four big pennies.
“There ye go Mamie, fifteen pounds, nine and four pence, a good win fur big Shug, make sure he gies you a bung”.
Mamie laughed,
“aye that’ll be the day”.

When she got back from the bookies, she could see that Big Shug had been back. He had left his working trousers on the couch and his workin jacket was on the floor. The drawers on the sideboard were all open and the bedclothes were all on the floor. Mamie was laughing to herself.
‘he his been searching fur his betting slip’
She thought.
She could feel the lump of the money at her breast and was thinking that she would treat the children to some new clothes at the Barras the next day.

Mamie woke early on the Sunday and got the children up and dressed, as she opened the door she shouted into Shug
“Ahm away wi the weans tae ma Mammy’s ahll be back this efternin.”
She could hear him shouting.
“Haud oan Mamie, kin ye len me ten bob tae next week.”

Mamie rushed downstairs pretending she couldn’t hear him.

She almost ran down Springfield Road dragging the children behind her. She got on the 18 bus to the Barras. She bought the children a new rig out each and new sandshoes. She bought herself a new blouse and some new cups, the ones she hid were cracked and chipped. She also bought the children a comic each and a cheap toy. Then they all went into the Loch Fyne seafood shop and the children had a poke of whelks and Mamie had a plate of mussels. On the way home the children were all laughing and talking on the bus about their day out at the Barras.

When she goat home big Shug was sitting on the chair at the, now lit, fire.
As soon as she walked in the door she knew what was coming.
“Where hiv ye been, ye wurny at yir Ma‘s ah wiz roon there?”
He said non-chalontly
She knew. that he knew that she had collected the bet. Archie would have told him by this time.
“Did you take mah bettin slip oot of mah poacket last night”
“Whit bettin slip, you hivny been at the bookies, so ye canny hiv a bettin slip”.
“Stoap actin it and gie me the money yiv goat left”.
“Ah telt ye you didny hiv a bettin slip, you swore oan a stacka bibles that ye hidny been near the bookies and if ye hivny been near the bookies then ye couldny hiv hid a bettin slip noo could ye?”

Big Shug sat back down on the chair. He knew he would never see his winnings again she had out manoeuvred him and he knew it.

Procrastination - The Thief of Time

Woke up still tired, rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and lay back down again. I could see the dishes in the sink in my mind's eye, and resolved to go and do them as soon as I got up. It was Saturday morning and I should have washed the dishes last night, and would have, if it hadn't been for the necessity of reading that article about a woman who found out she was Arthur Askey in a previous life, which had explained her lifelong fascination with bees. By the time I had finished reading, it was after midnight. I thought, 'it's too late to do those dishes, I will do them in the morning.'

Lying there in the warmth of the duvet, I drifted off into a reverie about what it would be like if the world was in black and white with no colour. But it was useless, as the visions in my dream kept coming back in colour and no matter how hard I tried they just refused to be black and white. I woke again, and again thought of the dishes. I slowly got out of bed, and put my slippers on, and noticed that one of the pom poms was missing. 'I will just find it before I do those dishes,' I thought. I got down on my hands and knees and began searching under the bed for the missing pom pom. I spotted it. It wasn't under the bed but under the wardrobe. I got up, went round to the wardrobe, but couldn't reach the pom pom. I, again, got up and went to the broom cupboard, took out the sweeping brush, and howked the pom pom out. I put the brush back and headed reluctantly towards the kitchen to do the dishes.

As I went into the kitchen, I thought of the sewing box in the drawer there. 'I might as well sew this pom pom back on before I do those dishes'. I retrieved the sewing box from the drawer and went into the sitting room. I sat down and began to sew the pom pom onto the slippers. Ouch! I pricked my finger with the needle, which necessitated me going back to the kitchen for an elastoplast. I tried to run my finger under the tap, but couldn't because the sink was full of dirty dishes. I then used the bathroom tap. I dried my finger and put the elastoplast on the pin prick, made my way back to the sitting room and finished sewing on the pom pom.

By this time I was feeling a bit hungry. I decided to make something to eat and then do the dishes. No point in doing them before, as I would only need to do them again afterwards. I thought 'if I had eggs I could have egg and bacon........if I had bacon'. I had neither and anyway the frying pan was in the sink with the dirty dishes. I settled for cereal. I prepared the cereal, went back into the living room, switched on the television and sat down to eat my cereal. I would do the dishes when I had finished eating.

The programme on the telly was about a man who had travelled over South America searching for a lost tribe of pygmy eating giants. Rivetting stuff, the dishes would have to wait. I couldn't miss this. I finished the cereal, and put the bowl in the sink with all the other dishes, and thought. 'I really must do these dishes, but I'll just watch the end of this programme first.' The man thought he was close to finding the pygmy eating giants, it was a waste of time really as he never did find them.

I got up to finally do the dishes, when the doorbell rang. I answered it and it was two well dressed Americans who told me they were Jehovah's Witnesses. I thought of the dishes, and invited them in. Two hours later I followed them to the door, asking if they wanted to hear about my experiences when I was a Buddhist Monk in the foothills of the Himalayas. They assured me that they would come back another day to hear about those experiences, and that my reminiscences of my time in the Atherius Society had been most interesting. 'Dishes, must do those dishes.' I had just closed the door behind the Jehovah's witnesses when the phone rang, it was my Mother. She began by telling me about two of her neighbours who had died that week, and that the woman across the road had put up fancy roman blinds. I said 'sorry Mum, can't talk at the moment I need to do these dishes. I left them last night and they are beginning to get crusty. Bye for now, luv you, speak to you later'. By this time it was four o'clock in the afternoon, and I was meeting Sandra at seven. I would have to leave the dishes until later. I got out my clothes and laid them on the bed and went for a nice long soak in the bath. I got dressed and went out, with the image of the dirty dishes still imprinted in my brain. When I got home I felt a bit tired, perhaps it was the wine, in any case I couldn't do the dishes tonight, I was whacked and I would have to do them in the morning.

Woke up still tired, rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and lay back down again. I could see the dishes in the sink in my mind's eye.

The Sister

The meetings took place every week, a gathering of like-minded people, who whilst not close friends, were all acquaintances, but for the past few weeks a stranger had been attending the meetings, his name was Edward but everyone called him The General, this was due to an air of authority, he carried with him. He had a long face, shaped like a lantern, and deep black eyes which traversed the room with an imperious glance. He was singularly unattractive, however his company was sought out by most of the friends. His incredulous tales, kept the friends rapt, and hanging on his every word.

The custom of the friends was to partake of an agreeable meal and refreshments, conversing and exchanging stories. The friends, who had been meeting for many years, had begun repeating their stories, and this evening there was a languid air of boredom in the room."Ah here is The General" called several people at once. The General entered the room, sweeping down to the front of the assembled group, he was at once the centre of attention. "Tell us one of your stories" said the young man, who had been watching The General with an air of someone who had met his maker.Alright ladies and gentlemen take your seats and dim the lights and I will relate the following mysterious happenings.

Quite some time ago now, I had occasion to visit the Chief of the Clan Dunbar, in the North West of Scotland, I had met him previously in New York, where he had been attending one of the many gatherings of his Clan which took place regularly in America. On that occasion we found in each other a kindred spirit, and I accompanied him to all of his Clan Meetings and we became firm friends, exchanging addresses and promising to keep in touch. A few weeks after I arrived home, I received in the post an invitation to spend the weekend in Dunbar Valley in the extreme North West of Scotland. Over the next week, I carefully prepared for my visit, and decided I would drive, and stop off in the Lake District for a night and resume my journey in the morning.

I arose on the day of my journey full of excitement and looking forward to both the drive and spending some time with my friend. I spent the night in an adequate Bed & Breakfast in Windermere and after a hearty breakfast resumed my journey northwards, as I drove the weather became more and more menacing.

His substantial house lay in a valley, surrounded by steep hills covered in bracken and heather, there was a stillness about the place, and the surrounding scenery could only be described as magnificent desolation. I am sure the sun did reach the valley floor, but not on this occasion. The menacing black clouds which threatened rain, hung over the valley like Damocles Sword. As I drove into the valley and up to the house, the place was in darkness except one light shining brightly against that pitch blackness which can only be found in the depth of the countryside. I knocked on the door and it was quickly answered by the wife of the Clan Chief. "Come in, welcome to Dunbar House." she said with a pleasant smile which lit up her pretty face. The interior of the house was wood panelled and full of overstuffed sofas and large imposing dark wood furniture. There was a faint smell of cigar smoke permeating the house. I followed her into the living room where my friend was sitting back smoking a cigar, he rose to meet me and shook my hand firmly. "It’s good to see you" he said "I hope you have a pleasant stay with us". Letitia, his wife, showed me to my room, which, although not an attic, was at the top of the house. It was a pleasant, light room, in stark contrast with the rest of the house, and I looked forward to a comfortable sleep after my long drive.

After washing and changing, I made my way back down to the living room and following some idle chit chat, we sat down to dinner. I noted an air of sorrow on my friends face, and asked him, if he was OK. He replied that he was, but that the sorrow was due to the death of his wife’s identical twin sister, who had never married and had been living with them for some time. At this his wife, clearly upset, rose from the table, and said "she is not dead" and excusing herself left the room. My friend confided that his wife had taken the death of her sister very badly to the extent that she would not allow the room she lived in to be altered in any way, "it must stay as it was when she left" she had told her husband, and she would spend many hours in there sitting on her own with her thoughts. As letitia returned, I made an effort to lighten the mood, with some comic anecdotes, and reminding my friend of the great time we had had in New York. After a while the mood lightened and we sat there laughing and joking as we ate our, not unsubstantial meal. That evening as I went to bed, through a chink of light at the bottom of the dead sister’s door, I saw a shadow, which appeared to cross the room. I knew my friend and his wife were downstairs, and there was no one else in the house. I felt a chill, and hurried into my room and to bed. I slept fitfully and awoke with a start in the middle of the night. I rose from the bed and crept to the door, listening intently, but could hear nothing except the howling of a distant owl, and the chirruping of grasshoppers, whose sound was carried in the still night air. I went back to bed and determined to tell my host of my experiences over breakfast.

When I arrived for breakfast, Letitia was already preparing some bacon and eggs, and I could smell the fresh coffee which was bubbling on the stove. I helped myself to some coffee and exchanged pleasantries with Letitia, however, I noted a slight change in her voice, I couldn’t put my finger on it, the tone had subtly changed, and although, almost imperceptible, her face did not seem as pretty as it had the evening before. I had another cup of coffee and my friend entered the room. "I thought we might take a walk before breakfast" he said, and invited me to get my coat from the hall. As we walked along I noticed that the threatening clouds had burst in the night, and had left a glittering, silvery dew on the abundant foliage on the hilly slopes leading up out of the valley. It was a crisp, cold morning, perfect for a brisk walk before breakfast. As we walked I related my experiences of the previous evening, and my friend, said I must have been imagining it and that there was no one else in the house except him and his wife. I let the matter drop, as I could sense uneasiness in my companion’s manner. We returned and Letitia served breakfast and as we chatted I realised that her voice of the previous evening had returned and her face was as pretty as ever. I shrugged off my misgivings and enjoyed the breakfast. After breakfast, my friend and I ventured out with our cameras to try to photograph a deer, my friend had said there are plenty of deer in the valley and with a bit of luck we might even see a Stag. After four hours of creeping around, we were successful and I managed, with great stealth, to photograph a magnificent stag, and whilst not such a good photograph, I also got one of a Golden Eagle in flight. What a beautiful Country this is. We returned early afternoon, and had a light lunch, so as not to spoil dinner.

I went to my room to freshen up for dinner, stopping at the room where I had seen the shadow the previous evening, I quietly opened the door, and went into the room, which was lit dimly by a shaft of fading light entering from the one window. It was a pretty room, obviously a woman’s room. There were cosmetics and perfumes neatly set on the dressing table and there was a skirt and blouse laid out on the bed. The room felt cold, and I had an uneasy feeling, so I left and quietly shut the door behind me. I shrugged and laughed to myself at my paranoia, and told myself not to be so silly. After dinner we played cards for a while, cribbage. At around midnight I left my hosts in the living room and went upstairs to bed. I noticed there was, again, a chink of light under the door of the bedroom, and I stopped to listen at the door, holding my breath in case anyone could hear me from within the room. There was no sound, all was quiet and still. I went to my room and fell into a deep sleep, from which I awoke with a start. I once again, gingerly rose from my bed and crept to my door listening all the while for any sounds. I opened the door and was startled, by a slight creak which pierced the stillness. I stopped in my tracks, held my breath and waited for the silence to surge back. I then crept towards the door of the other room. I opened the door quickly and before me stood Letitia and beside her was another Letitia, but this one I can only describe as transparent, and as I entered the room she merged into the real Letitia and they became one. I felt a cold chill and asked Letitia what was going on. She replied, "I told you my sister wasn’t dead, she lives through me." The next morning I awoke and after pleasantries with my friend I said my goodbye’s and left them to their ménage de trios.

The assembled friends who had been listening intently to the General began to clap their hands, "brilliant General, is it a true story?"
The General, with a quizzical look, replied, yes.

The Park Bench

The old man sat on the bench opposite the fountain every day, he was reading a copy of The Times and every so often he would knock his pipe against the edge of the bench, and after re-lighting it, he would put it into the corner of his mouth and resume reading.

George Gregory had been coming to this same bench regularly for the past 15 years, but today was to be his last day, only he didn’t know it. Ever since his wife had died some 5 years previously, George had taken to walking in the park each day and sitting on the bench reading, smoking and watching the world go by. This particular day seemed no different from any other, George had gotten up around 07:30 and after his morning ablutions, had eaten a light breakfast and tidied up the small flat that he and Elizabeth had shared for 40 years, they hadn’t had children, so the flat had always been enough for them. He had met Elizabeth at University, she had been a bit of a rebel, and had been arrested several times, for taking part in various protests, it was this rebellious streak in her that had attracted George. That, and her beautiful body and long black hair, she had a dimple on one cheek and it deepened when she laughed. George had been the quiet studious type, and was amazed when Elizabeth made it known that she was attracted to him, and after a whirlwind courtship they had married in the local Registrar’s Office. They bought the flat in 1972 and had lived there ever since.

When they first married they had a wide circle of friends and acquaintances, but as the years passed, most of them had either moved away or died. They still kept in touch with a few friends, but mostly they kept each other’s company. They were kindred spirits, and loved each other with a passion that never died. She had only gone in to hospital to have a benign cyst removed, but had suffered a heart attack on the operating table. George was devastated, and retreated into himself. The only time he left the house was to go for shopping and to the park each day for his smoke of his pipe, he wouldn’t smoke in the flat as Elizabeth had always hated the smell of his pipe, and although she was gone now, he felt she wouldn’t have liked him to smoke in the flat.

It was a beautiful, sunny day and the park was busy. Children running past laughing and shouting, courting couples, arm in arm, gazing into each other’s eyes, fractious babies crying, Ice Cream Vendors Chimes and harassed Mothers and Fathers, scolding their children.

As he sat there in the warm sun smoking his pipe, George folded his paper and leaned back on the bench, his mind wandered back to sunny days in the past when he and Elizabeth had first met at university, the endless political meetings, the demonstrations, the music and the tender nights of youthful passion. He remembered her joy when he had got them tickets to see Bob Dylan, and they way she threw her arms around him and told him, she loved him up to the sky. They had walked through this park many, many times, so much in love, with the world before them. Once she had found an injured bird, and took it home and nursed it to health. Then when they were told they could never have children, Elizabeth had come to the park, he followed and found her on the bench quietly crying, he had put his arms around her, and her face wet with tears, he had kissed her gently and said it will be OK, but the pain remained in Elizabeth’s heart. It was also here she had come when she found out about the lump in her breast, they had both sat on the bench crying with a feeling of dread, and then the joy when they were told that the lump was benign and that Elizabeth only needed a small op to remove it. He thought about the wonderful holidays in Greece, they always went to the same place, a beautiful out of the way village where over the years they had gotten to know the locals very well, he remembered the tender sweet intimacy he shared with her on hot, balmy Greek nights.

The night before she went into hospital she had said to him, "don’t worry George, I’ll be OK" and even if I’m not I’ll be waiting for you. He had thought that strange at the time, but shrugged it off. The Sun was getting hotter, and George fell into a Reverie, he could see Elizabeth’s face, she was beckoning him, he felt warm and happy, he walked towards her and took her hand, he experienced a peaceful calm come over him. He knew now what she had meant and felt sublimely happy, Elizabeth was smiling her dimple deepening.

George remained on the bench, and the children running past smiled at the old man sleeping on the bench, the Ice Cream Van was still chiming and the Mothers and Fathers were still scolding, but George couldn’t hear them.