The Afternoon Tea Club. Jane Gilley

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      It had been a week of thunderstorms and drizzle, since the last afternoon tea meeting at Borough Community Centre, and the ladies and gents and the few younger people slurping tea and munching biscuits around the tables at this week’s afternoon tea had been lamenting over that fact.

      One lady had slipped in the doorway, due to the wet being traipsed in on people’s feet. She’d been helped up by a woman who she was delighted to recognise as being her long-lost childhood school friend from a neighbouring town.

      ‘Pauline? Pauline Rastock? Oh I don’t believe it!’

      ‘Goodness, is that you, Emily? Emily Blye? Well, what a coincidence!’

      ‘Small world! Look, let me help you. Oh, your foot looks quite swollen. Can you stand on it?’

      ‘No, not very well. It’s quite painful! Now how are we going to get into the hall with me like this?’

      ‘Right, well, just put your weight on me and we’ll hobble. Yes, that’s it. Let’s get a table together. It’ll be wonderful to catch up. Oh and I hear they’ve got chocolate cake this week.’

      ‘Chocolate cake? Gosh, we are being spoilt, aren’t we?’

      Marjorie smiled as she passed the two enthusiastic ladies. People were making friends or rather reuniting with old friends. Unfortunately, Lou wasn’t well enough to make it this week but promised she’d come next week if Gracie would bring her. But Marjorie’s eyes lit up at the sound of chocolate cake being served this week. What a treat! She used to love baking but it tended to end up down a wall or trodden into her carpet when Oliver was alive. She shuddered at the thought of what she’d had to put up with throughout those awful years.

      ‘Have you put your suggestions in the box yet?’ said one of the elderly gents from last week. His question interrupted her thoughts, making her jump.

      ‘What? Oh no. I’m perfectly happy just coming here for afternoon tea. Especially as we’ve got chocolate cake this week.’

      ‘Ah yes.’ The gent smiled. ‘I can see everybody’s thrilled about that. Although I must say I prefer Victoria sandwich, myself. My name’s Raymond, by the way, like it says on my sticker. They wrote it out for me, which is helpful as I’ve got a bit of arthritis in my right hand, so I don’t tend to write much nowadays. They’re nice people, Eileen and Taynor, aren’t they? It’s marvellous what they’re trying to do for us, don’t you think? And I can’t wait to see what suggestions everybody comes up with next week. So where’s your sticker, then?’

      ‘Er, I might get one later, if I remember. I don’t think I’ll necessarily be coming all that often. Maybe occasionally.’

      ‘Ah,’ Raymond said. ‘Well, look. Do you mind if I join you at your table?’

      Marjorie shook her head, although maybe a little too vigorously, and started to ramble.

      ‘Um, no you can’t join me. I don’t know where I’m sitting just yet and I was just about to try and find the toilet. Do you know where they are?’

      ‘Oh, I’m not sure. Maybe somewhere near reception?’

      Marjorie sidled away. Oliver had always hated her talking to other men. Yet, despite him no longer being alive, she still couldn’t seem to get out of the habit of making her excuses and leaving men when they approached her. Gracie got mad about it sometimes.

      ‘I wish you’d see how rude it sounds to people when you’re abrupt like that. They’re not Daddy. So can’t you learn how to let them down more gently instead of just saying “no” to everyone? My God, you’re lucky to be approached at all. Some women never experience the charm of a man and there you are turning them away at eighty-two!’

      Marjorie hated it when Gracie got angry with her but she could do nothing to change her behaviour. It was in-built from too many years of constant abuse. Even though Gracie had pulled her up about this unsavoury aspect of her personality and even though she’d tried to watch what she said to people, sometimes things just popped out unchecked. Unfortunately, it usually hit her that she was saying the wrong thing after she’d said it.

      So she decided to stay in the toilets until she felt sure Raymond would have found a seat somewhere else. Then she went back and ordered tea and a piece of chocolate cake from the helpers.

      ‘Oh and here’s your name sticker. It’s Marjorie, isn’t it?’ said Eileen coming up to her.

      Marjorie turned in puzzled surprise. She’d told no one her name.

      ‘The girl in the yellow cardigan, over there, overheard your daughter calling you Marjorie last week. Her name is Stacy,’ Eileen said.

      ‘Oh right. Thanks!’ Marjorie said, relieved, but then nearly jumped out of her skin as Eileen positioned the sticker just below Marjorie’s left shoulder and pressed lightly.

      Marjorie already felt flustered by this week’s experiences in the community centre. And she felt out of sorts at Eileen’s easy manner as she stuck the name tag on her. Well, sure, Marjorie’s hands were full, so it made sense, and it had been done with care, but it made her realise that the only person who ever really touched her, these days, was her daughter, when they hugged. Marjorie wasn’t even one for hugging her own friends when she chanced to see them. It was behaviour she was not used to.

      A tear pricked her eye. Everyone here was being really nice to her. It was a new experience for her and she was finding it difficult to accept.

      ‘Hi, Marjorie!’ called the girl in the yellow cardigan, loudly enough for Raymond to now know who she was, Marjorie realised. ‘Come and sit over here with me.’

      As Marjorie sat down with her tea and cake, she studied Stacy. In a way it was infuriating that she couldn’t remember where she knew her from. But did the girl want to be her friend, like Eileen or Taynor had suggested they could if they wanted to, last week? Goodness, there was at least a sixty-year age gap between them! The thought made her chuckle as she placed her tea and cake on the table. She took a large mouthful of the cake to stifle her laugh and it was so delicious it made her sigh instead, which elicited a remark from Stacy.

      ‘Good, isn’t it? Everyone’s saying they’ll come every week if we get chocolate cake. It’s a real treat isn’t it? I don’t get to eat cake much,’ Stacy said with a sad smile. ‘So did you make any suggestions? Did you put them in the box or just tell Eileen? I just told Eileen I’d like to go to the sea for the day. I’m a country girl you see. My parents have always worked the land. Mum said we stayed in a caravan in Mablethorpe when we were little. We went there to see our cousins, but I don’t remember it. So I’d really like to go to the seaside proper. I work in a library near here. Don’t mind it – it’s a bit boring sometimes but it’s near where I live and it means I can keep an eye on my cats. I’ve got eight cats, you know. They’re a bit rowdy and I got scratched recently but I do love them. So what do you usually do with your time or do you—’

      ‘Good grief! Please stop!’ hissed Marjorie, covering her ears.

      The other women around the table gasped, their mouths opening ever so slightly in shock at Marjorie’s response. Marjorie glanced about herself nervously. Oh no, I’m doing it again! she thought in dismay, judging by the way the other women were scowling at her. Stacy’s eyes dropped to the table. The poor СКАЧАТЬ