(Published 'Eleventh Issue' 1991)
‘The house next, door is partially occupied.'
I looked quizzically at the friend whom I was visiting for the first time since the war.
‘Yea, the old woman ... you remember her, Mrs Charles ... well, she died Just before Christmas.'
I nearly said that was better than dying on Christmas Day itself when I realised I would be playing into his conversational hands as It were.
He had always been a little bit of a joker and I could see nothing had changed.
‘It’s a good job she’s there...’
‘Why?’ I bit my tongue. I had fallen into his trap.
‘Because my water pipes come via her property and they’d freeze up If her heating wasn’t kept going.’
I looked through the window at the cascading snow. The lane had been like an Ice rink and it was lucky I’d arrived at all, let alone in one piece. He had lived here man and boy, a terrace of two-up-two-downs, miles from anywhere ... well, from anywhere except Tipoak.
For several years, most of our contact had been by means of the written word, so it was with some consternation that I noticed those same years had not been as kind to him as to me. In fact, if it wasn’t, for the hearty handshake and the ready twinkle in his one eye, I could have easily imagine-i it was not him at all. We might be both growing senile, but I, at least, was insufficiently senile to believe that.
Well, after a period of friendly small talk, whilst thick bacon rashers sizzled oveU the open fire, we trawled and dredged memories for what they were now worth. We ended up discussing his neighbours again and it turned out that the following prevailed:-
‘What happened to Miss Welch?’
“She left to go up north.’
‘I always thought you had a fancy for her. I was surprised you never finally tied the knot.’
‘We did really, but it all came undone with loose frayed ends. You know what it’s like.’
Only too well, I thought, remembering his lame sister.
‘Is anyone moving in next door?’
‘I don’t think so. Tipoak’s a little bit too far away for comfort these days.’
He rubbed his back.
Then, out of character, he abruptly lifted himself from the easy chair and knocked vigorously on one of the connecting walls. I couldn’t quite recall which side was which, as I had lost my bearings soon after stepping indoors. In any event, the result was surprising: a double knock reply.
‘It’s Ok. She’s still there... You know, I’m thinking as well as being plumbed in like we are, we could knock that wall down - seems a shame, otherwise - I’ll be too old enjoy it. The only reason she’s hanging about down here, really...’
He was interrupted by a telling rattle in the pipes as someone somewhere drew off a kettle-full of water, no doubt for a warming cuppa.
After a tasty breakfast, I decided to be on my way. Trains weren’t so regular through Tipoak these days.
My old friend was not too upset my sudden departure. I tried to memorlse his face, as I shook hands with him. Despite the changes the years had brought, it was still, on the whole, as kind as ever.
Mr and Mrs Urquart’s curtains were drawn I noticed as I passed on the way to the station. I hoped there hadn’t been a death in the family.
