4. The Old Woman

Winston left the postal depot just after eleven thirty. He was annoyed. The delivery round had taken longer than usual, as there had been a couple of larger parcels among the usual collection of letters and advertising flyers. And of course, the people weren't in when he tried to deliver the parcels, so he had to leave them a 'missed delivery' card, and then carry the parcels all the way back to the depot.

He sighed. Well, at least he still had enough time to walk round to the nursery and collect his children. It was a nice day, at least. As he walked along Florentine Road, past the gates leading into Wildbridge Park, he glanced over towards the children's play area. It was currently deserted. He smiled to himself. The boys loved going to the park and playing on the swings, the slides, and the climbing frame. They weren't as keen on the roundabout, though; it tended to make them sick.

His smile turned into a frown. Rochelle had suggested that they should get the children looked at by a specialist, to see if they have any inner ear problems. He had told her not to worry, and that the children would grow out of it, but she kept nagging him about it. He tried his best to ignore her, though. He remembered when he was a child, he used to get sick on the dodgems at the funfair, and nobody had needed to check to see if he had any 'inner ear' problems.

As he crossed the road next to Church Hill Primary School, he looked at the old school building. It wouldn't be long before Reginald was attending the school, rather than going to the nursery next door. He worried how Rudy would cope without his big brother for company. Of the two, Reginald was the more outgoing, the more willing to make friends. Perhaps a little too outgoing. However, Rudy was just too quiet, even for his liking. He didn't seem to have made any friends at the nursery. Even Mrs Lavire, who ran the Church Hill Nursery, had noticed how quiet Rudy was. He stopped outside the entrance to the nursery and frowned. He had just realised that he didn't even know Mrs Lavire's first name, and his children had been attending her nursery for two years or more.

He checked his watch. It was nearly five minutes to twelve. He was a few minutes early. He looked around. None of the other parents had arrived yet. They won't be long, he thought to himself as he leaned carefully on the low wooden fence that surrounded the nursery and waited patiently next to the entrance. Soon, he noticed several cars pulling up nearby. Other parents arriving to collect their children, no doubt. He looked suspiciously at each car, checking that it was one belonging to a parent, and not some pervert trying to snatch one of the children.

There was Mrs Carpenter, here to pick up little Julian. And there was Miss Harrigan, the Bartholomews' nanny. Or was she an au pair? he wondered. He wasn't entirely sure he understood the difference.

He sighed and looked around. His eyes picked up a flash of colour approaching from the other side of the road. He regarded the figure suspiciously. It was one of the Green-Johnsons, in a bright red suit, here to collect the twins. Winston frowned. What was it they were called? Something Shakespearean, wasn't it? He racked his brains. Ah, that was it – Ophelia and Laertes. Strange names, even for a pair of... He paused, unsure what he should call those people these days. He looked at the waiting father. Should he still call him that? He wasn't sure if it was Alan or Philip. They looked so alike, and always seemed to dress the same. Almost like twins themselves.

He looked around again at the gathering crowd of parents, nannies, au pairs, and whatnot that were now surrounding him. Fortunately, he recognised all the people who had turned up at the nursery. All parents here to collect their children. Not a pervert among them. Although he wasn't sure about the Green-Johnsons. He sighed with relief, and glanced at his watch again. Any moment now...

The doors of the nursery were suddenly flung open, and a dozen or more small children rushed out. There was Reginald at the front, a few inches taller than the other children, and easily the quickest runner. As Reginald hurtled down the path and flung his arms around his father's waist, Winston looked around, trying to locate Rudy. Ah, there he was, at the back as usual. He waved and shouted to his younger son, who looked up at his father and meekly waved back. Winston waited with Reginald as Rudy slowly made his way over to them.

Once Rudy had joined them, Winston pulled Reginald's arms from around his waist, and took both of his children by the hand. He looked back towards the nursery, and nodded cordially at Mrs Lavire, who was standing by the door and waving goodbye to all the children.

“Right, kids,” Winston told his two sons, “let's go back home and get something to eat. Then we can go to the park.” Both boys cheered and hugged their father. He smiled warmly at them, before leading them across the road, heading back towards their house.

Once they arrived home, Winston sent the two boys upstairs to get changed, while he prepared lunch. Jam and peanut butter sandwiches for the children, and a simple salad for himself. They sat down at the table together to eat their lunches. They boys were excitable, anticipating an afternoon of fun in the park. Several times, Winston had to sternly tell them to calm down and finish their lunch.

Once Winston had finished his own lunch, he went upstairs to get changed out of his work uniform while children finished eating. When he returned, he saw that Reginald had finished his lunch and had started to clear the table of crockery and cutlery.

“No, no, no,” Winston smiled as he shook his head. “Leave that for your mother. You know she doesn't like it when you break stuff,” he added gravely.

Reginald looked disappointed as he placed the plates he was carrying back on the table. Winston sighed. He had noticed that Reginald had started trying to help his mother around the house. He disapproved of that kind of behaviour, and had tried to put a stop to it. But Rochelle seemed to encourage it. This annoyed him. Reginald needed to learn that clearing the table after lunch and dinner was a woman's job, like tidying up and hoovering, washing up, ironing, and other such trivial domestic tasks. Otherwise he might grow up to be a pansy, like those Green-Johnsons.

“Right, kids. Go and put your park shoes on,” Winston ordered.

The boys both rushed out into the hall, pushing and shoving each other in their excitement and desire to be the first to get ready.

“No fighting,” Winston shouted at them angrily, “or you can stay in your rooms all afternoon.”

The children suddenly fell silent, and quietly went about the business of putting their park shoes on. Each boy had two pairs of shoes; a smart pair for the nursery or when they went into town with their mother, and a rougher, dirtier pair for playing in the park or in the garden.

Winston strode over to stand in the doorway leading from the front room into the hallway. Reginald was ready, but Rudy was still struggling with his laces. Winston sighed, and bent down to tie them properly.

“You should teach your brother how to do this,” Winston told Reginald.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I've been trying, dad,” Reginald pleaded, “Rudy just can't do them up tight enough.”

Winston sighed with dissatisfaction, and regarded Rudy critically. Sometimes, he was just too dependent on his brother. He needed to learn to look after himself. Starting with being able to tie his own laces. Winston shook his head despondently, and retrieved his coat from its hook.

“Come on then,” he told the boys as he opened the front door.

Immediately, Reginald raced out of the house and down the path. He stopped at the road, and waited for his brother and father to join him. Winston closed the door, then led the children round to Wildbridge Park.

When they arrived, Winston noticed that a few of the other parents had also brought their children to the park for the afternoon. As the boys raced over to the swings and the slides, and started playing with the other children, Winston wandered over to where Mrs Carpenter and Miss Harrigan were standing. He chatted to them for a short while, all the time keeping a close eye on his two sons.

As Reginald ascended to the top of the largest slide for the tenth time or more, Winston glanced around the park. A sudden chill gripped his body, like a gust of freezing wind had blown right through him. There was an elderly woman, sitting on a bench not far from the children's play area. She appeared to be watching the children play. He had never seen her before. And something about her demeanour made him nervous.

Winston gestured towards the elderly woman, drawing the attention of both Mrs Carpenter and Miss Harrigan to her.

“Have you seen her around before?” he asked.

“No, never.” Mrs Carpenter replied, while Miss Harrigan simply shook her head.

Winston nodded cautiously. “No, me neither,” he noted.

Both Mrs Carpenter and Miss Harrigan cast worried glances towards their young charges. It was clear to Winston that they were also nervous about the elderly woman. He nodded thoughtfully, and glanced back towards his own children. They were still happily playing, having both moved on to the swings.

“Could you keep an eye on Reginald and Rudy for a moment?” he asked Mrs Carpenter. “I'll go and have a chat with her,” he added by was of explanation, as he gestured towards the elderly woman.

“Of course,” Mrs Carpenter replied, a wave of relief crossing her face.

Winston glanced towards Miss Harrigan. She nodded cautiously, a faint smile developing on her lips.

Winston smiled to himself as he strode over to where the elderly woman was sitting. He liked playing the knight in shining armour, the good citizen. It always impressed the ladies. Well, apart from Rochelle...

As Winston approached the elderly woman, she turned her head stiffly to look at him, and clasped her bag tightly in both hands. Worried that she might think him a threat, Winston smiled at the woman as he neared the bench. Relieved that he appeared friendly, the woman smiled back at him, and placed her bag by her side.

“Hello, my lady,” Winston greeted the woman. “I don't believe I have seen you here before.”

The woman continued smiling at him, and nodded towards the children. “Maybe not,” she replied. “I do come here occasionally, to get some fresh air and watch the children play.”

Winston nodded uncertainly. Perhaps she had been there on other days when he had been in the park with Reginald and Rudy, and he simply had not seen her. In any case, the elderly woman did not seem a threat of any kind.

He relaxed, and introduced himself. “I'm Winston, Winston Staples,” he said. “The two boys on the swings, they are my sons, Reginald and Rudy. Reginald is the taller one.”

The old woman nodded, casting her gaze over Winston's children. “You can call me Jackie,” she replied, before holding her hand out to point towards Reginald. “Your son is going to grow up to be a fine athlete,” she told Winston.

“Hopefully,” he smiled in return. “At the moment, he wants to be a gymnast.”

Jackie noticed the sadness in Winston's voice. “You'd rather he did something else?” she inquired.

Winston sighed, and sat down wearily on the bench.

“Well,” he began, casting a critical gaze towards Reginald, “I was kind of hoping he'd take up football.” He turned to look at Jackie. “You know, so he could take care of me and his mother in our old age,” he laughed.

Jackie smiled at Winston. “Yes, I had high hopes for my daughter as well,” she replied despondently.

“Oh?” said Winston, willing Jackie to elaborate.

“Well, she did have a good job, I suppose,” Jackie continued, “A solicitor. And a nice husband and a big house.” The sadness hung heavy in her voice as she stared into the distance. “All gone now,” she sighed. “They got divorced, and he took everything.” She turned to look at Winston again. “Don't let that happen to you,” she told him earnestly.

Winston laughed. “Don't worry, it won't,” he assured her. “I love my wife, and Rochelle loves me.” He regarded Jackie with curiosity. Her daughter can't have been a very good solicitor, if she let her husband take everything, he thought.

Jackie smiled as if she knew what he was thinking, and turned her head to stare into the distance again. “Oh well,” she sighed, “at least she survived all the upheaval.”

“Where is she now?” Winston asked, with genuine curiosity.

“Oh, she lives with me at the moment,” Jackie replied with a smile. “And her daughter – my beautiful grand-daughter.” She turned back towards Winston, the sadness returning to her eyes. “Although they are both away at the moment,” she added with resignation, “leaving me all alone.” She pulled her coat around her shoulders, and shivered.

Winston nodded and laughed. He could see what was happening here. Not that he minded. Another chance to play the part of the chivalrous knight.

“Well, my lady,” he asked, “in that case, would you like me to escort you back to your home?”

“Oh, would you?” Jackie replied innocently. “That would be so kind of you.”

Winston nodded and stood up. “Just let me check that the boys will be alright,” he told her.

Jackie nodded, and watched Winston as he walked briskly back towards the children's play area. He spoke to both Reginald and Rudy, to let them know where he was going, and then to Mrs Carpenter, confirming that she would be able to keep an eye on the boys while he was gone. He then returned to Jackie and helped her up from the bench.

“And where would my lady like to be taken?” he asked with a smile.

“Oh, just out of the gate and across the road,” she replied, clasping her bag in one hand and pointing in the vague direction of her house with the other.

“Very good, my lady,” he replied dryly, as he took her by the arm and accompanied her out of Wildbridge Park.

Following her directions, Winston escorted Jackie out of Wildbridge Park. She led him to the end of Florentine Road, before turning right down Frobisher Avenue. After about a hundred yards, they crossed the road and headed down into a short cul-de-sac. As they walked down the cul-de-sac, Winston's mouth dropped open in surprise. At the end of the cul-de-sac stood a large, foreboding half-timbered house.

The black timber frames and pale plaster infill seemed incredibly out-of-place among the modern semi-detached and detached properties that lined the cul-de-sac. Winston had only seen houses like that in old photographs. He looked at Jackie, his mouth still hanging open, then back to the house.

“Wow!” he exclaimed eventually. “That house must be really ancient. I didn't know there were old houses like that still standing around here.”

Jackie smiled knowingly. “Been in my family for generations,” she told him. “A good couple of hundred years old.”

Winston looked at her in shock. “You live here?” he asked incredulously.

She nodded. “It might be old, but it's comfortable. Got central heating and hot water and all the modern stuff,” she replied. “My daughter saw to that, before her divorce. Didn't want me living in a cold and draughty house,” she added with a laugh.

Stunned, Winston let go of her arm as he tried to comprehend the situation. Jackie took a couple of paces towards the house, then stopped. She opened her bag and fumbled around inside for her key. Once she had found it, she turned and looked at Winston, who was regarding her once more with curiosity.

“Would you like to come inside for a cup of tea?” she asked him.

Winston hesitated. Much like Jackie when he first saw her, there was something about the house that made him nervous, and he almost felt like running away. “No, no,” he replied, before remembering his manners. “But thank you for the offer. I... er... have to get back to my children.” He gestured behind him, in the vague direction of Wildbridge Park.

Jackie nodded sadly. “Well, then,” she said, “perhaps we will see each other again some time.” She turned and walked the few steps to the front door of the house. “Maybe in the park, with your children,” she added, as she opened the door.

Winston nodded and smiled at her, as she stepped inside her house. Once she was safely inside, he retreated out of the cul-de-sac, almost running back to Wildbridge Park to collect his two sons and take them home for tea.

Jackie watched him go. “Farewell for now, my young gentleman,” she whispered as she closed the door.