A Glass of Milk

A Glass of Milk

Life isnt easynot just for those down on their luck, but also for those standing beside them. This, Faith Thompson knows well; shes been working for the social care service in Manchester for eight years. Over the years, shes grown thinner, quicker, sharper, and has mastered an acerbic tongue, especially if anyone dares to criticise her work. Who are you to judge my business? shell retort, her intense green eyes burning from under her copper fringe. After a glance like that, people tend to keep their questions to themselves, sometimes even fleeing, unsure why or where. Thats why folks call her Faith the Plague.

All these years, Faith has bought groceries for her clients, cleaned their flats if necessary, and managed to connect with everyone. Only once did an awkward incident arise, after a lonely old gentleman handed her a chocolate bar. Gifts are against the rulesFaith has never accepted them beforebut this time she caved for the sake of kindness. She brought the chocolate home but couldn’t bring herself to break off even a pieceit stuck in her throat with guilt. She gave it to the boy next door and, the next time, refused the old mans offering. But the gentleman grumbled to the social care office, claiming, Chocolate isnt enough for carers nowadays; they expect cash envelopes. They nearly sacked Faith, but she simply shrugged: Go ahead, sack me. Im a human being, not a doormat! But they kept herher other clients rallied round. Among them was Anne Perkins. Faith liked Anne before, but after that, she became the sister Faith never had.

Their fates are alikeboth shaped by sadness after losing their parents young. Anne has lived with her disability since childhood, while Faiths wounds are invisibleher soul is nervous, scarred, and forever close to tears, even Anne cant always understand. The only common splinterneither has children. Faith has made her peace with it; Anne still hasnt. She chides Faith for wallowing, especially now shes gained confidence at the rehab centres dance rehearsals for an upcoming show. At first, Anne flatly refused to perform. Even Father Luke discouraged her; he often visits Anne on holidays with a prayer and a gift, approving of her embroidery, which he sees as perfect for her. Her fingers arent nimble, but shes persistent. She started with handkerchiefs and napkins, then stitched ornate vines and vibrant birds onto a linen dress. The design was so striking, it was sent to a county folk art exhibition, where Anne took first prize. On the last day, the dress was even soldwith her agreement, of course. When they brought her the tidy sumalmost £300Anne called Faith in tears; it was her first ever earnings and she had no idea what to do with the money.

Dont fretwell find a use for it! Faith laughed before turning serious. Well buy more dresses, enough embroidery work for a year or two. Otherwise, youll start brooding again.

Anne said nothing, wounded by Faiths last remark, because lately shes been dreaming of marriage more and more. She knows all about romance from films, but in real life, she can only envy it.

After her exhibition success, the rehab centre called and invited Anne to join the dance studio, preparing a duet. Is that even possible? Its absurd! she gasped, hanging up, thinking it all a cruel joke.

They called again and reassured her to just try, and if it didnt work out, they wouldnt insist.

You might surprise yourself! insisted a brisk woman on the line. Youre a prize-winner now; time to broaden your horizons! Youll be our star! Social care has agreed to send your carer to accompany you to rehearsals.

Whos my partner? Anne asked.

Someone like yourself. We have several pairsyou know, no one here is truly without options! Everyone can find something to love! The woman was so forceful it was impossible to interrupt.

Ill try Anne sighed.

Thats my girl! Im Mrs Margaret Josephson, head of the studio. Be ready after lunch tomorrow; a special bus will collect you.

And so at the appointed hour the next day, a stern, bristling driver turned up and collected Annewithout her hat, lest she crush her freshly set, golden hair, carefully freed from rollers by Faith just before leaving. The bus already had her dance partnera man in a wheelchair, called Alexander, with whom shed be rehearsing. Bashfully, Anne offered her hand, realising the wonder of feeling that strong, gentle grip.

At the rehab centre, the driver and Faith helped Anne up the ramp and wheeled her to the rehearsal space, while Alexander nimbly whisked himself about.

Their first rehearsal was clumsy and awkward. They sweated, flushed, heeded instructions, and spun to the rhythmstarting with basic steps, embarrassed before the tall, willowy dance teacherso graceful and livelyand before Alexander, and spry Mrs Margaret Josephson as well. And that was just the beginning. Week by week, through autumn and winter, Anne trained at the studioembroidering less and living for rehearsals with Faith by her side.

Today, Anne is preparing for a session, waiting for Faith, who arrives frowning and silent as if the rehearsals now weigh too heavily. Anne cant help but prod:

Why the long face?

Nothings wrong! Faith snaps, trying not to show her mood.

Anne changes the topic, seeing Faiths frustration: Well, were only fortythats not old! We could still start families.

You again with that… Ive been married. Seven years my poor husband put up with me before he left. Cant blame him. Serves me right for chasing men in my youth. My parents never got grandchildren.

Whats past is past. If I were you, Id have tried a hundred times more for marriage!

You going to keep nagging?

If marriage is off, these days you can have a child another way.

That costs a fortune! Dyou think Im made of money?

They said on telly some procedures are now free.

Lets discuss it later What are you wearing?

You wont even listen! Pink top and grey skirt.

You shouldve worn your performance dress; you need to get used to itits long.

Ill save that for the dress rehearsal; I might get it filthy on the bus!

On the eve of the final rehearsal, they practised longer than ever. Returning home, Faith wheeled Anne into her flat, helped undress her, sat her on a stool in the bathroom, and bathed her, Anne chatting away joyously. Then she wrapped Anne in a robe, settled her at the kitchen table, poured tea, and offered biscuits and chocolates. Anne didnt touch them; instead, she asked,

What was your first time like?

Faith blinked. My first what?

With a man Anne blushed.

I dont remember.

Dont lie. You were marriedthen there was Nicholas.

There was. He hung about two months after the divorce, then found someone younger. Nothing to envy! Faith scoffed.

Well, Alexander likes me, Anne declared. He gives me this look!

Blondes always catch the eye of dark-haired men. Dont risk it! If you let your heart run wild, youll regret it.

But what was it really like?

Never mind. Drink your tea and go have a restyou look pale.

Anne said nothing, and Faith realised Anne had caught the hopelessness Faith cautioned her about. Shed cling to it now, so Faith tidied up and as she left, reminded her,

Ill lock up. Expect me by lunch tomorrow. Anything to bring from the shops?

You know yourself Anne replied, eyes closed.

Get a good sleep! Tomorrows the big day!

Anne didnt answer.

Thats what dancing does! Faith muttered, stopping herself just in time from adding, You could go mad from it!

Outside, Faiths thoughts changed: Still, she should meet someone. They seem helpless, but look what happened with Nicholas. I should never have told her!

After Faith left, Anne regretted snapping at her. Faith could have listened, after all. Now who could Anne pour her heart out to? If only I could write poetry, she thought, choking on tears and tightness in her chest. She tried to banish thoughts of Alexander, but images came anywayhis cropped, chestnut hair, deep brown eyes, those strong, steadying hands. Early on, shed feared falling as they waltzed, but with Alexander she realised she was safe; that confidence grew, just as did the compliments from the choreographer: Well done! like she was a child againwhich delighted Anne.

She gradually mastered the steps, grew used to Alexander, to Faith sitting in the wings, and even to the comic electrician in his orange overalls.

As the final rehearsal neared, Anne frettedwould she manage? But really, she worried more about what would come after the concert. Would she ever really meet Alexander, or would she only ever see him at rehearsals? Would she ever invite him for tea where all her neighbours could see she had someone? Or was this as happy as things could get? So tomorrow, shed try her bestno misstepsso shed always be asked to perform.

In the morning Anne laid her concert dress on the sofadark purple, decked with sequins and gems, slippery silk alive in her handsto double-check the seams. She pictured herself in it, but was too nervous to imagine what came after. The main thing was to listen to the music and follow Alexanders cues, not missing a beat because, if she erred, someone might say, Well, what could you expect

Shed have daydreamed endlessly, but the clatter of Faiths keys distracted her.

All right, starready for the big rehearsal? Faith asked, bluntly, with a hint of teasing.

Ready but so nervous!

Thats goodit means youre still alive. Lets get ready.

They took their time, even asking the grumpy driver to fetch them early, so Anne could change first and fight her nerves. Yet as they entered the community centre, she felt the eyes of everyone on her and Alexanderhe in a black suit and bow tie, accompanied by a woman.

Backstage, as they prepared, Alexander rolled over to Anne, kissed her cheek, and said,

Dont worryitll be fine.

She nodded, barely understanding, her cheek burning where hed kissed her.

Then, from behind, a woman on a stick tapped Annes shoulder.

Dont worryitll work out, she said quietly.

Who are you? Anne whispered, her dread intensifyingthis woman wasnt here by chance.

Alexander rolled closer. Anne, meet my wife, Susan.

Anne nodded politely. Only now did she notice the wedding ring on Alexanders fingerit had never been there before! The words, the ringher hopes crashed down, as if they never existed, as if they belonged to a different Anne. She couldnt breathe; her head spun

When they revived her, she gazed about and slumped back.

Whats wrong with Perkins? snapped Mrs Margaret Josephson, her voice, once motherly, now harsh and brittle.

Shes worn outcant you see? Faith replied sharply.

She needs a doctor, not home! Get her on her feet and back to the stage. We didnt work for months only to waste her part!

Either from those words, or on her own, Anne opened her eyes, but from shame wouldnt speak. She rode the bus home in silence, nudged Faith only just outside her building:

Wheres Alexander?

Hes still rehearsingwith his usual partner. You, miss fragile, fell apart over nothing. Dont fret; its for the best. Father Luke always said so! Faith spoke briskly, trying to be tough.

Anne took offence.

Their driver helped Faith get Anne inside; she threw herself on the bed in her concert dress.

All done, yeah? The driver grinned for the first time.

All done! Off you go, now! Faith shooed him out and turned to Anne. Will you at least say what happened? Faith asked gently.

Anne hesitated. When she finally spoke, crying, it was clear:

Alexanders married

Faith nearly laughed. Shed feared the worst, but this?

So you fancied him, stretched your heart for nothing?

Mind your own business, please leave!

Faith didnt budge, but Anne repeated, Go and never come back. Ill manage. Youre so cruel, Faith the Plague!

Had Anne said it with fury, Faith could shrug it off, but it was in her usual trembling murmur. Even knowing Anne so well, it stung. Could Annes fragile hopes truly go so deep, shed push away the only person who really cared, who was almost like family? Did she really mean it? Other carers just dropped off shopping, did a bit of cleaning, then went home. But Faith stayedhelped cook, did the washing, watched films, slept over. And now she was cruela plague!

Thanks for that, Anne Perkins, Faith muttered with a bitter smile.

Out she went, cool as you like. But walking home, she nearly lost her footing. Tomorrow, Ill ask to be reassigned from that stubborn woman, she decided. Or leave social care entirely! Theyve wanted me at the nursery for ages. I used to work with babiesnobody called me a plague then!

At home, Faith tried to make dinner but was too wearyjust tea and biscuits before lying on the settee. After all, todays dress rehearsal wore her out. Yet as sleep took her, she still thought of Anne. Let her live alone for a day or twoshell see. Little miss prize-winner thinks the world must revolve around her!

Faith finally drifted off, only to be jarred awake by the phone. It was Father Luke, his voice urgent.

Faith Thompson, come quickly, please! Anne needs to be taken to hospital

Faiths heart stopped; she remembered leaving Annes flat unlocked in her haste. Something serious had happened. Barely knowing what she was doing, she dressed and rushed outside. Passing an ambulance, her stomach twistedwas that Annes? At her block, she spotted a police car, the priest, and neighbours.

What happened to Anne? Faith asked.

Looks like poisoning Father Luke replied. She rang, said she was unwell, asked me to come. She wouldnt explain. When I arrived, she was on the floor unconscious, with some tablets scattered nearby I called the ambulance and police.”

A sharp-eyed police lieutenant approached. Who are you to the victim?

Im her carer Social worker. I check on her. Whats happened?

She tried to end it all!

Nonsense! Shes gentle as an angel

Then someone pushed her too far. The investigation will reveal Do you have keys?

Yes, here

Come on, then! We need to switch off all appliances and lock up. Ill seal the flat. Later, Ill need your statement.

Butjust an hour ago she seemed fine.

Not all was well, then. Thats why we need your side, and hers, if she recovers.

Stunned, Faith did as told, with neighbours as witnesses.

Dont forget the fridge, said the policeman.

But the food will go off!

Put it on the balcony.

As Faith carried the groceries out, she spotted Annes mobile. At least let me bring her phone?

Everything stays as it is.

Finally, the flat sealed, Faith was taken to give her statement. Once done, the officer smiled.

She really did all this for love gone sour?

What else, for heavens sake?

Guess theres nothing more for us to do tonight. Off you go.

Instead of home, Faith sped to the hospital. In A&E, she found out from the charge nurse, Are you asking about Anne Perkins? Poisoning? Shes in resus, but coming round now.

Thank goodness! May I see her?

Not a chancethe earliest would be three days, and only if we move her to general ward. With flu on the go, were restricting all visitors. And you are?

A friend.

Thats good, we worried she had no one.

May I bring her wheelchair? Shes disabled.

Weve got plenty of wheelchairs, love! Heres our numbercall before you come. When shes ready to leave, you can fetch her then.

Faith left the hospital calmer but melancholicher flat felt damp, cold, unspeakably lonely. She gazed at the phone all evening, waiting for it to ring, but it didnt. In the morning she reported to work about Anne, and begged not to have her transferred to another carer.

She stays under your care, dont worry! her manager reassured her, clearly aware of the situation.

For the next days, Faith called the hospital daily for news. Anne didnt respond. Then on the fourth day, a stranger phoned:

Is this Thompson?

It is.

Its the hospital. Im a nurse looking after Anne Perkins. She wants you to come, but you cant see her face-to-face due to quarantine. However, you may stand under her window. Therapeutic ward, second floor, third window from the left, opposite main entrance. Shell be there at one oclock.

Thank you! Can I bring anything?

Nothingstrict quarantine. Not even flowers, even though Mothers Day was just this week.

So, after caring for two clients, Faith hurried to the hospital and stood below Annes window. For a while, there was no sign, and Faith considered tossing a snowball, but soon enough, Anne appearedthin, pale, but her eyes beaming with joy. She strained to say something through the double glazing, but nothing much could be exchanged through the glass. Anne flashed a signholding up a paper with the word SORRY in big letters. Faith waved and signalled back that everything was forgiven; all that mattered was Annes warmth was back. Faith was filled with such joy she barely noticed the drippy snow, the sun shining off the church spire nearby. She was suddenly sure that spring had come at last and, with it, the long winters worries melted away. Theres nothing left to brood over, she thought, tears of happiness overflowing. And with a fond, exasperated smile, Faith thought of her friend: Oh Anne, you stubborn goatyou really are a pain, but I wouldnt have it any other way.As Anne pressed her palm to the windowpane, Faith mirrored the gesture through the cold glass. For a long moment, their hands aligned, separated by distance but held by something greatera stubborn lifeline woven between them, tested, stretched, but never broken. Annes lips moved soundlessly, shaping familiar words, and Faith pretended to catch them, mouthing back, Im not going anywhere.

A shadow moved behind Annea nurse, urging her to rest. Anne nodded, but before withdrawing, she blew a kiss with trembling fingers. Faith caught it in the air, closing her hand around it, her own heart lighter than it had felt in years.

As Faith lingered beneath the window, she watched a pink scrap of paper flutter downAnnes apology scrawled in her wobbly letters, a heart drawn at the bottom. Catching it, Faith pressed the note to her chest, and something fierce and protective filled her, the kind of love that didnt ask for easy answers.

The snow was slushy underfoot, sunlight trickling through gray clouds. Faith finally turned for home, pocketing Annes letter, her steps steady. She realized, perhaps for the first time, that being called the Plague meant shed refused to let people rot in their lonelinesseven if her own wounds still ached.

Back in her little flat, Faith made herself a proper cup of tea and poured a glass of milkcold and sweet, Annes favorite, ready for her return. She set it on the kitchen table beside a daffodil in an old jam jar, grinning despite herself. Some things took time to heal. Some things you learned not from books, but in moments of forgiveness and second chances.

Tomorrow, when Anne would call, Faith would answera little gentler, perhaps, or at least determined not to give up. Spring would keep coming, stubborn as ever, and so would they.

In Manchesters drizzle, two women would go on: drinking tea, embroidering their lives back together, squabbling and laughing, aware, now more than ever, that lovereal lovewas the simple, stubborn promise to stay.