Chapter 19
Hetty had taken the bracelet off. It was the only item in a small jewellery box on her bedside table.
It had been a few weeks, and as she’d said to a smiling Doctor Ansari on her follow-up visit, things were decidedly looking up.
In fact, it was as though a weight had been lifted from her chest, her back, even her legs.
That evening, in a continuation of Hetty’s introduction to the culinary delights of the modern age, they were assembled around the kitchen table in front of a large bucket of KFC.
‘I’ve been thinking, Aunts. It’s possible Etta will keep the bracelet on indefinitely. Since I’ve decided to give this age a go, I need to decide upon a course of action.’
Aggie put her cutlery down while Jemima paused, drumstick halfway to her mouth.
‘Well, let’s brainstorm,’ Aggie said, as she took a sip of Sprite from her elegant high ball glass.
‘Brainstorm? That sounds … somewhat alarming …?’
Aggie snorted. ‘A turn of phrase. I think we should get you across some idioms.’
‘Out of the house, too,’ added Jemima, carefully selecting a fourth drumstick.
‘Hmm,’ Aggie continued. ‘It’s not like you don’t have enough money to keep you going, dear. So you need to decide on your field of study. But whatever you do, you will need to start near the bottom I’m afraid.’
‘Yup,’ interrupted Jemima, mouth half full of chicken, slurping from her paper straw. ‘No degree. No O-levels, even.’
‘Yes. That seems like Step One, then.’
Hetty was confused. ‘What are you referring to? My education?’
‘Lack thereof, yes, my dear,’ Aggie said. ‘Without being able to use a computer, everything is difficult.’
‘I can use this “mobile” contraption. I can speak to it correctly now and it tells me the weather and I can purchase things.’ Hetty paused, not feeling quite as strong in her defiance as she would have liked.
She rallied. ‘And it looks up terminology I don’t understand in the newspapers.
So I am very well aware of the definition of a … compt-eur.’
Jemima snorted on a chip while Aggie took another sip of Sprite before replying. ‘Let’s start there. Perhaps it’s time for you to start those classes we talked about?’
‘Ooh, yes, Aggie,’ Jemima said. ‘You saw that one at the adult learning centre down the road, remember, when you were doing your Advanced C++ course? Computer Beginnings for Basics, wasn’t it?’
‘Computer Basics for Beginners. Yes, I think that will do just fine. And when you can use computers properly, my dear, we can have you study for your O-levels at home – or you can go to a local college. Get you out of the house, like Jemima said.’
‘And into those dancing shoes, Hetty!’ added Jemima.
And with that, it was decided. Aggie and Hetty picked up their cutlery again and jointly waited for Jemima to make fun of them, but thankfully she was deep into a bag of spicy chicken wings.
‘Never make these spicy enough, do they? I swear to god, Aggie, I’m so sick of KFC. The jerk shop is only around the corner.’
Aggie sniffed. ‘Yes, and when they can adequately replicate a Zinger Tower burger, I’m quite certain they will gain my custom.’
Hetty’s trembling index finger pressed the button on the dirty white door next to the jerk chicken shop.
She tried to peer through the glass around the sign saying iLearn IT: Taking you from D- to C++.
This was the most afraid she’d been since the terrifying morning she’d first found herself on the London Underground. That seemed like a lifetime ago now.
Before she could worry for too much longer, she heard thumping on the stairs and the door was flung wide open. A cheerful, cherubic face surrounded by a riot of tight black curls peeked around the doorframe.
‘Nice to meet you. I’m Stella. Here for the computer course?’
Hetty had no idea what to say, but thankfully it seemed like she didn’t need to say anything.
Which really was very lucky, she thought, as Stella was quite the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen.
She was used to the pale, slim, fashionable, insipid young ladies her mother had tried to get her to befriend.
Women with nothing to say, and to whom she had nothing with which to reply.
Stella, on the other hand, spoke loudly without even opening her mouth. Short and plump and delicious, she looked like the juiciest pear on the tree she used to sit underneath in her father’s orchard. She wore a scandalously tight green dress and equally scandalous sleek high heels.
Hetty breathed in the scent of lemons and freshly picked mint as Stella stared at her.
‘You’re here for the computer course, right?’
Hetty nodded dumbly.
‘Great.’
Stella closed the door behind Hetty, still looking intrigued.
‘Must say, you might not have much in common with the other students. Are you sure you’ve got the right day? It’s beginner level today.’
‘Yes, quite … quite sure.’
Stella shrugged, then led Hetty up the narrow set of stairs and down an even narrower corridor to a small white room. It was covered in grey carpet tiles, with a huge table in the centre crowded with screens. Elderly people of various shapes and sizes were already sitting in front of them.
She sat down in front of the screen Stella gestured towards and waited until Stella showed the class where to press the small boxes to make the room light up with beeps.
Hetty struggled to keep her eyes away from the woman who inexplicably seemed to take all the oxygen from her lungs, as she tried to get to grips with the small grey device she was expected to scrape across the desk.
Hetty was transfixed by Stella’s dazzling hoop earrings, which swung as she laughed with an old man making an incomprehensible joke about hard drives.
By her bracelets, which jangled and rattled as she stooped to pick up a lady’s fallen mouse.
She forced herself to focus on anything, anyone else, and her eyes met those of the woman next to her instead.
She had a knowing look in her eyes, which Hetty decided to ignore.
‘Now then, ladies and gents,’ said Stella. ‘Computer Basics for Beginners. Let’s talk. I know a lot of you might have phones, but how many of you have used a desktop computer before?’
More than half of the class raised a hand. Hetty was not one of them. She felt her heart sink as she read the collective confusion in their eyes.
‘Right,’ Stella began. ‘Why don’t we go around the room and introduce ourselves? I’d love to know what you’re hoping to do after these lessons. Go online shopping, maybe, or pay your bills? Give me an idea of what you’re looking for.’
Hetty breathed out as the man opposite her started talking. She would have hated to have gone first.
Bill was hoping to Skype his daughter in Australia. Mickey wanted to be able to look up crossword answers. Ruth was looking for bargains, while Nigel wanted to pick up a new language (‘Never too late’). And then, finally, it was Hetty’s turn.
‘I’d like to gain an education. My aunts suggested I study for … O-levels?’
She looked around, expecting judgement, but found none.
‘Called GCSEs now, I think,’ Nigel piped up.
Hetty smiled tremulously. ‘Thank you.’
Stella’s expression was one of curiosity as she moved on to Elsie, the last person in the room, who wanted to find free knitting patterns. As she gave them all headphones and put videos onto their screens, she stopped behind Hetty’s chair.
‘I teach this around my Comms degree course and can definitely help you sign up for uni, too, or the local college or whatever, no problem, Hetty – you could be getting started next week if you’d like. Is there anything else you’d like help with?’
Hetty looked up. ‘I … I’d like to write a diary. I see there is a device here with printed letters. Is it as fast as writing by hand?’
Stella blinked, clearly baffled, and then smiled. ‘Oh, yes, it’s much, much faster. The class is quite short today – but if you’d like, I’d be happy to talk you through how it all works? Help you set up a Substack or something?’
Hetty nodded. ‘Thank you – that would be awfully kind of you.’
Stella’s smile brightened. ‘It’s a date.’
Hetty waited in the café next door, pot of tea ready and waiting, as Stella locked up the classroom. She’d never been so nervous in her life – not even when she’d placed the bracelet around her wrist.
She’d sat with her back to the door in an attempt not to worry too much, but it seemed to have exacerbated her anticipation. She picked out one of every cake on the menu. She hadn’t realised they would come in quite such large slices, but it was far too late now. The table was covered in cake.
And then, a jangle of the bell at the door and the most beautiful woman in the world was sitting opposite her. Hetty could barely speak.
Stella seemed to have forgotten about the ‘Substack’ thing that she was meant to be explaining. Instead, she narrated her way through every cake on the table, noting the pros and cons of every slice, wondering and laughing good-naturedly at Hetty’s extravagance.
Hetty realised Stella was waiting for a reply, and blushed. ‘I’m so terribly sorry, but I was wool-gathering for a moment. What were you saying?’
Stella’s eyes twinkled. ‘Don’t worry, it’s pretty hard to offend me. I said, I’m sure they’ve got boxes so we can take some of this home with us. Or are you just dead hungry?’
‘I didn’t know what you’d like,’ she said, cheeks burning, ‘and I didn’t want to get it wrong.’
Stella laughed. ‘It’s cake – it’s hard to get it wrong when it comes to cake. C’mon, let’s try a bite of everything and you can tell me all about yourself.’
Hetty wasn’t sure how to start. ‘Well, I am newly arrived in town.’
Stella lit up even brighter at this news. Her enthusiasm was infectious. ‘Ohmygod, you have so much to look forward to! Let me be your guide!’
‘I would be terribly grateful if you would. I really have no idea how to go on.’
Stella looked quizzical. ‘Bit posh, aren’t you? In a nice way, I mean,’ she added quickly. ‘Been watching a lot of Downton Abbey, maybe?’
‘What – what’s that?’
Stella’s eyes widened, and she reached across the table impulsively and grabbed Hetty’s hand. As quickly as she’d grabbed it, the touch was gone; they both stared at where they’d connected, where the crackle of electricity remained.
‘It’s … it’s really good. Um, you should watch it. It’s …’
Stella coughed, breaking eye contact; although the moment was over, Hetty found herself tucking it into a little pocket that had formed in her heart. A heart that already felt so much bigger than it had been yesterday.
‘Well, it’s pretty heterosexual, really, but it’s got its moments.’
Heterosexual. A new word, but one Hetty felt she was expected to know. She had taken to writing words down on her phone for times like this, and made a mental note to add this one to the list.
‘I haven’t watched much television, really. I could do with some recommendations. I do feel a little like I’m … stuck in the past, you might say.’
Another person might have ridiculed her, Hetty thought, but not Stella.
They laughed, they chatted, and laughed some more, and Hetty found herself opening up like – well, more like a book than a flower, she thought, marvelling at the pure wonder of it all.
Stella was just constantly amazed – Hetty hadn’t tried sushi, hadn’t been to the cinema?
! – but she didn’t laugh at her, no matter what.
Hetty felt new bookmarks being placed through her pages as Stella gleefully planned a host of activities.
As Stella leaned across the table, planning dinner at a famous local pizza place that ‘has the best pepperoni you’ve ever tried, Hetts’, Hetty breathed in her heady mix of lemon, mint, and hope.