A Remarkable Woman

A Good Woman

Shes a treasure, she is. Where would we be without her?
And you only give her sixteen quid a month.
Rose, we put her name on the flat, didnt we?

Harold got out of bed and shuffled quietly into the adjoining room. Under the soft glow of the night lamp, he peered at his wife with dimming eyes.

He sat beside her, listening carefully. Seems all right, he murmured.

He rose and meandered to the kitchen. Opened a bottle of milk, splashed some in a glass, and lingered in the bathroom before heading back to his own room.

He lay on the bed, sleep eluding him:

Rose and I, both pushing ninety. How many years have we seen come and go? Soon, I dare say, well be off to meet our makerand no one left by our side.

Their daughters gone; Natalie passed away before she even reached sixty.

Maxwell as well; spent his days on the razzle… There is the granddaughter, Olivia, but shes lived in France for over twenty years now. Never even mentions the old folks. She must have grown children of her ownyoud think they’d visit.

Before he realised, Harold drifted into sleep.

He was woken by a gentle hand:

Harold, you all right? came the feeble voice.

He opened his eyes. His wife leaned over him.

Whats wrong, Rose?

I just saw you lying there, so still.

Still alive! Go on, get some sleep.

Her shuffling steps faded. The kitchen light clicked on.

Rose poured herself some water, washed up, and went back to her room. She lay down, sighing:

One morning Ill wake up and hell be gone. Whatll I do then? Or maybe Ill go first.

Harolds already sorted both their funerals. Never thought you could arrange such things ahead of time. In a way, its a blessing. Who else would do it for us?

Olivias forgotten us entirely. Only the neighbour, Ivy, pops in. She has keys to the flat. Grandad gives her a tenner from our pensionsshe picks up groceries, sorts this and that. Not as if weve got much use for money now. And since we cant manage the stairs from the fourth floor anymore

Harold blinked awake. Sunlight poured in through the window. He stepped onto the balcony, taking in the green crown of the cherry tree. A smile spread across his face:

Made it to summer, after all!

He checked on his wife, who sat quietly on her bed, deep in thought.

Rosie, dont mope! Come, I want to show you something.

Oh, Im worn out! the old lady groaned, slowly rising. What are you up to now?

Come on, come on!

Guiding her gently, he led her to the balcony.

Lookthe cherry trees gone green! And you said wed never see another summer together. But we have!

Well, so it has! And the suns out too.

They settled on the worn bench, breathing in the morning air.

Do you remember when I asked you to the pictures? Still at school, we were. Cherry trees were sprouting leaves that day too.

Of course I remember. How could I forget? How many years ago was that?

Seventy-five, give or take.

They sat for a long time, reminiscing. So much slips your mind with ageeven what you had for tea yesterday escapes youbut those youthful years never fade.

Oh, look at the time! Rose said, rousing herself. We havent even had breakfast yet.

Rose, make us a proper cup of tea, will you? Im sick to death of this herbal stuff.

Were not supposed to have strong tea, remember.

Just a weaker brew, and half a spoon of sugar, please.

Harold drank the pale tea, nibbling on a small cheese sandwich, remembering when breakfast meant proper tea, strong and sweetserved up with jam tarts or pancakes.

Their neighbour let herself in with a smile.

How are you two this morning?

What do you expect from a pair of ninety-year-olds? Harold quipped.

If youre joking, must be all right. Need anything from the shops?

Ivy, pick up some meat for us, Harold said.

You shouldnt be eating that.

Chickens all right.

Ill get some. Ill make you a chicken noodle soup, youll see!

Ivy cleared the table, did the washing up, and left.

Rose, lets get back on the balconylets soak up a bit more sunshine.

Lets!

Ivy popped her head round again.

Cant stay away from the sunshine, eh?

Its lovely out here, Ivy! Rose smiled.

Ill bring you some porridge, and then get started on your lunch.

Shes worth her weight in gold, she is, Harold remarked as Ivy left. Whatever would we do without her?

And you only give her sixteen quid a month.

Rose, we put her name on the flat, didnt we?

She doesnt know that.

They sat on the balcony until lunchtime. For lunch, Ivy served up homemade chicken soupsavory pieces of chicken and soft, crushed potatoes.

I always made this for Natalie and Maxwell when they were little, Rose recalled.

And here we are, at our age, being looked after by other folk, Harold sighed.

Perhaps its how its meant to be, Harold love. When we go, no one will even shed a tear.

Oh, Rose, lets have none of that. Time for a nap!

Harold, they say you go back to childhood when youre oldsoft soup, afternoon naps, and a snack for tea.

Harold dozed for a bit, then rosestill restless. Maybe the weather was changing again. He wandered into the kitchen. On the table stood two glasses of juice, carefully set out by Ivy.

He took them, hands steady but slow, and headed for his wifes room. She was sitting on the bed, gazing out the window.

Why the long face, Rosie? he offered a smile. Here, have some juice.

She sipped.

Cant sleep, can you?

Its this weather.

Even Ive felt off since morning, Rose shook her head sadly. Cant help feeling I havent much time left. See me off properly, wont you?

Dont say things like that, Rose. How could I go on without you?

One of us has to go first.

Enough. Come out onto the balcony.

They stayed there till evening. Ivy brought over some cheese scones. They ate, and settled in front of the telly like every night. The storylines of new dramas settled slowly, so they stuck to old comedies and childrens shows.

Tonight, they managed only a short cartoon. Rose stood.

I think Ill turn in. Im tired tonight.

Ill go too.

Let me get a good look at you! she suddenly said.

Why?

Just want to.

They looked at each other for ages, perhaps each lost in memories of youthwhen everything still lay ahead.

Let me walk you to your bed.

Rose slipped her arm through his, and together they moved slowly along.

He tucked her gently under the duvet, then headed for his own room, feeling an odd heaviness in his chest. Sleep wouldnt come easily.

It seemed as though he never really slept at all. Yet the electric clock said two in the morning. He got up and made his way to his wifes room.

She lay there, eyes open.

Rose!

He took her hand.

Rose! Rose!

Suddenly he found himself out of breath. He made it back to his room, found the paperwork hed prepared, and set it out on the table.

Harold returned to his wife. He stared at her face for a long time. Then he lay beside her, and closed his eyes.

He saw his Rose, young and beautiful as she was seventy-five years ago, moving toward some distant light. He rushed after her, caught her, and took her hand.

In the morning, Ivy came in. They were lying next to each other. The same contented smiles rested on both their faces.

Later, Ivy called the ambulance.

The doctor, upon seeing them, shook his head in surprise:

Went together, did they? Must have loved each other dearly

They were taken away. Ivy sank tiredly into a chair by the table, where she found the paperworka will with her name on it.

She bowed her head and wept.