the soil.
‘Hello, Mr Sayers,’ Sarah called, waving eagerly.
The man stood up and arched himself backwards as he squinted into the sun to see her. ‘Hello, love. I thought you might come down today so I’ve just been digging up some lovely rhubarb for you. Come and have a look at this! I can’t believe how big it’s grown, especially after all that snow we had a couple of months back!’
Sarah had heard of rhubarb but she’d never eaten it. She looked at the red and green stalks with a dubious expression on her face.
‘Boil it up in a saucepan, that’s all you have to do. With these blinking rations, I doubt you’ve got any sugar, but if you have, sprinkle a bit on, and there you have it, stewed rhubarb. You’ll love it, and so will the boy,’ Mr Sayers said, and handed Sarah the fresh fruit before looking into the pram at Tommy, who greeted the toothless old man with an equally gummy grin. ‘Blimey, he’s getting big.’
‘Yes, he is, and I think it’s time he came off the milk, so I’ll give him a bit of this rhubarb later. Thank you.’
‘Sarah, come and sit down, pet. There’s something I need to tell you.’
She noticed a troubled expression on Mr Sayers’ lined face, and instantly her heart began to pound in anticipation of bad news. She sat on a rickety bench and watched with concern as he slowly lowered himself down beside her. His back must be playing up again, she thought, wishing there was more she could do to help the dear old man. His wife had passed away many years ago, and now Mr Sayers rented a room in a house owned by an elderly couple. The rent was reasonably cheap and was supported by the fruit and vegetables he supplied, and though it was not ideal, he always said he was happy enough, although his landlady was a mean-spirited miser. He’d once told Sarah he was even charged extra for using the shed. On a few occasions, Sarah had helped Mr Sayers carry his tools back to the shed, but she’d never been invited into the house.
Mr Sayers took Sarah’s hand, and sighed a long, deep breath. Though his palms were calloused, she noticed the papery skin covering the back of his hands, and could feel him shaking.
‘What is it, Mr Sayers?’
‘Thing is, Sarah … well, I’m an old man and I’ve had a good innings. I’ve seen five kings and queens come and go, and I’ve lived through two World Wars. But my time’s about up and it won’t be long before I’ll be seeing my Dulcie again.’
Sarah knew Mr Sayers’ wife had been called Dulcie, but she was dead.
‘I don’t understand …’ she muttered, praying it wasn’t what she thought.
‘I ain’t going to mince my words, so I’ll tell you straight … I’m dying, love. The doctor says I’ve got this blinking disease that’s gonna finish me off within a few months.’
At the thought of losing her substitute granddad, Sarah instantly felt tears welling up in her eyes. Mr Sayers was such a caring, sweet man, and as most of her old schoolfriends now shunned her, he was pretty much the only friend she had. He couldn’t be dying – it wasn’t fair!
‘Now, now, now … we can’t have any of that sad stuff. Like I said, I’ve had a good and long life, but I’ve missed my Dulcie. It’ll be good to be with her again.’
Sarah pulled her hand away from Mr Sayers’ and wiped her snotty nose with the cuff of her sleeve. ‘But … but … but I’ll miss you!’ she blurted out.
Mr Sayers shuffled further along the bench and placed his arm around Sarah’s shoulders.
‘I’m sorry, pet. There’s nothing I can do about it. Death is a part of life and comes to us all eventually. I didn’t want to tell you, but I had to ’cos I won’t be coming up here no more. It’s getting a bit much for me now. Come on, stop crying, you’ll upset young Tommy …’
Sarah heaved in a juddering breath and looked into Mr Sayers’ grey, watery eyes. ‘So … is this the last time I’ll see you? No, it can’t be! Let me come and look after you … please …’
‘You can’t, love. My son and his wife are coming to pick me up tomorrow morning. They’re taking me to live out my days with them in a town up north called Liverpool,’ said Mr Sayers, then chuckled before adding, ‘It ain’t my cup of tea – they talk funny up there! Cor, you should hear the way my daughter-in-law sounds. Still, it’s for the best, I suppose.’
Sarah threw her arms around the old man, sobbing hard. Mr Sayers was like the granddad she’d never had, and her heart was breaking at the thought of never seeing him again.
‘You’ve got to be a brave girl. No more tears,’ he said, and gently eased himself away from her.
‘I’m sorry,’ Sarah said as she tried to pull herself together. ‘Can I walk back through the park with you?’
‘Of course you can, though when we get to the gates, I don’t want any of this mushy long goodbye stuff … just a quick wave and a “see you later”. OK?’
‘All right,’ Sarah reluctantly agreed. She knew she was going to mourn Mr Sayers for a long time to come. As they walked through the park, she wondered what would happen to him. If he really was going to see his Dulcie again, would he be able to get a message to her dead brother?
Annie drew a long breath on the roll-up she’d made from old dog-ends that Sarah had collected off the streets. She sat at the kitchen table, irritated at the thought that at any minute the front door would fly open and her children would be home.
Eddy had just left and given her a jug of beer. She poured some into a tin cup and drank quickly in the hope of getting rid of the disgusting taste he’d left. She hadn’t wanted him to finish in her mouth but he’d forcefully held her head to his manhood and had almost choked her. She had thought of biting down, that would have taught the bugger a lesson, but then he’d have been annoyed with her and wouldn’t have given her the beer. So, with little choice, she’d been compliant, but if he wanted that again, she’d demand gin next time.
‘Hello, Mum,’ Sarah said, sounding subdued as she came in, holding Tommy in one arm and a bunch of rhubarb in the other.
Annie managed a grunt, but she couldn’t be bothered to get into a conversation with the girl. Tommy flashed her a wide smile. The brazen little brat, she thought as she glared at him, and was pleased to see him turn his head and bury it in Sarah’s shoulder.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve had anything to eat, have you, Mum?’ Sarah asked.
Annie didn’t bother to answer.
‘I’ll take that as a no then. I’m making me and Tommy some stewed rhubarb. Do you want some?’
Annie rolled her eyes and shook her head. No, she bloody didn’t want any rhubarb. Just the thought of it made her want to heave.
‘Oh, Mum, you’ve got to eat. You’re so thin, come on, it’ll do you good.’
Here she goes again, Annie thought, her righteous daughter, nagging and
