Judith Wants To Be Your Friend (7 page)

‘Well, that explains the store float being over,’ she says with relief, ‘but who signed the band around that bundle?’

Mary Morris handed it to her. ‘You, if I am not very much mistaken.’

My day is made. Even if it wasn’t Spanish tonight, today would be the best day of the week.

Spanish class is quite hilarious. We learn to talk about hobbies so I mention my interest in art, just to continue a theme, and say I enjoy going to the cinema. Joanna says she enjoys keeping fit, cooking and going to the cinema. Something else in common; I’ll store that one away for another day. I say that I have been to see
This Is It
and someone else says they have been to see
Men Who Stare at Goats
. Nobody knows the words for ‘stare’ or ‘goats’ so it turns into a bit of a charades game. I think it is the first time I have genuinely laughed out loud for months. When Ken asks the inevitable question tomorrow I will tell him that’s what I want to go and see this week.

Thursday 12
th
November 2009

It really is getting a bit too cold to be hanging around in a park but I do it anyway just in case she is there with Ricky. I decide against taking a sandwich, and plan to suggest going to a cafe for lunch if I do see them. I wear my new boots so at least my feet will be warm. After a brisk walk around the bowling green and tennis court I spot two heads of red hair by the kiosk and turn to walk in that direction. Ricky sees me; really, children are so observant.

He shouts, ‘Granny, Granny, look.’

At first I think he’s calling me ‘Granny’. Bloody cheek, I’m only about ten years older than his mother, then I realise that he is talking to a woman who is quite obviously his granny. The family likeness is so striking down the generations. She looks worried as Ricky runs off towards me and she tries to catch him up but he is too quick. As he reaches me, he stops, suddenly shy. I realise I have to act quickly.

‘Hello Ricky,’ I say casually, ‘are you having a race with that girl?’

‘What girl?’ he asks.

‘The one with the same colour hair as you. Is she your sister or something?’

That does the trick. He bursts into fits of giggles and catches his granny’s hand as she draws level with us.

‘Granny, Judith thinks you’re my sister!’ and he can’t say anything else for laughing.

It breaks the ice with Joanna’s mum and me. She introduces herself as Gaynor, and says she is Joanna’s mum in case I didn’t realise. I say that I do realise and Ricky takes one hand of each of us and drags us down to the fairly insignificant duck pond.

‘We should go to the other park, Ricky,’ says Gaynor, ‘there are swans there and lots more ducks.’

‘I know, Granny, but everyone feeds
them
. Nobody likes these ducks so they’ll be hungry if we don’t come and feed them.’

Bless!

I ask Gaynor which park she means and she tells me about Hammond’s Pond at Upperby, off Blackwell Road. I have no idea where she means, but I show interest and chat for a while until it gets too cold for all of us.

As we part I ask whether Joanna is working today and she says no, and that she has gone down with the cold that’s going round.

‘I had it a few weeks ago,’ I say. ‘It knocked me out for a fortnight.’

She makes a face and says she hopes Joanna won’t be ill for that long as she has to work on Friday evening and all day Saturday. I say that I have to work on Saturday too but if it would help I could sit with Ricky on Friday evening. She hesitates, not wanting to appear to mistrust me but clearly not able to let Ricky go to a stranger.

‘That’s really kind of you, Judith. I know Joanna likes you a lot; she’s told me about Spanish class. But I couldn’t ask you to…’

‘To what, Gaynor? I’m not suggesting I take Ricky anywhere but if it would help I could come to Joanna’s house and sit with him until his bedtime; just so that she wouldn’t have to run around after him or entertain him.’

‘Would you really? I’d prepare his tea and get him into his pyjamas early. It would really be just babysitting from about five-thirty until nine-thirty, and he will go to bed at seven.’

‘It’s no problem, honestly. I’m not doing anything tomorrow night. I’m on the early shift at work so will be finished by three. Just tell me where to be and I’ll be there for five-thirty.’

‘Oh thank you, Judith. I’ll prepare you some dinner as well.’

Well, well, well, there’s a turn up for the books. The thought of babysitting fills me with dread but we can read books or something, or whatever one does with four-year-olds in the evening.

Friday 13
th
November 2009

I make sure that work is uneventful today so that I can get away on time. Maureen disappeared for about an hour during the morning and we think Mary Morris was having a chat with her about the two mistakes with money in the last month. Her eyes look bloodshot when she comes back in so I tactfully don’t look at her. That’s not difficult of course. There are no problems with banking or cash reconciliation today and there won’t be for a few more weeks then her carelessness may take a more sinister turn. I haven’t quite decided what to do yet so I concentrate on being the perfect cashier.

I get the No. 76 bus from the car park at Stanwix all the way to Cumrew Close. I follow Gaynor’s directions and turn down the narrow lane past a small play area into the next close. Joanna lives at No. 8, a fairly small terraced house with a crazy paving path leading to a new white UPVC door. As I approach the front door Gaynor opens it and ushers me in. Ricky runs up to say hello then runs up the stairs to tell his mum (or ‘mam’ as he calls her) that I have arrived. We were never allowed to call our mother ‘mam’.

‘Come back here, Ricky,’ Gaynor calls after him, ‘leave your mam to sleep.’

He peeps in on her to confirm that she is actually sleeping then bumps back down the stairs on his backside.

‘He’s had his tea,’ she tells me, ‘but he can have some pudding and a drink of milk between now and seven. That’s all though; Joanna is very strict about that.’

‘Fine with me,’ I agree pleasantly. Then to Ricky I say, ‘What books do you like to read Ricky? If you haven’t got any I can read you some of my book. I brought it with me.’ This sets him off giggling as usual. Really, it’s like feeding candy to a baby as the saying goes.

Gaynor is wearing her M&S uniform and seems happy that Ricky and I are getting along well. She gets ready to catch the next bus into town.

‘I’ll be back shortly after nine-thirty. I get a lift back so I don’t need to wait for the bus.’

‘OK,’ I say, ‘we’ll be fine. I used to babysit for my niece when she was small. Please don’t worry.’

As the evening goes on, Ricky plays me up a bit asking for sweets and more drinks but I stick to the rules. I wouldn’t like to be caught out on a technicality. There are plenty more mistakes that I am likely to make, but not following instructions isn’t one of them. We read books and play with his wooden train set then at seven I watch him clean his teeth, rather badly, then watch him sneak in to give Joanna a soft kiss goodnight so as not to wake her up. She is awake though, and gives him a weak hug.

‘Judith,’ she croaks, ‘thank you so much for this.’

‘No problem,’ I reply quietly, ‘but can I get you anything?’

‘No, I’m OK. I’ll go straight back to sleep now I know Ricky’s in bed.’ Her head sinks into her pillow.

‘I’m going to eat the meal your mum left me then read my book. She’ll be back in no time. See you Monday night.’

She nods and I shut the door quietly behind me.

‘Judith,’ whines a little voice, ‘please may I have a drink of water?’

‘No, Ricky, time to go to sleep.’

‘But I need one.’

‘If you still need one when Granny gets back you can ask her,’ I say firmly to imply that is the end of the conversation and go downstairs.

Gaynor has paid for a taxi to take me home and it arrives at the same time as her so we have little time for small talk. I assure her that everything is fine, she thanks me again, and I thank her for the taxi.

Monday 16
th
November 2009

Joanna doesn’t turn up at Spanish. I explain to Senor Rossi and he teaches us some Spanish words for common ailments. It is not as amusing as last week.

Saturday 21
st
November 2009

It’s a busy day in the cash office. They reckon that people are starting to stock up for Christmas already. We have had Christmas goods in for a few weeks so I suppose it must be true. I think about Christmas; mother in the nursing home now, sister not speaking to me, niece embarrassed by me. It’s going to be great. I was in two minds when Maureen discussed the Christmas rota. On the one hand, I feel like flying away somewhere hot like I did last year but on the other hand the other staff will want time off with their children and I can command favours later as payback. I can earn some extra money doing overtime too, and am less likely to spend it if I’m cooped up in here all day and every day.

‘Are you listening, Judith?’

I realise that Maureen is looking at me and has probably just asked me whether I have finished balancing my cash, or asked what time I want to go for lunch, or one more of her daily questions.

‘Yes,’ I say vaguely, ‘all done.’

‘What?’

‘Yes, I’ve balanced. Isn’t that what you said?’

‘No, it isn’t! You weren’t listening to a word.’

‘I didn’t hear you. Say again.’

‘Didn’t hear me? There’s only us here.’

‘I was miles away. Anyway, I’m listening now.’ I turn and make deliberate eye contact, and hold it for longer than is necessary or polite. She looks flustered, as though she has to brace herself to start it all again.

‘I see you’ve been to the pictures with Ken three times this month.’

I continue to stare at her but I am rather impressed; she has taken me completely by surprise.

‘Pardon?’ I say just to buy a few more seconds of thinking time.

‘You heard. What’s going on?’

‘Yes, I heard, but I meant ‘I beg your pardon’ as in ‘what has it got to do with you’?’

‘It is to do with me, Judith, because it is frowned upon.’

‘What is?’

‘Going out with management.’

Wow, that’s twice in the space of five minutes that she has taken me by surprise. I really am slipping.

‘Frowned upon?’ I sound incredulous. ‘It’s not the Middle Ages, Maureen, or the Industrial Revolution. In fact, it’s the twenty-first century. Who frowns on it? You?’

‘No, management frowns on it.’

‘Oh, management frowns on management fraternising with the mere mortals. That makes sense.’ I reach for the policies manual that gathers dust on the shelf above Maureen’s desk. ‘Has Ken asked you to speak to me about it?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Oh, has Mary Morris asked you to speak to me about it?’

‘No, she hasn’t. Stop this, Judith, you know exactly what I’m saying.’

‘Yes, I rather think I do know what you’re saying, actually!’ I start flicking through the pages of the weighty file.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m looking for where it says that in the policies manual. In fact, perhaps you would find it for me? I really wouldn’t know which section to look in.’

‘Of course it’s not in the policies manual. Really Judith, I think you try to be difficult sometimes.’

Sometimes?
‘Do you really think that, Maureen?’ I turn on the eye contact treatment again but this time with a softer tone to my voice.

‘No, of course not. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, and I know you’ve had a difficult time over the last year or two.’

God, Witch-woman, you don’t know the half of it!
I look away to indicate that I may be feeling a little upset and luckily the buzzer goes and we see Sal on our CCTV monitor waiting to be let in.

Monday 23
rd
November 2009

Joanna returns to the fold that is the Spanish class tonight with a box of chocolates for me. It’s a thank you present for babysitting and is a nice thought. She isn’t to know that I don’t much care for chocolates, but it gives me an excuse to appear nice so I share them with the whole group

‘You must come for dinner one night, Judith, so that you can be a proper guest in my house instead of the babysitter.’

‘Thank you, Joanna. I’d like that,’ I say as we walk away from Trinity School to our respective homes.

‘We’ll arrange it really soon. Oh no, look at the time! I’ll have to run or I’ll miss the bus. Bye.’ And with that, she literally runs all the way up the road towards the bust stop.
God, the energy
, I think as I turn towards the underpass and start the long ascent up the hill, over the bridge and into the estate that I call home.

Wednesday 25
th
November 2009

Ken and I go to see
Lesbian Vampire Killers
, which he tells me is supposed to be hilarious. I think it’s pathetic but don’t say so. I didn’t really want to go out at all tonight as he is getting a bit too friendly, wanting to hold my hand and put his arm round me in the cinema. I thought he was going to try to kiss me last week but he didn’t, thank God. The trouble is I need to keep this going for a while if I am going to irritate Maureen for a bit longer. I really need her to dislike me a bit more and put the other staff in a difficult position regarding loyalties.
That’s the trouble with you, Judith, you don’t know when to stop with your stupid pranks!
My mother’s voice again, but I’m on a roll and I can’t stop quite yet. I don’t mean any real harm; I really don’t. Anita and Sal quite like me now and have told Maureen that they don’t know what her problem is with me. Ken told me that. He overheard them in the canteen. Careless talk, Maureen, is something you will never accuse me of. I pretended to be a bit upset at that and say I don’t know why she doesn’t like me. I don’t tell him about her little chat with me. If he finds out I can pretend I was too embarrassed by it to tell him.