Chapter 16
After being buzzed through at reception by manager Julie, who said she’d catch up with Cath before she left to run over a couple of details on the tea event, Cath entered the day room.
She gave Reggie a big wave, and said her ‘hellos’ around the lounge.
Spotting Joan lifting her face to smile at Cath broadly and expectantly, she couldn’t resist choosing the wingback chair next to her this morning.
Cath tried to share her time around the room, and its various occupants, as fairly as she could.
‘Good morning, Joan.’
‘Hello, pet. And how are you?’
‘I’m fine, thanks.’ The phrase that covered and smothered a thousand feelings, and let life carry on. She managed a smile. ‘And you? How are you doing, my lovely.’
‘Eeh, I’m getting by. Stiff in the joints, but that’s all those turnips I pulled, back up in the day.
No wonder I’m all bent up. Hard work that was.
’ Joan loved reminiscing about her Women’s Land Army days, the reason she’d left Newcastle-upon-Tyne and came up to the Kirkton area in the first place.
‘Aye, I remember getting off that bus, on the Kirkton High Street, and thinking, “Crikey, there’s only one street. Where are all the shops, and the people?” I’d come from Newcastle, you see.
“Well, I’ll not be here long,” I declared to myself.
And look at me. In my nineties, and I never bloomin’ well left. ’ She gave a chuckle.
Cath grinned. She’d heard the story before and loved it.
Joan had also told her all about meeting and marrying the handsome young farmer, and about their two children, a son and daughter.
Cath’d even met her daughter, Joanna, here on a visit.
Oh yes, life’s rich tapestry of experience and history was jam-packed within these walls, if you just took the time to sit, listen and chat … between the inevitable naps, that was.
Linda came in with a trolley laden with teacups and biscuits, and a big stainless-steel pot. ‘Tea time, everyone.’
‘Morning, Linda. Hope you’re fine?’ asked Cath, as the carer reached them. ‘Joan, would you like a tea?’
‘Yes, lass.’
‘And I’d love a cup too, please, if that’s all right,’ said Cath. She felt more than ready for a brew.
‘Of course, petal,’ answered Linda, adding, ‘Biscuits, ladies? Help yourselves.’
Joan’s shaky hand reached for a couple of Bourbons. ‘Don’t mind if I do.’
And Cath chose a comforting custard cream.
‘Have we had lunch yet?’ Joan then asked. Her day-to-day memory poor, yet the distant past still crystal clear to her.
‘No, pet, that’s coming later,’ Linda responded kindly. ‘Tea and biscuits for now.’
Joan gave a nod. Then said, ‘The food at the hostel was good. Filled you right up after a hard day’s work.’
‘I bet it did,’ said Cath, realising that Joan had drifted back to the past.
‘Oh, and we couldn’t wait for a Friday night …
the weekend. Hard times, hard work, but we also had so much fun.
’ Her weathered face broke into a smile.
‘We had dances and everything. Friday night at the Archibold Hall and a late pass ’til eleven.
The German Prisoner of War chaps played all sorts of instruments.
And then at the RAF base … Milfield, they had a band and everything.
Oh, and the music, it was wonderful. The dancing …
’ She paused, to look up at Cath. ‘It was like we knew times were bloody hard, but we had to make the best of it … No use crying over spilt milk.’
‘It sounds an incredible time. Difficult, but filled with so many special moments and memories too,’ said Cath.
‘It was, pet. It truly was.’ The old lady took a sip of her tea.
And Cath thought of how they’d had to deal with all that worry back then, with husbands, sons and lovers going away, and you never knew if you were going to see them again, or what horrors they were facing.
And yet still they danced, and looked forward, and believed in the better!
Cath felt enchanted and touched by these memories of the war-time tea dances.
This lovely, nostalgic conversation, over a nice cup of tea and a custard cream, was already buoying her up.
Even though Joan had, of course, no idea about the worry she was holding within about Will.
‘Aren’t we having a dance soon, so I heard?’ Joan then asked. ‘Is it back at Milfield?’
‘No, not Milfield, but we are planning a dance and an afternoon tea at the Tilldale Village Hall in a few weeks’ time.’
‘Oh yes, that’s it. We’ve been asked to put our names down. Is mine on the list, Linda?’ she called across the room.
‘Yes, you’re on, Joan. We wouldn’t dare miss you out,’ the carer called back.
‘Splendid. Will that lovely couple from the shop be there? The two boys, proper gentlemen they were. And the little lads who were elves … when was that now? I’m getting rather confused.’
‘That was our Christmas lunch, Joan. And yes, I think they’ll all be there. Perhaps not dressed as elves though,’ replied Cath, with a warm smile.
‘Oh, well, I’m sure it’ll be lovely, anyhow. Be like the good old days. Those Land Army tea dances.’
‘Yes, the tea party, it’s proving very popular, after your wonderful Christmas do!’ exclaimed Reggie from a few chairs down, with an excited twinkle in his eye.
Cath was ready to head over there next, remembering to tell him all about his gorgeous garden in bloom.
‘It is indeed,’ added Linda, bringing the upcoming event back to mind. ‘In fact, we might need to order an extra minibus.’
Oh crikey, Cath could feel another batch of scones, and a request for more of Lily’s strawberry-cream sponges, and in fact anyone who could help out with bakes, coming on.
But bless, it was lovely that the residents here were all so excited about the afternoon tea.
Life was short – and oh, how much more was that sinking in now with Will’s troubling diagnosis.
It was a lesson to enjoy life while you can.
So yes, Cath thought, the more the bloody merrier.