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Rated: E · Fiction · Romance/Love · #2262069
Joshua is reluctant to accept that people might gossip about him and Helena


4. The Stalker

The corner shop was a tiny affair with barely enough room for a counter and Lucy its owner, and maybe two customers on a good day. It was on the corner of the cul de sac, Bright Close, where Helena had lived since before Rosie had been born. It was the street where two of her three marriages had briefly blossomed before their autumns had come and husbands had drifted away to seasons new.

And she pushed the door open and struggled in, past a display of washing products and dish cloths until she reached the counter, with Lucy perched on a high stool behind it, wearing the inevitable mask.

“My, you look done in, my dear,” smiled Lucy.

“It’s the wind. It’s blowing a gale out there, with muck blowing everywhere and I only had my windows cleaned yesterday,” Helena told her, adjusting her own mask.

“I heard that old Joshua had his ladders up at your place,” murmured Lucy, “news goes around, you know. Now what can I get for you?”

“You heard? Well, I suppose folks haven’t got anything better to gossip about than the state of my windows,” grumbled Helena, who hated the idea of being the subject of idle chatter.

“It’s not your windows so much as the old gentleman and his leather,” grinned Lucy. “It’s said round here, and I should think you know, being one of the more established residents, that his ladders only come out when he’s got a twinkle in his eye and a glow in his shorts!”

“What on Earth can you mean?” demanded Helena, the reference to Joshua’s attire suggesting more than she wanted to hear. After all, he was just a neighbour, and if a neighbour wanted to clean her windows, who was she to object?

“You know what tongues wag round this neck of the woods. Nobody can keep a secret for long. Now what did you say you wanted?”

“I didn’t,” snapped Helena “but seeing that you’re asking I’ll have a bottle of that!” She pointed to the wine rack, which contained largely supermarket specials at Lucy’s exclusive prices.

“The red, dear?” asked the still grinning Lucy.

“The red like I always have,” acknowledged Helena.

Lucy turned to the counter and removed a dusty bottle from its rack, and when she turned back round she noticed the door opening and another customer complete with white face mask forcing his way in.

“Well, talk of the devil!” she squawked.

“There’s no need for calling me names or I’ll take my pension to the supermarket!” growled Joshua Grindlestone.

Helena turned to him and smiled. “Am I being stalked?” she asked, “and how is it that half the street knows you’ve been doing my windows?”

“You don’t have to look much further than the dear lady selling you that bottle of wine,” he said, “and I’ll bet it’s from Supersavers, but twice the price that it was when it started collecting its dust in that exclusive emporium!”

“Someone had to fetch and carry it!” scowled Lucy.

“Anyway, what if I was cleaning your windows? What’s that got to do with our neighbours and their dogs?” growled Joshua.

“Oh, I don’t think their dogs are that bothered,” smiled Helena lightly.

“It’ll start going round that you’ve turned to drink,” he told her, “seeing as you’ve bought it from the local megaphone!”

“What can I get you then?” asked Lucy, addressing him directly, over Helena’s head.

“I’ve come to settle up my account,” he told her with a glare. “Now how much is it I owe you?”

She reached behind her for a small notebook and thumbed through its pages until she came to the one she was looking for. “It’s not much,” she said, and told him.

“Then I’ll pay it, and let you sell me an overpriced bottle of scotch on top,” he growled.

“And I’ll book a trip to the Costa Brava on the strength of it!” giggled Lucy.

“Anyway Helena, do you want any help carrying your shopping home?” asked Joshua, taking his own bottle from Lucy.

“What? One little bottle?” she asked, “I’m not that frail yet!”

“I thought I’d offer,” he said, sounding slightly grumpy.

“And its very sweet of you, Joshua. But I’ll tell you what. If I carry my own shopping I’ll walk home with you and if you play your cards right I’ll make you a cup of tea too.”

That perked him up. “You’re on,” he said, “your tea’s nicer than mine.”

Lucy watched them as they left her shop together, and there being no other customers she removed her mask.

“Well I never,” she whispered to herself, “wait until I tell the girls about this!”

As they walked slowly along Bright Close towards their homes Joshua paused.

“I don’t like it,” he grumbled.

“You don’t like what?” asked Helena with a questioning frown.

“Everyone knowing my business. Next thing it’ll be going round that we’ve been sleeping together. I mean, the very cheek of it!”

“They’re not that bad,” Helena told him, “and anyway, we haven’t.”

“Wait till you get your bed sheets on the line next time you wash them! Their eyes will be out on stalks and they’ll add two and two together and come to anything but four!”

“It’s in your mind, Joshua. People round here aren’t really that bad, though Lucy does like to add fuel to any fire going.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” he grunted.

“Then don’t walk with me if you feel like that. It’s a bit offensive, you know, when you tell me I’m not good enough for you to want to sleep with me.”

“I didn’t mean that!”

“It’s what it sounded like. Look, Joshua, what does it matter if the odd neighbour jumps to the wrong conclusions about what we are doing or not doing? Anyway, what would be wrong with us spending the odd night together? We’re old enough for it to not matter, for goodness’ sake.”

“Of course.” He looked at her. “You mean, you’d want to?”

“I didn’t say that! For goodness sake, Joshua, you’re as bad as the rest of them! All I want to do is live what’s left of my life and take whatever might be coming my way, and if I like it then I’ll do my damnedest to enjoy as much of it as I can.!”

He looked at her and sighed. “That’s what was wrong with my Peggy too,” he muttered, “I never understood her, either.”

“Then come in and have a cup of tea and forget whatever other people might say. Or is that going one stage too far to be easily understood?”

He paused and looked at her. Then he smiled. “If you carry on like that I might start loving you, and at my age it could be bad for my old heart,” he said.

“Then a cup of tea will have to do,” she smiled. “And whatever else comes along, well, we’ll send it packing for the sake of your heart!”

© Peter Rogerson 16.11.21

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