Right, well, she had to get to grips with this. She had to get things clear in her own mind. She had to look at the facts. Fact One, she thought, taking a deep breath.
Her ruddy, difficult and annoying yet occasionally affable son; the son Arthur and she had tried to guide and love, despite his failings, had now, supposedly, in some wild turn of events decided to get rid of everything she’d ever owned. What? Even her jewellery? And what about all her precious photo albums? Some of her most valuable possessions were what she could see in those albums.
And there was lots of other stuff she really wanted to hold on to. There was Cleggy’s little red three-wheeler tricycle that she’d kept, for starters, and the old Singer sewing machine for stitching Arthur’s work shirts. Oh yes and then there was Cleggy’s little finger paintings he did when he was at school and all those Plasticine models he made. And there was Arthur’s collection of World War I planes and oh, there were lots of things she wanted to keep. Memories were attached to all of them. And memories were all she had left now. No! He couldn’t have! He wouldn’t have done all that, surely?
Would he?
Fact Two …
Jocelyn had said that Clegg had cleared everything else away too. Everything clogging up the rooms. All the crap, as Clegg always called it. Taken away in lorries! Well yes. If Gloria was honest she’d known that, one day, at some point, everything would have to be sorted out and most of it dumped; there’d been a vast amount of rubbish. Even Green’s Nursing Home had given her some new clothes. They’d realised the blouses and skirts they’d found in her wardrobes, once they’d cleared everything out, were damp and would be too small for her now. The dresses Green’s had given her, however, didn’t fit her very well so she wanted to get some new ones when Val could take her.
Probably donated by families of people who died, Gloria thought, jokingly, and then stopped, realising that – oh my God – that could actually have been the truth.
Nonetheless, even though Gloria knew Clegg could be bloody-minded, she didn’t really believe he’d get rid of all her personal belongings and knick-knacks, without telling her about it first. Or perhaps he didn’t realise how important all that stuff was to her? It had been part and parcel of her and Arthur’s life together. So surely he wouldn’t be that inconsiderate, would he?
Fact Three …
By all accounts, Clegg had even got rid of dear Tilsbury, and told him never to come back! Well, how ridiculous! As if Tilsbury would do what her bully of a son told him. But to top it all off she’d also been told that Clegg was getting rid of her house as well now!
Gloria let out a deep sigh. The facts were alarmingly clear. It didn’t look good, whatever Clegg was doing. Plus he’d discussed none of it with her beforehand.
So Jocelyn’s news had been totally shattering – to the extent that Gloria didn’t want to believe it was true. But Gloria had lived with her son long enough to realise that Cleggy was a force to be reckoned with. She knew that much, as his mother. And so, consequently, the facts seemed to stack up against him. Therefore, it was highly probable that Jocelyn’s take on the situation was correct.
Nonetheless, she could see, on the other hand, that she’d never really know what was going on unless she confronted Clegg and Val about her suspicions. And that was something she certainly didn’t want to face or do, right now.
Oh dear.
Why were things starting to go horribly wrong for her? How had her life suddenly turned out like this?
The next day a despondent Gloria paced her bedroom until Clegg and Val went to work. Then she picked up their hall telephone to speak to Tilsbury. Jocelyn had kept her promise and Tilsbury had briefly rung Gloria back yesterday afternoon.
‘Here, Glor, ring me back tomorrow at Jocelyn’s, when the coast’s clear and we can have a proper talk,’ he’d said.
But, today, the last thing she wanted was for either Clegg or Val to come home, unexpectedly, and catch her on the phone to Clegg’s dreaded nemesis, Tilsbury. All hell would break loose if they did. Of that she was sure.
Gloria hesitated before dialling Jocelyn’s number and took a deep breath.
It was such a shame it all had to be like this, tiptoeing around everybody’s personalities, for fear of reprisals, she thought. Why was family life so darned complicated sometimes?
If Adam and Jessie had been home instead of on their extended holiday with their respective friends, everything would’ve been so much better. In fact, staying with her son would’ve been far more bearable if her grandchildren had been home, despite the recent bad news from Jocelyn. Gloria also despised the fact that Clegg and Val seemed to be walking on eggshells around her and always whispering. Too much whispering was going on.
She rang her friend’s number and Tilsbury answered immediately. ‘All right, my love?’
‘Not really, Tils. I’d like to see ya, if you’re free today. Just need an ear to bend really. Someone to talk to about all this. Can’t take it all in, ducks. It’s such a shock. But if you’re coming round you’ll need to be quick. What? Why yes, my love. Why, that would be absolutely lovely, Tilsbury! Yes, okay. I’d love to do that. But we’d have to be back before they get home. They’ve been getting back around six this week. Yes, six. Right, so I’ll expect you in about half an hour then and do NOT be late!’
Oh, but what a wonderful idea! Tilsbury said he wanted to take her out for afternoon tea. Yes! It might be just the thing she needed right now: a little treat, in amongst all their problems. They hadn’t done anything like that in years – in fact, since Arthur was alive. Tilsbury said he knew she was upset by everything that’d happened and by what Jocelyn’d told her yesterday and he simply wanted to cheer her up.
Gloria had tossed and turned, restlessly, the night before, worrying about what Clegg was planning to do next, regarding her living arrangements. She was still mystified as to why he’d never mentioned selling her house to her. Or maybe she hadn’t been listening when he’d come to fetch her that day; there’d been a lot going on. But why did he suddenly want to sell her house now?
Maybe he’d found other problems with the building. Maybe something was wrong with the drains or there was structural damage? Or maybe they’d discovered it was in one of those sink hole areas? She’d heard about that sort of thing once.
As she stood in the hall, anxiously waiting for Tilsbury to come and pick her up she was relieved that, at least, the nursing home people had been lovely and understanding about her problems. During their heart-to-hearts the social worker, Kate, had helped her ‘come to terms’ with the deaths of Arthur and her parents – her real parents and Alice.
‘That’s what we think your hoarding was about, my lovely. Just a reaction to your grief. And keeping things of sentimental value is understandable, Gloria. But we think it overwhelmed you. Can you see that trying to find an electrical fault amongst all that stuff could have been the death of you? Or what if you’d fallen and couldn’t get back up? So we do hope you’re not going to try to bring lots of unnecessary things back into your life, again. We’re going to try and help you with that, over the coming weeks, and your family have said they’ll be there for you, helping you with that, too.’
It had all sounded so nice and comforting. She’d chatted to the people at Green’s