‘What the effin’ hell do you want?’
‘And it’s great to talk to you too, ducks! Look, can’t we put all that stuff behind us, now? It’s been going on for years! We were lovely friends once –’
‘Yeah but nicking someone else’s husband ain’t playin’ fair, Glor!’
‘Oh rubbish, Joss! You kicked him out! And he hadn’t done nothing wrong. He likes animals! You got it all wrong and he used that as a reason to leave, is all. How many times do we have to go over old ground? Plus he came to me. Not the other way round. I was happy with my Arthur.’
Gloria paused, wondering if Jocelyn was still listening.
‘Besides you’re tied up with Marvin now. And he treats you right, by all accounts. Can’t have ’em both, lovey. Anyway, I’m ringing to ask a favour. I expect you know what’s gone on, ducks. And we both know Clegg’s a bit of a twat when it comes to Tilsbury. But he looks after me, he does. They both do, in their way. But, that aside, I need to talk to Tils. Want to apologise to him about all this. Don’t mind if you want to pass the message on. Or else I can speak to him, if you give him this number and get him to ring. But it’ll have to be before six p.m., this week, cause Cleggy and Val are both workin’ ’til then and I don’t want no trouble from them.’
Silence continued at the end of the line. Gloria didn’t push it.
‘I suppose!’ Jocelyn said with a sigh.
‘What do you suppose, ducks?’
‘I’ll tell him. But here, Glor. I’ll tell you summat …’
‘What Jocelyn?’
‘Well, Tils was like, full of it, when your Cleggy chucked him out. I mean he says Cleggy literally got hold of him by the scruff of his collar and marched him down the stairs and out the door. Like, over all them things you have, and Cleggy was kicking stuff outta the way and stuff was breaking. Tinklies. You know? And then straight outta your house. Anyway, the next week there was a right racket, I can tell you –’
‘Racket?’
‘Oh yeah,’ Jocelyn continued, excitedly. ‘I went to see what was going on, like, with Big Doreen from next door. And it was right astoundin’ it was. Big lorries arrived and people with weird-looking gear on and masks over their faces. And they kept going in and out, and gettin’ stuff and dumpin’ it in the lorries. Just chuckin’ it in, like. Stuff was crackin’ and breakin’. And people were gawping at what was goin’ on. You’d’ve be in the nursin’ home by then. And after that the electricity people went in, to fix up your Big Bang. Then there were decorators and floorin’ people. Gawd! It looked like a ruddy crime scene, it did, with all the vans and people swarmin’ all around!’
‘Crikey, Joss. That sounds like a whole load of crumblies!’
‘Yeah, it was, Glor. But, you know, if you saw your place now you wouldn’t recognise it. All your stuff’s gone. To the dump, Tils says. He says it’s all painted up, now: white walls and you’ve got a new kitchen and new bathroom. He snuck in and saw it after it was all done up. Plus there’s three For Sale boards outside. They’re sellin’ it, Glor. Looks like Cleggy’s sellin’ your house from under ya, love.’
‘He’s what? No, he can’t be! Don’t be silly. He’s meant to be sorting it all out for me. Not sellin’ it, love! He didn’t tell me he was sellin’ it, Joss,’ Gloria said, suddenly feeling sick. That couldn’t be what was happening, surely. ‘Crikey, ducks, are you sure?’
‘So why else would there be sale boards outside it, then?’
‘Definitely outside my place?’ Gloria gasped. ‘Not next door?’
‘I seen ’em with my own eyes, Glor!’
She’d been told they were looking for the electrical fault. She’d never been told that Clegg wanted to do anything else. He told her he was going to put things right and she’d thought that meant that, once things had been sorted out, she’d just move back in and things would continue as normal. But, if what Jocelyn was saying was true then there’d be nothing left to go home for because ALL her stuff had apparently gone. To the DUMP. And new stuff was replacing her old things.
So maybe that’s what was going on. Her son, Clegg, was trying to sell her house, on the quiet! Gloria felt weak with worry. Oh my God!
No, it couldn’t be. Jocelyn must’ve got it wrong! Why would Clegg do something like that, without telling her? Why would he think it was okay to do something like that without telling her? Or did he just want her to live with them? They hadn’t discussed anything like that. And no! Gloria didn’t want to live with them – even though they were the only family she had now. She’d dreamt about it in the early days after Arthur died, of course, but it wasn’t something she’d contemplated for a long time now. She’d grown to like living by herself. Plus there’d be rules at Clegg’s and Tilsbury wouldn’t be allowed to visit, for one thing.
Or else – no! Surely not!
A chill ran through Gloria. Surely he didn’t want to put her back into Green’s Nursing Home, did he? Or did he want to put her somewhere else, out of the way, so she’d be no trouble to anyone? Away from the people she loved and cared about …?
What if that was his plan? They’d never really got on, mother and son, had they? Not really. It’d been much better and easier when Arthur was alive. Clegg had respected Arthur. But since then …
Or maybe that was his plan? To put her in an old people’s home – sitting there, alongside moaning old folk, just like in that Waiting for God programme, and visited even less by her family. They had busy lives; Clegg was always telling her that. And then, eventually, she’d be forgotten …
No, Clegg! Surely not that!
How she used to laugh at that show! But it didn’t seem quite so funny now she might end up in that same situation.
Realisation suddenly dawned that she was nearly eighty. She would eventually become a bind to her son and his family, so it would definitely be something they’d be discussing with her in the not-too-distant future, of that she was sure. It also hit her that they might be contemplating where to put her at this very moment in time, especially with this new problem of her house. Gloria knew she didn’t feel ready for that kind of conversation. She was still able-bodied and, as far as she knew, she wasn’t starting to lose her marbles just yet. And even though she could see she was seventy-nine on the outside, she certainly didn’t feel like an old woman on the inside.
‘You okay, Glor?’ asked Jocelyn in a small, worried voice.
No, Gloria Frensham was not okay. A tear dripped slowly down her cheek. She thanked Jocelyn, with a watery, ‘Yeah but I, I gotta go now. So ta-ra, love. We’ll speak soon.’ And she put the phone down.
She simply couldn’t believe what Jocelyn was suggesting, but Jocelyn wasn’t prone to lying. Yet it really didn’t seem feasible that Clegg would go behind her back and sell her property or get rid of all her belongings, without her knowledge. Would he? Did he really care so little for her feelings? Her mind was buzzing with all the questions, flying around inside her brain.
She desperately hoped that Jocelyn had got it completely wrong.
Gloria slumped onto the stool by the phone in Clegg’s hall, dumbfounded, trying to make sense of Jocelyn’s news. She wiped her tears away, on the back of her sleeve.
She had to think