few spiritualist meetings hoping to get a message from Dad. When she didn’t, she was convinced he was still alive and languishing in some foreign hospital.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Our neighbour along the lobby regularly holds little seances for women who’ve lost sons, husbands and fathers in the war. She always has a full house. My father says it’s all a load of supernatural tommyrot, but Mum tells him she’s heard it brings comfort to some people.’
The fact that other people were also seeking some contact with their dead loved ones consoled me, and I was pleased that Mum and Milly hadn’t been paranoid and strange. It now seemed as if there were lots of women, for they were mostly women, all pursuing some sort of closure. Personally I thought it was distasteful, but that was just my opinion.
Then things came to a head one night. It had been a horrible day, with rain and a blustery wind that swept down the narrow streets, sending people scurrying from the wet pavements towards their homes or in my case onto a tramcar from the West Port to Victoria Road. I had to change out of my school clothes and dry my hair, but Granny made a pot of tea and we ate pancakes with honey. Then at six o’clock Mum appeared and she was in a foul mood due to the fact she had also been drenched in the rain.
‘I’ve had a horrendous day, with three very difficult customers,’ she said while pulling off her wet shoes and raincoat. ‘Then I got caught in this awful weather and it’s supposed to be summertime. I mean, for goodness’ sake, it’s May month and we should be having warm, sunny weather.’
One thing I had noticed lately was that Granny, when faced by Mum’s wrath over difficult customers or rotten weather, would sit quietly until the storm passed; however, on this particular night it didn’t pass and Mum raged all through our meal and afterwards. Even when Maisie appeared, she was still moaning.
Finally Granny had had enough and she said pleasantly, ‘Maybe you should go to the doctor, Beth, and get something for your nerves.’
Mum exploded. ‘My nerves … What’s wrong with my nerves, Mary?’
Granny remained placid. ‘Well, you always seem to be overwrought these days. Perhaps the doctor can prescribe something to help you.’
‘I don’t need anything to help me. All I’m looking for is some decent weather so I can wear my new summer frock, which hasn’t been off its hanger since I bought it, and some cheerful customers who want to buy a hat instead of trying on all the stock then walking away without buying a thing.’
‘Well, we can’t pick the weather or make cheerful customers go into the millinery department, Beth, so we just have to put up with it.’
I didn’t look up from my book when Granny said this and she didn’t raise her eyes from her knitting. Then poor Maisie put in her pennyworth, as she tried to be helpful. ‘I remember when I suffered from nerves a few years ago. I got a lovely bottle of tonic from the chemist and it only cost me sixpence.’
‘Right then,’ said Mum. ‘Tomorrow Lizzie can go and get me some of this magic tonic from the chemist and we’ll see if it helps my nerves.’
Later, when I went to bed, Mum was still awake and gazing at the ceiling. ‘Do you think I need a tonic, Lizzie?’ she asked me.
Unsure how to answer, I decided that truthfulness was best. ‘Yes I do, Mum. You always seem so unhappy and pale, and you never eat enough but leave most of your food on the plate.’
She sighed listlessly, all of her former aggression now spent. ‘Yes, I know. I’m beginning to be a pain to live with.’
‘No, you’re not. It’s just that we’re worried about you and want you to be happy again.’
She gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Happy? I haven’t been happy in years. But tomorrow you can get me this bottle of tonic and I promise to take it all and be a changed woman.’
The next afternoon I picked up the tonic from the
‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Our neighbour along the lobby regularly holds little seances for women who’ve lost sons, husbands and fathers in the war. She always has a full house. My father says it’s all a load of supernatural tommyrot, but Mum tells him she’s heard it brings comfort to some people.’
The fact that other people were also seeking some contact with their dead loved ones consoled me, and I was pleased that Mum and Milly hadn’t been paranoid and strange. It now seemed as if there were lots of women, for they were mostly women, all pursuing some sort of closure. Personally I thought it was distasteful, but that was just my opinion.
Then things came to a head one night. It had been a horrible day, with rain and a blustery wind that swept down the narrow streets, sending people scurrying from the wet pavements towards their homes or in my case onto a tramcar from the West Port to Victoria Road. I had to change out of my school clothes and dry my hair, but Granny made a pot of tea and we ate pancakes with honey. Then at six o’clock Mum appeared and she was in a foul mood due to the fact she had also been drenched in the rain.
‘I’ve had a horrendous day, with three very difficult customers,’ she said while pulling off her wet shoes and raincoat. ‘Then I got caught in this awful weather and it’s supposed to be summertime. I mean, for goodness’ sake, it’s May month and we should be having warm, sunny weather.’
One thing I had noticed lately was that Granny, when faced by Mum’s wrath over difficult customers or rotten weather, would sit quietly until the storm passed; however, on this particular night it didn’t pass and Mum raged all through our meal and afterwards. Even when Maisie appeared, she was still moaning.
Finally Granny had had enough and she said pleasantly, ‘Maybe you should go to the doctor, Beth, and get something for your nerves.’
Mum exploded. ‘My nerves … What’s wrong with my nerves, Mary?’
Granny remained placid. ‘Well, you always seem to be overwrought these days. Perhaps the doctor can prescribe something to help you.’
‘I don’t need anything to help me. All I’m looking for is some decent weather so I can wear my new summer frock, which hasn’t been off its hanger since I bought it, and some cheerful customers who want to buy a hat instead of trying on all the stock then walking away without buying a thing.’
‘Well, we can’t pick the weather or make cheerful customers go into the millinery department, Beth, so we just have to put up with it.’
I didn’t look up from my book when Granny said this and she didn’t raise her eyes from her knitting. Then poor Maisie put in her pennyworth, as she tried to be helpful. ‘I remember when I suffered from nerves a few years ago. I got a lovely bottle of tonic from the chemist and it only cost me sixpence.’
‘Right then,’ said Mum. ‘Tomorrow Lizzie can go and get me some of this magic tonic from the chemist and we’ll see if it helps my nerves.’
Later, when I went to bed, Mum was still awake and gazing at the ceiling. ‘Do you think I need a tonic, Lizzie?’ she asked me.
Unsure how to answer, I decided that truthfulness was best. ‘Yes I do, Mum. You always seem so unhappy and pale, and you never eat enough but leave most of your food on the plate.’
She sighed listlessly, all of her former aggression now spent. ‘Yes, I know. I’m beginning to be a pain to live with.’
‘No, you’re not. It’s just that we’re worried about you and want you to be happy again.’
She gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Happy? I haven’t been happy in years. But tomorrow you can get me this bottle of tonic and I promise to take it all and be a changed woman.’
The next afternoon I picked up the tonic from the
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