said how nice it would be to have a little girl growing up next door, and they would be happy to babysit at any time – they didn’t go out much. I almost responded that I didn’t go out much either, but decided it was best to reveal as little of myself as possible.
I found the next stage of the preparations highly enjoyable. I got up early, took the train to York, and spent the morning in the city centre buying the necessary items: a navy blue gabardine coat (a bit dull) and some clumpy navy shoes; a more stylish, pillar-box red, lightweight wool coat; and black knee-length boots for me. Then I went into British Home Stores and Marks and Spencer for a number of sets of girls’ clothing, including pyjamas and underwear, all sized for age two years, and one set of boys’ clothes: dungarees, jumper, hat and parka, also for age two years.
Next, I allowed myself a break – a delightful light lunch and pot of tea at Betty’s Tea Room. Mother frequently said I should allow myself more “treats”. As always, she was right – I found I could relax and enjoy myself as I nursed a good cup of my favourite Earl Grey tea in the comfort and warmth of Betty’s.
It was pleasant strolling through the historic lanes and looking in at the shop windows. Mothercare was not far. With some helpful advice I selected a lightweight Maclaren pushchair, which the assistant referred to as a “buggy”. I also bought a potty, some nappies (just in case), a set of child’s plastic crockery and cutlery, and a few toys and books. This was all I could manage, but by putting several of the carrier bags into the buggy I was able to make my way back to York station, and from there I caught my train to Newcastle.
The next day I ordered a child’s bed, mattress and bedding, a wardrobe and chest of drawers, a little table and two chairs to match, some cheerful pictures, and a few more toys, all from Bainbridge’s excellent department store in Newcastle city centre. These items were to be delivered to my new house the following Friday, by which time Lucy’s room would be decorated and carpeted.
* * *
At home, I tried on the navy coat and shoes for the third time, together with the dark brown wig I’d ordered previously from a discreet company dealing mainly with cancer sufferers. I’d never taken great interest in fashion, much to the scorn of my schoolmates, but I knew exactly what I liked in the way of clothes.
I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. The effect on my appearance was immediate and striking. I was totally transformed – how very satisfactory. I even felt different in my new outfit: older and, it has to be said, somewhat dowdy. Removing those clothes, I delighted in observing the metamorphosis wrought by switching to the red coat, the delicious high boots, and the return to my natural fair hair. Not exactly a “scarlet woman”, but certainly a more lively and attractive persona.
The following week I arranged for some of my furniture and household possessions to be moved from Nottingham to Newcastle. I had stocked the new kitchen cupboards and the freezer with suitable food for me and a young child. The house was ready.
I invited Mike and Susan Harmon, together with their children, and Frank and Molly Armstrong to come in for drinks to celebrate. Mike and Susan opted for a glass of wine and I’d got in Kia-Ora and Ribena for Claire and Charlie. I’d laid out some toys, books, paper and drawing pens and crayons on the dining table for them, as well as some crisps and snacks. It pained me a little to see Charlie sift through the objects I had so carefully ordered. He seemed to have no thought for rearranging the colours of the crayons, nor the size order of the books and toys. Oh well; I resolved to do it myself later.
‘Oh, aren’t you thoughtful, Alison!’ said Susan, looking around.
‘Well, I know what it’s like for children when adults are talking together.’
‘’Course you do. We can’t wait to meet Lucy, isn’t that right, children?’
Claire looked up from her drawing and smiled. ‘It’ll be nice to have a little girl next door,’ she said emphatically, glancing at her brother.
‘Have you got a photo of Lucy, Alison?’ asked Mike, looking around the room. My mouth dried up suddenly.
‘No … well … yes, of course I have … er … but they’re still in boxes. Lots of things still to unpack – or at my other house, you see.’
Charlie was looking around too. What would they ask for next? ‘Alison … got no TV?’
I don’t approve of children being allowed to use adults’ names without permission, but I let this pass.
‘No, sorry, not yet, Charlie. But it won’t be long before Lucy’s here for you to play with – just another two or three weeks, I hope.’
After all my preparations, I thought, all Charlie could think about was television! Never mind. My Lucy wouldn’t be glued to a screen – I was certain of that. I turned to the Armstrongs.
‘Now, what would you like, Molly?’
‘Eee, I’d love a cup of tea, pet, if it’s not too much trouble, and Frank’s noticed you’ve got some beer over there. He’s not really a wine man, are you, love?’
‘Yes of course. Here, Frank, here’s the opener and a glass. Just help yourself while I get Betty’s tea.’
‘Thanks, pet, that’s grand. I hope we’re going to get the guided tour after, are we?’
‘It’ll be a pleasure, Frank.’
‘You’ve done an amazing job here, Alison,’ said Mike, looking around the sitting room.
‘Thank you, Michael … Mike. I’m pleased with the way it’s turned out. That’s partly down to the decorators you recommended. They’ve been wonderful – completely reliable. I’m really grateful.’
Mike followed me out to the kitchen. The back of my neck began to prickle uncomfortably to feel his physical presence so close behind me. However, he seemed rather a nice man – quieter than Susan, and thoughtful.
‘Wow, what a difference!’ he said, looking around.
‘Well, it was basically a sound house, and the Turners had left everything in pretty good condition. All I’ve done is a bit of window-dressing.’
I put the small teapot on a tray with a milk jug.
‘Can I get the cups, Alison?’ Mike asked.
‘Just in that cupboard above the bread bin.’
It was a relief to watch him walk to the other side of the kitchen.
‘Oh, that’s very tidy,’ said Mike, opening the cupboard and smiling back at me. ‘You’re a woman after my own heart.’
‘Cups in the front, saucers at the back on the left.’
‘Thanks. I’m so sorry you’ve had to do all this on your own, Alison. Susie told me … It can’t have been easy.’
I sighed tragically and nodded. ‘I’ll be very glad when Lucy joins me up here at last – it has been a bit … lonely … on my own.’
