A Change for the Better? (2 page)

So here she was 48 hours later outside the front door of Tolpuddle House with her case,
holdall, wet feet
and reference from her previous employer who had been irritatingly eager to let her go immediately - to save any
‘
embarrassing little encounters
’
as they put it.

Still Katie couldn’t help but look affectionately at the huge, oak, varnished door with a solid brass knocker in the middle. It had always seemed like an invitation to adventure when she was small. Now it seemed a bit ramshackle and certainly not the modern, up-to-the-minute outfit she was used to, but nonetheless it was reassuring in its familiarity. Katie slipped the key in the lock and heaved on the door. It didn
’
t move.
“
Great
”
she thought, Mo had said it could be a bit stiff – but it was more like jammed. Now what was the knack Mo mentioned, lift up the handle, kick the bottom right of the door, push the handle down simultaneously and SHOVE.
“
Ok here goes nothing
”
Katie mumbled to herself and shoved and kicked as instructed. A few seconds later as she hauled herself off the hall floor and dusted down her Calvin Klein jeans she announced to her reflection in the hall mirror,
“
Yes, that would appear to be the knack!
”

Katie collected her bags from the path and took a proper look around the hall. It was much as she remembered, the magnolia paint that could do with a fresh coat, the staircase heading upstairs – with a less garish carpet than had graced it during the seventies and eighties. To her right was a door leading into the front room. Mo and Granddad never really used this room although it had a beautiful big bay window overlooking the front
garden. It
had been impossible, despite all
Granddads’
efforts, to get the room
warm. They had always preferred to sit in the living area of the kitchen with it
s
oversized misshapen sofa and armchairs, the range giving off a cosy heat and always some wonderful aromas of baking bread, casseroles or roasting meats, whilst watching all their
favourite
soaps on the telly.
On Katie
’
s left was the door into Mo
’
s flat and straight ahead up the hall led to the ground floor flat occupied by some of Mo
’
s
‘
people
’
. Altogether the house had seven other occupants in the various flats and bed sits that Katie
’
s Granddad had created over ten years before.

Katie took out Mo
’
s list as she opened the door into the flat and dumped her bags at the side to be dealt with later. There, on the list, were Mo
’
s acerbic details of her current
‘
guests
’
as she called them.

Downstairs - Ground Floor Flat, Mary & Ken Clackett, both 70 but think they
’
re 40 - watch out for any DIY undertaken.

First Floor

Bed sit 1 - Guy Masters, something to do with computers doesn’t
’
t speak much - make sure he eats.

Bed sit 2 - Poppy Smith, Student at
Rawlinston College
studying dresses - make sure she eats too.

Bed sit 3 - Hermione Sheridan, spinster of this parish (not her choice!).
A bit fussy but her hearts in the right place

2nd Floor Flat - Bradley & Tamsin Dixon,
newlyweds
, both very into the environment, animals, children and each other.

Below all this Mo had also written details of the various rents each of the
‘
guests
’
paid and which bank account to pay them into and how much Katie should take each week for her housekeeping role. Katie smiled as she read it - that had been an hourly amount in her last job! Still she wouldn’t need much money around here. Laxley Heath was not renowned for it
’
s wealth of activities,
“
Still
”
Katie thought
“
perhaps I should
’
ve tried a bit harder to save some of that money I earned
instead of blowing it all on trips, holidays, clothes and gadgets which would be of little or no use to her here.”

Choosing not to dwell on her short-comings at the present moment, Katie picked up her bags and put them in the first bedroom, wincing at the chintz with added chintz decor that Mo
favoured
in here. Deciding to unpack her things later Katie headed for the kitchen in search of something familiar, and there they were the big old range, the comfy sofa, a flat screen TV with DVD recorder (that was new Mo!) and the huge pine kitchen table. Katie felt inspired immediately and putting the range on to warm up the flat and the water she decided to see what food was available. As it turned out not much in the finished form but the ingredients for almost anything, just as she had expected. Without thinking Katie rolled up her sleeves and collected all the things she needed to make some bread. Of course in London she had a top of the range bread-maker for this, but she knew how to make it herself. Mo had spent many evenings and holidays when Katie had come to stay teaching her grand-daughter how to bake freshly made bread, tasty crunchy biscuits, melt-in-the-mouth sponges and all sorts of buns and fancies. Katie had loved learning how to bake and she had a natural instinct for it, always knowing what to add or how long to stir the mixture without spoiling it and then pulling the finished article out of
the range at just the right moment. Katie loved to bake, she found the measuring, stirring and kneading, soothing and settling all to create a delicious concoction when she felt worried or stressed. It was almost as comforting as eating the creations fresh from the oven. This was just one of those times Katie reflected ruefully, her whole life had just been turned upside down, she had lost her love, her home, her job and was pitched up back where she had started out from eight years before, and she had no idea what she was going to do next, but somehow as she threw the ingredients in the bowl, mixed them and kneaded the soft springy dough she felt her nerves relax, and a calmness surround her. She might not know what tomorrow would bring but just for now she was alright.

An hour and a half later Katie was sat on the sofa eating freshly baked bread with butter dripping from the sides, accompanied by a steaming hot mug of tea, watching the late afternoon offerings on the
telly. Quiz
shows and talk shows, but nothing challenging or disturbing - just what she needed to keep her troubled spirits soothed. As she sat in a half trance like state she
realised
there was a fairly persistent knocking on the door in the
kitchen. The
door opened onto the path at the side of the house leading round to the patio and the flat at the back.

Rising slowly from her seat Katie was loath to let the real world back in so soon but
realised
that, as the lamps were on, there was no use in pretending no one was home. As Katie opened the door lilting Irish tones reached her.

“
No, no, Ken, leave that be, just put the bag in the bin like I said - Oh hello my dear, you look confused, are you tired? My goodness what a delicious smell, fresh baked bread, how wonderful
”
The flow of conversation never stopped as the elderly, but sprightly, lady walked through the door and plonked herself firmly on one of the kitchen chairs.

“
Oh you have the range on too, lovely, I always think the range gives off a homely, proper heat, not like the central heating or those storage heater things
”
she said the words as if they were the work of the devil and in the short intake of breath she took then Katie decided to jump right in before getting lost in the next bit of chatter.

“
Um hello, do come in. I
’
m Katie Collins, Mo
’
s grand-daughter. Can I help you?
”

“
Well of course you are - I
’
m Mary Clackett from the ground floor. We
’
ve met before, you know, when you came to visit Mo a couple of years ago, though I must say you were not so skinny then.
”
Mary cast a
disapproving eye over Katie. Being thin was clearly on a par with storage heaters to Mary Clackett.

“
Of course we did, Mrs. Clackett, it
’
s been a while and I
’
m afraid I
’
m a bit shell shocked at the moment with all the things that have happened
”
Katie tried to defend her forgetfulness.

“
But of course you are my dear
”
clucked Mary,
“
and call me Mary, what with your grandmother
’
s fall and all - it was such a shock to all of us. It was Ken that found her, poor love; he went as white as a sheet, no use, like most men, in a crisis. He just stood there opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, fortunately me and Hermione were there, you know Hermione in the first floor bed sit?
”
enquired Mary.

“
Um no, I
’
ve not had the pleasure yet
”
Katie replied.

“
Pleasure - huh!
”
grunted Mary,
“
not so much a pleasure as an endurance but, none the less, there she was and with that mobile phone thingy at least she could ring the ambulance straight away. I can tell you I was worried about her.
”

“
Hermione?
”
asked Katie after getting lost in the story telling again.

“
No, no, my dear, Mo - your grandma.
She looked terrible and all at a funny angle. Anyway that
’
s why I popped round as soon as saw a light on, to see how she was
”
Mary finally came up for air. Katie reflected that Mary must have been sitting outside waiting as she had only put the lamps on five minutes before, but she sensed in Mary a genuine concern and affection for Mo in between all the extraneous chatter and she sought to put her mind at rest.

“
Mo
’
s doing very well, I saw her yesterday she has a broken hip and some other bruises and bangs but she
’
s firmly on the mend and already looking forward to creating havoc on the ward. I
’
m sure she
’
d love some visitors if you wanted to go over and see her.
”
Katie moved towards the door as she spoke, hoping it might encourage Mary to get up and walk through it, but she was looking thoroughly settled at the kitchen table. It didn
’
t seem to have the required effect, in fact, quite the opposite as Mary turned towards the centre of the table and looked around expectantly.

“
Has that kettle just boiled my dear? I could murder a cuppa
”
suggested Mary, Katie knew she was beaten and resignedly got another mug out of the cupboard and fetched her own to refill.

“
I really would like to go and see Mo at St Thomas
’
s;
”
Mary sighed
“Mo
’s always been so kind to us, inviting us in for tea and biscuits.
”
Katie went straight to the biscuit tin and put it on the table,
“
making sure the flat was ok,
”
Mary continued
“
watching out when we were away, always making time for a chat. I really would like to go and see her. I
’
ll get Ken to check the bus timetables; we can make a little trip out of it.
”
Mary seemed so genuinely excited by the thought of this little outing that Katie
realised
Mary had probably missed Mo very much over the last couple of days. She doubtless didn
’
t get to go to many places or see many people. Katie
’
s reserve melted as she saw the real concern in Mary
’
s round and lively face.