A Glass of Milk

A Glass of Milk

Life isnt just challenging for those in need, but for those around them as well. Vera Chapman learnt this long agoshes been working with social services for eight years now. Over that time, shes run off her feet, lost weight, become sharp-tongued, and picked up the art of sarcasm, especially with anyone who dares criticise her work. And who are you to discuss my job? shell ask anyone nosy enough, fixing them with a piercing glance from beneath her auburn fringe. At that, most quickly abandon their curiosity or simply bolt, not knowing exactly where or why. Hence the nickname everyone gave her: Vera the Plague.

Throughout the years, Veras shopped for groceries for her clients, cleaned their flats if need be, and got on with everyone. Only once had there been troublean elderly gent gave her a bar of chocolate as a gift. Accepting presents was strictly forbidden, and Vera had never taken anything from anyone, but that oncea weak moment, and she couldnt bring herself to refuse given how earnestly hed offered for the sake of Christ. Vera took the chocolate home but found she couldnt break off a single pieceeach time she tried, it stuck in her throat. In the end, she gave it to the neighbours boy and from then on, firmly declined gifts again. The old man, not pleased, complained to the social services office, claiming, Nowadays a bar of chocolate isnt enough for home carerstheyre angling for a cash-filled envelope”

Vera nearly lost her job over it but didnt even argue. Go on then, sack me. I wont lose any sleep. Im a person, not a doormat! she said. But her other clients intervenedchief among them was Anna Fletcher. Vera had always liked Anna, but after that episode, Anna became like a sister she’d never had.

Both of them knew misfortune welleach had lost her parents young. Anna, disabled since childhood, longed for a normal life, while Vera had an outwardly robust constitution, but a wounded, anxious, forever-weeping soul. The only thing that truly brought them close was the absence of children. Vera accepted it long ago, but Anna was still fighting. Often, Anna scolded Vera if she gave in to melancholy. Anna grew braver after joining the local rehab centres drama club for a performance. At first, shed been unwillingeven Father Luke, who often visited her with prayers and Christmas parcels, advised her to stick to embroidery, calling it the perfect activity for her. Annas hands were awkward, but she had dedication. She started with table linens, handkerchiefs, then decorated a linen dress with subtle patternsreds and emerald green birds. It was so beautiful, the dress was featured in a county folk art show, where it won first prize before being soldwith Annas consent, of course. When they brought her a tidy sum in pounds, Anna called Vera in tears, feeling overwhelmed by her first-ever earnings.

Dont fret, Vera laughed, then turned serious, Well put that money to good use. Well buy a few more dresses, keep you busy for a year at least. Otherwise, youve been letting all sorts go round in your mind latelythinking about what you shouldnt.

Anna didnt reply, though the words stung. How could they not, when for some time, Anna had been wishing for a husband. She dreamt of being part of a couple; she knew from television how people in love spoke with each other, but for her, it was all out of reach.

After her exhibition successes, the rehab centre called her, inviting her to join the dance club and try preparing a couples dance routine.

Is that even possible? Surely not! Anna exclaimed and hung up, certain she was the butt of some cruel joke.

But the calls kept coming, urging her to tryif it didnt work, no one would force her.

Who knows, you might just surprise yourself! cajoled the brusque woman on the phone. Youre a prize-winner nowtime to expand your talents! Weve sorted things with social servicesyour carer can accompany you to rehearsals.

Who will I be dancing with?

Someone in a similar situation We have several pairs like that. In our country, no one is left behind! Everyone does what they can! the woman declared with such stubborn optimism Anna had no choice but to sigh, Well, alright, Ill try.

Splendid! My name is Margaret Josephson, I head up the club. Be ready to leave after lunch tomorrowthe minibus will collect you!

Right on cue the next day, a frowning, greying driver arrived, his hair almost militarily shaved. Without a hatshe worried it would spoil her freshly curled, neat hairAnna let Vera, whod just taken out her curlers, help her to the minibus. There was already a man in a wheelchair on boardher prospective dance partner, Alex. Blushing furiously, she greeted him and was almost startled by his strong handshake.

Once they reached the community centre, the driver and Vera helped Anna inside, up the ramp and all the way to the rehearsal room, while Alex deftly handled his own chair.

At first, rehearsals were awkward; Anna sweated, blushed, and tried to follow the musics beat, but the simplest moves seemed impossibly hard. She felt embarrassed in front of tall, willow-like Chloe, the energetic instructor, Alex, and fleetingly, Margaret, who darted around organising everyone. But Anna stuck with itweek in, week out, through autumn and winter, with Vera by her side all the way. Eventually, rehearsals became like a beloved routine. Anna gave up embroidery for a whileshe couldnt imagine life without dancing now.

Today, as usual, shes waiting for Vera. Vera arrives in a grumpy silence, as if these practices have become a burden. Finally, Anna cant help but prod:

Why are you sulking?

Not sulking, Vera insists, trying to wipe the frown from her brow.

Noting Veras mood, Anna changes tack, Come on, were only forty! We could both still find someone!

Youre still banging on about that Seven years married, and he left me. He was right, too. Serves me for acting like a lovesick puppy in my youth. Shame my parents never saw their grandchildren.

Thats ancient history now. If I were you, Id marry again in a heartbeat!

Do you ever stop?

If you dont want a husband, you could have a child on your own these days.

Costs a fortune! You think Im rolling in money?

I heard on telly theyre doing those treatments for free now, anyway.

Well talk about it later. What are you wearing for rehearsal?

You never let me finish! Rose jumper and grey skirt.

You should put on that performance dress we had madeyou need to get used to it, its long, after all.

Ill save it for the real dress rehearsal, dont want to ruin it on the bus!

The night before the final rehearsal, they ran through the routine again and again. When they finally got home, Vera helped Anna up to her flat, helped her undress, settled her on a kitchen stool for supper, and made tea, setting out biscuits and sweets. But Anna had something else on her mind.

So what was it like for you, your first time?

My first what?!

With a man Anna turns crimson.

I dont remember

Dont fib. You were married for years, and now Nicholas comes round.

He used to. For a couple of months after the divorce, then he found someone younger. Theres nothing to envy! Vera retorts, gruffly.

I think Alex fancies me, Anna admits, a little proudly. He looks at me that way!

Dark-haired men always like blondes. Dont go there, Anna! Dont let your feelings run away with youitll make you miserable.

Still what was it like?

Drop it. Drink up your tea and get some rest, youre as pale as a ghost.

Anna says nothing more, and Vera recognises the same longing shes warned Anna about is bubbling up. Briskly washing the cups, Vera gets ready to go.

Ill be back at lunchtime tomorrow. Need me to pick anything up? she calls from the door.

You know what I like mutters Anna, closing her eyes.

Get your rest. Tomorrows the big rehearsal!

Anna doesnt reply. Vera, leaving, mutters, Look what dancings done to you! Youll lose your mind at this rate but bites her tongue.

Out on her way home, Vera reconsiders, I really must try to find her someone nice. Shes not as helpless as people think. The way she threw Nicholas in my faceshouldnt have told her anything!

After Vera leaves, Anna feels guilty for snapping at her. Vera hadnt deserved that. Butwho can Anna talk to, really, about whats on her heart? If only I could write poetry, she thinks as tears prick her eyes and her heart clenches, making her almost unable to breathe. She tries to think of anything but Alexbut his neatly cropped hair and warm brown eyes haunt her, as do his strong, dependable hands. Anna remembers how, at first, she feared she’d fall as they whirled to the first chords of the waltz, but with Alex, nothing seemed frightening. The more praise she receivedChloe always cheered, Youre doing well! like an encouraging schoolteacherthe more Anna truly felt she could dance.

Anna had mastered the routine by nowshed grown used to Alex, to Vera sitting in the hall, even to the chatty electrician in his orange overalls rattling around backstage.

Thinking ahead to tomorrows final rehearsal, Annas anxiety stirs; will it all go alright? And what comes after? Will she ever see Alex except here? Could she invite him round, let all the neighbours see that she, too, had a gentleman caller? Or will all her happiness begin and end with rehearsal? Determined, she resolves she must do her best tomorrow so that shed always be welcome back.

Morning comes, and Anna lays out her performance dressa deep violet silk, sparkling with sequins and beads. Just to be sure, she double-checks every seam. As she handles the dress, its so elegant and slippery it nearly slips from her handsshe imagines, just for a moment, how shell look. But the thought of what comes after makes her nervous again. She must focus on the music, on Alexshe cant afford a single mistake that would prompt Well, what did you expect from anyone in the audience.

Shed have lingered in that reverie for hours, but the jangle of a key in the front door breaks her focus.

So, superstar, ready for the big rehearsal? Vera asks with her trademark mix of roughness and affection.

I suppose Im just a bit nervous

Its good to be nervousmeans youre not a block of wood. Now, lets get moving.

They take ages to get ready and ask the perpetually grumbling driver to come earlyAnna wants to be the first person changed into her costume backstage, to get used to it and quash her nerves. Yet, when they arrive at the arts centre, Anna feels everyone is staringnot only at her and Alex in his sharp black suit and bow tie, but at the woman with him.

Backstage, Alex wheels himself over, kisses Annas cheek and whispers, Dont worry, its all going to be grand.

Anna nods automatically, her cheek burning where hes touched her; she wants to put her hand there to cool it off. Then she feels a hand on her shoulder, opens her eyesleaning on a stick beside her is Alexs companion.

Dont worry, the woman says gently. Youll do great!

And you are? Anna asks, fear tightening her voice.

Alex, as if reading her mind, says, Annathis is my wife, Susan.

Anna nods with respect and finally, in the stage lights, sees a wedding ring on Alexs right hand, although shes never noticed it before. All her hopes are dashed in an instanther breath catches, her head swims

When she comes round, shes looking up at worried faces, then sags back.

Whats happened to Anna Fletcher? Can someone answer me? demands Margaret Josephson, usually so caring but now more like a dry stick, snappish and afraid.

She needs to go home, says Vera firmly. Shes exhausted, surely you can see that!

She needs a doctor, not a nap! Get her sorted and bring her back outsix months of work, Im not changing the order for anything!

Either from those words or on her own, Anna opens her eyes. She still avoids everyones gaze and answers nothing. In the bus home, she finally nudges Vera:

Wheres Alex?

He stayed to do the dance with his old partner. Youre like some fainting Victorian maiden! Never mind. This is for the best. Those daft rehearsals did you no good, just as Father Luke said! Vera scolds sharply.

And now Anna is upset with her.

When the driver helps Vera get Anna into her flat, Anna still in her velvet dress, she collapses onto the bed.

Well, thats us done, then? the driver jokes with a rare smile.

Yes, all done Off you go! Vera shoos him away and sits by Anna. Are you going to tell me whats happened?

After a time of silent weeping, Anna finally speaksclear and simple, Alex is married

Vera nearly laughs in relief, having feared something truly dire had happened.

So what, youd built castles in the air? Ready to be swept off your feet?

Leave me alone! Go away!

Vera stays anyway, but Anna insists again, Go awayand never come back. I dont need you. Youre just a horrible plague!

If Anna had shouted, Vera might have believed her. But as it is, she only squeaks out the words. Still, Vera cant help but feel stung. She knows Anna well after all these years, knows that these unkind words come from pain. Yet, it hurtsespecially to be called plague.

Well, thank you, Miss Fletcher! Vera says bitterly.

She puts on her coat and, on the walk home, her legs feel like lead. Ill ask to be taken off her case tomorrow, she thinks. Or just quit social services. I was offered a job at the nurseryafter training college I did just fine with children, and no one called me plague!

At home, shes too tired to cookshe has tea and biscuits, then flops on the sofa, exhausted by all that days drama. She dozes, and as she drifts off, she thinks, Let her live on her own for a day or twosee how she likes it. Shes had it her way far too long

Vera is woken by the phoneits Father Luke, and his tone frightens her in the evening hush.

Vera, you must come round to Anna at onceshe needs taking to hospital

Fear squeezes Veras chestshe suddenly realises shed left Annas flat unlocked. Something has gone terribly wrong. She throws on her things, runs outside, and, as an ambulance flashes by, wonders, Could that be for her? At Annas block, she finds a police car, the priest, and a few worried neighbours.

Whats happened to Anna? she asksFather Luke looks even taller in his clerical hat.

Seems to be poisoning She called me and said she felt unwell and asked me to come round. I let myself inshe was unconscious, with a bottle of pills beside her Called the ambulance and police.

A lantern-jawed police sergeant in a snug uniform comes over.

And youre?

Her home carersocial worker. I visit herI found her like this.

So she tried to take her life, did she!?

She lives like an angelwhy would she?!

Somebody drove her to it. Well get to the bottom of it. You got keys?

I do

Good. Lets go in, turn off the electrics, lock up. Ill seal the door, then need a statement from you.

But I left only an hour agoshe was fine.

Clearly not that fine. Well cross-check your account with hers, if she comes round.

He ushers Vera inside, taking the neighbours as witnesses.

Unplug the fridge too, orders the policeman.

But the food will spoil!

Put it on the balcony, then.

When Vera steps onto the balcony with her arms full, she spots Annas mobile.

I should bring her phone to the hospital.

Leave everything as it is.

She does as told, watches the officer seal the door, and thanks Father Luke as they part. In the police station, she gives her statement; the reading officer cracks a half-smile.

Heartbreak, was it? Is that all?

What else? Vera retorts, crossing herself.

Well, then, nothing for us to look into. You can go home.

But instead of home, Vera takes a cab straight to the hospital. In A&E, she asks the nurse at the phone,

Has Anna Fletcher been admitted?

The one who tried to poison herself? Shes in intensive care now, having her stomach pumped. Shes come round, though.

Oh, thank goodness! Can I see her?

Not a chance, love. Be a few days before visitors, if they move her to a ward. There’s a flu quarantine on, anyway. Are you her sister?

Just a friend

Well, thats something. We thought she was all alone, the nurse mutters drowsily.

May I bring her wheelchair, then? Shes disabled, you know.

The hospitals got enough wheelchairs! Give us a ring when shes being discharged.

Relieved, Vera goes home but feels only gloomher flat is cold and strangely empty. Theres no one to call. She spends half the night staring at her silent phone. In the morning, she calls the office to update themIm Annas contact, dont assign her to anyone else.

Shes still officially yours, dont fret, her manager reassures her.

Every day, Vera calls the hospital, checking on Anna, but Anna herself doesnt call. On the fourth day, an unfamiliar woman rings Vera.

Is that Chapman?

Speaking.

This is Anna Fletchers nurseshe asked for you. We cant let you in, but feel free to wave through the window. Shes on the second floor of the general block, third window from the left, opposite the main entrance, one oclock.

Thank you so much! Anything I can bring?

Nothing at all; wards in quarantine. Not even flowersno exceptions.

By lunchtime, Vera has zipped through her morning rounds and is standing below Annas window. Nobody is thereshe considers tossing a snowball, but then Anna appearspale, worn, but eyes shining. She mouths something, waves; then shows a piece of paper through the glass, with one word scrawled huge: SORRY. Vera waves back, fakes a frown as if to say, Dont worry about it, but cant stop herself from grinning with reliefAnna is herself again. When Anna gestures for her to go, Vera, with a lump in her throat and tears of joy burning her eyes, finally turns and walks away.

She crunches through the melting snowsenses sharpened unexpectedly by the sunlight reflecting off the shop fronts, the old pub, the golden weathervane on the church roof. Vera is flooded with warmth: spring is here, real spring, and the worst of winter is over for good. She looks at the world with new eyeswhat happened is past, and her heart is light again. No more reason to be miserable now! she decides, brushing away leftover tears before breaking into a smile. Honestly, that Annas such a nuisancewhat a stubborn old goat!She turns the corner toward home, feeling the weight in her chest finally melt away. All through the evening she imagines how shell care for Anna when shes released: shell bring her fresh pajamas, fix her favorite porridge with just enough honey, open the windows wide for proper air and sunlight. Shell not scold, only tease softly, and wont let Anna brood or fall silent for more than a minute.

Next morning, Vera awakes early and bakes sweet breadjust as her mother used to when she wanted to apologize without words. She wraps the warm loaf in a clean linen cloth, tucks it in her bag, and sets out for the hospitaljust for a wave beneath the window, to show shes there. Anna is waiting. This time, through the glass, she presses a hand to her chest, then stretches it out as if offering part of her heart. Vera grins, holds up the parcel, and mouths, For you! Though Anna cant hear, she seems to understand. She laughsa real laugh that even the glass cant muffle.

Later, when Anna finally comes home, the flat is spotless, a jug of daffodilsillicit, but brighton the table. For a moment, neither woman says a word. Vera takes Annas jacket, helps her to her favorite chair by the window. The silence is gentle, not heavy. Outside, the sun is finding its way into every forgotten shadow.

Then, Anna looks up.

Thank you, she whispers, her voice husky but certain.

Vera shrugs, pretending to brush a crumb from her cheek. You still owe me that waltz.

Annas smile widens. And you owe me forgiveness.

They sit together, letting the words settle. In that hush, toast and sweet bread between them, Vera pours milk into two glasses.

Heres to second chances, she says quietly.

And as their glasses touch, the world beyond the window seems to lean in, listeningfor the laughter, for the tears, for the unspoken promises between old friends, for the small bright part of hope that, against all odds, remains.