Page 27 of What's the time, Mr. Wolfe
I looked in on Grandma and then headed upstairs to bed.
Chapter Seven
Ihad a fitful night, tossing and turning, and when I woke way before my alarm, I felt disorientated. I couldn’t remember what I’d dreamt about, which frustrated me. Years before, when I’d had counselling, I often had night terrors and was encouraged to write them down. It was a way of discharging the image. But when I woke anxious without knowing what I’d dreamt, those took a while to get over.
I made a tea and took it in to Grandma. We had a nice routine in the morning. I’d wake her. She’d drink her tea and then I’d wash her, put her in some clothes and help her into her chair. She’d watch the television while I changed her bed or made it if it was clean. I then made her porridge. It was the only thing she’d eat in themorning, and about the right consistency for her to swallow.
Monica came and I told her about Tim. I assured her I still needed her, and she wasn’t losing her job. She’d become so fond of Grandma herself.
“When I’m working, I’ll be able to pay for more hours,” I said.
She smiled and accepted the cup of tea I offered. “I can’t do full time, Ruby.”
“I know, but whatever you can do would be amazing. We can work Tim around your hours. I trust you, and Grandma trusts you. This other bloke has been thrust on me.”
I told her all about the evening, excluding the club.
“Well, I think it’s a good thing, to be honest. You know you’ll never cope with working and caring for Grandma, and you can’t pass up this opportunity. I’d be furious with you if you did.” Her stern tone of voice was coupled with a smile.
“I’m not going to. I need this. I need you, and Tim. And I’m not too proud to refuse Sebastian’s handout.” I laughed and sipped my tea.
There had been a time I’d been way too proud to ask for help. It was only when I was at breaking point, Mr. Trent had intervened and got the school counsellor on my side. She had been the one to organise help and called in social services for me. Then had the real fightstarted. I had to scrap for every sliver of help I discovered I was entitled to. It was arduous and demoralising. So when a gift horse came my way, I snatched it with both hands, too exhausted to fight anymore.
Grandma called out, not for me, but for a random name. Sometimes, I’d ask her who the person was, and she’d tell me about them as if they existed in real life. It was lovely to see her animated and smiling. Other times she’d tell me they were trying to kill her, and she’d be distressed and lash out. I’d gone to college with a black eye once when she’d struck out and I’d tripped as I stepped out of the way.
I sighed. Monica smiled and went to attend to her.
I picked up the contract that was still sitting on the kitchen table. I wrote,dental planon it, and laughed.
Later that day, after I’d attended a couple of lectures, although more to say goodbye to my teachers, I went through my wardrobe. I couldn’t afford new clothes and had become a dab hand at sewing up tears and repurposing items. I’d even altered and redesigned some of Grandma’s clothes. She had a trunk in the loft, full of outfits I imagined she would have worn in the forties and fifties. Occasionally, I’d rifle through and sell off some to retro stores. I decided to do that. I climbed into theloft and grabbed a handful of items. There was a retro store nearby that would take all I’d let them have. Why I didn’t take the entire trunk, I wasn’t sure. It didn’t feel so disloyal, I guessed, if I only took a few items at a time. Next to the retro shop was a charity shop and I hoped I might be able to find some trousers and perhaps some footwear in there.
I called out to Monica that I’d be back in an hour and left the house.
“Oh, these are lovely, Ruby,” Darcy said. She held up dress after dress. “You know this one’s Chanel, don’t you?”
I nodded. Grandma had a lot of designer items, especially handbags.
“I’m going to keep this one for myself. Let me price them all up for you.”
Darcy offered me fifty pounds for the Chanel even though I knew it would be worth more, and another one hundred pounds for the rest. I took the money. She wasn’t trying to rip me off, it was what she could afford, and I didn’t have the time nor inclination to sell it myself. I headed next door.
I loved to rifle through charity shops. I’d found many a bargain before. In fact, I was sure most of what we had in the house had come from one charity or another.
I held up a pair of black trousers, new and still with the tag. I then found a rather nice blue shirt. It was aman’s but small and I was sure it would look good with the trousers. I found a pair of flat black shoes, only slightly scuffed, a largeish tote that would do for carrying my lunch to work, and a dress. I only owned one dress. I had, in the past, I’d had loads. But since being on my own with Grandma, clothes hadn’t been a priority. I was super excited, however, to find a beautiful red coat.
It was woollen and military style, with a slight flare at the bottom. I tried it on. It was slightly on the large side, but that didn’t matter. I did the gold buttons up and then the belt. I looked at myself in the mirror. It was flattering, for sure. It highlighted my waist. I’d always been slim and that was simply from not having a ton of food to eat. I wasn’t ever hungry, though. I guess I’d learned to ignore the grumble in my stomach.
I stuffed my purchases in a creased old plastic carrier bag and headed back home. I sighed as I rounded the corner and saw the now familiar black car. As I walked towards it, Sebastian stepped out.
“People are going to talk,” I said.
“Let them.”
“I’ve been clothes shopping,” I said, holding the bag aloft.
He frowned. “Where?”
“The charity shop. Where do you think? Don’t get money for designer from the government, you know.”
