Chapter 34: Gwyn's Illness

Despite Margaret's good intentions, she was unable to support Sheila as she wished. There were several reasons for this.

Firstly, both mothers were taking and collecting their sons from two different schools. This restricted the time they could be together weekdays. And it took quite a while to walk up and down the steep hill which separated them.

Secondly, visiting and having the Matthews visit them was no longer the attraction it had been for Gordon. His friend Jack was no longer at home. He had no one special to talk with.
Thirdly, Sheila discovered that she was pregnant. The difficult walk to and from the Watsons was daunting. She could catch a bus most of the way between her home and the town centre, but a diversion to the Watson's would cancel out catching the bus.

All of this meant that Michael and Rob saw less of each other, although they met occasionally at weekends. When the Easter Holiday came, Margaret took him to the Matthews just twice. But when they did meet they remained good friends.

Luckily, Michael had another friend who helped him pass his spare time happily. His cousin Joan and he could play more games together now that he was older and her visits grew more frequent.

"Don't leave Gwyn out, you two!" Margaret urged them. There was little hope of that. Three years old, Gwyn was a Michael admirer. She followed him about, imitated him, gave in to him and was always happiest when he was at home and playing with her. She was a lovely looking child, with a translucent, smooth skin and kind blue eyes which often sparkled with merriment. She had straight black hair cut in a fringe across her forehead. She was always laughing and smiling, bright and full of life. Except when she was ill.

She submitted willingly to the hairdresser's scissors when Margaret took her to Monquers in Calkeld Lane.

"Hold your head still, love!" said the man. She laughed as he snipped away at her hair and some fell to the floor. When he'd finished cutting, he sprayed her with scent which smelled lovely. Finally, he removed the cloth from around her shoulders.

She laughed again and said, "It tickles, Mam. It's gone down my neck!" She jumped up and down and a lock of hair fell to the floor from under her dress. That made the man laugh and say, "You're a lively one, aren't you?"

Margaret thought, "She's a joy to take anywhere. So easy to please!"

"The man said, I'm a lively one, didn't he Mam?" she reported to Michael when she told him about her visit to the hairdresser. After that, although he still didn't like going to have his hair cut, Michael stopped making a fuss about it.

During the school week, Gwyn took the place once occupied by Michael. She knelt on the chair at the parlour window, waved to everybody going by and laughed delightedly when they waved back. Some days, her mother let Gwyn take Jesse the cat to the front door for Celia to see her. Celia would stop on her way back to work and stroke the kitten. "One sweetie for you love,"she would say, "and one for Michael after school!"

Celia saw Michael one Saturday at one'o clock. She was on her way home from work for the weekend. He told her about how he was enjoying school. He had plenty to say. She stayed a few minutes encouraging him to talk with her. The two children were two bright lights in Celia's restricted life. She looked forward to her brief encounters with them.

During the middle of February, Gwyn was never there when Celia passed the house. Ten days went by and Gwyn had not appeared once on her doorstep or at the parlour window. Celia wondered why. After a second weekend there was still no Gwyn. She knocked on the door. Margaret answered and Celia asked, "Is the little girl all right? I was just wondering, not seeing her like."

Margaret told her Gwyn was ill and in bed. She'd been very poorly but was improving and feeling a bit better, and she was sure that Gwyn would like to see Celia. Unfortunately, there was no time to spare. The buzzer at the mill had just gone, and Celia dare not be late for work.

"Will it be all right if I call tomorrow? I'll make time by leaving home a bit earlier. And I'll bring her a bit of something."

"That would be nice," said Margaret.
"I'll be off then. See you tomorrow."
"What a nice, kind woman!" Margaret thought, as Celia bustled off.

Gwyn had been far from well. It was the usual trouble: her weak lungs. She lay in bed, finding it hard to breathe and coughing frequently, day and night. She had sleepless nights. After four nights, Gordon, who had been kept awake hour after hour, was exhausted and went into Michael's bedroom.

"Shove over Michael, I need some sleep." Michael didn't mind. In fact, he enjoyed having his Dad with him, although it was a bit cramped -- there was not much room for the pair of them in his single bed. At least he didn't have any nightmares while his Dad was there.

Nan and the aunts came to see Gwyn. Nan said, "Poor little girl. That's a terrible cough she has."

Aunt Elsie warned, "It's this place. "She indicated the patches of damp on the ceiling and right down one wall. "You'll have to move out of here."

Margaret replied sadly, "I know, Elsie. We're doing our best aren't we?"
"Yes love, I know you are. I was only thinking out loud."

When Celia visited her, Gwyn was definitely improving. She had had a decent night's sleep, her temperature had gone down and she was breathing more easily. Margaret answered the door, not looking so worried as the day before.

"Come in,"she said. She showed Celia the narrow, steep staircase which went up sideways from the passage. "You can go straight up. She's in the bedroom on the right."

Celia ascended the linoed stairs.

"Same pattern as mine!"she noted.

She went into the room. Gwyn was a tiny, wan figure in her mother's and father's big double bed. She was propped up on two extra pillows and had just finished some soup that her mother had made specially for her.

"Hello love," Celia said, smiling, "How are you feeling today?"

Gwyn smiled a greeting back. "Better, thank you Celia. You've never been in our house before have you?"

"No, but I just had to come and see you. I've missed you. I bet you can't guess what I've brought you!"
 "My sweetie?"
 "No, here it is! Look! Do you like it?"

She handed over a cat made of a soft material. It was black with big green eyes. Gwyn hugged it to her and said. "Oh yes it's lovely! Look Mam, look what Celia's brought me!"

"Why Celia, that is good of you. Have you said thank-you our Gwyn?"

"Thank-you Celia!"responded Gwyn, pushing herself down the bed and taking the cat with her so that both their heads were left together peeping out from under the bedclothes. "He's just like Jesse."

Celia had to go. It was time for work at Storeys' Moor Lane Mill: the buzzer had just gone. "I'll come and see you again. I'll leave a toffee with your mother for your Michael. I'll save yours for you until you're better.

Ta-ra!"

"Ta-ra! Celia", replied Gwyn drowsily. When Margaret returned to the bedroom after seeing Celia out, the child was fast asleep.

Celia was delighted that her present had given pleasure to Gwyn and pleased to see that she was improving. It was one worry less. Celia was full of worries and very depressed. She was having terrible rows with a neighbour who hated cats for one thing, a woman who was forever complaining about Celia's pets. She could be very abusive and her attacks were really upsetting.

Fatty Townsend at work was worse than ever. Only last week, he'd given a new girl a bad time. The girl was not much more than a child, just fourteen and straight out of school. Fatty had followed her when she went outside to the lav. About ten minutes later, he came back with a nasty frown and a scratch on his face. He went to the sink in the corner of the workroom and washed his hands and face.

"What are you all staring at?" he said glaring at the women. Nobody answered. They all carried on with their work, except Celia, who headed for the outside door.

"Where do you think you're going?" he snarled at her.
"To the lav." She replied.
"You'll have to wait. There's somebody already out there."
"I can't wait. Do you want me to do it in here?"
"No way," he sneered, "you smell bad enough as it is!" He laughed -- but nobody else did. They all thought he was horrible.

She ignored him and went to try and find out what had happened.The young lass was still in the toilet shed. Celia coaxed her out, "Come on love it's only me. He's gone. I won't hurt you."

The door opened and the pretty, thin girl came out. She'd been crying and rubbing her eyes which were all red-rimmed.

"Did he hurt you?"
"No!"said the child.
"Did he try anything?"
"No!" said the child.

Celia hugged her and the girl cried for a long time.

"Come on now," said Celia, "we'd best go back in. We don't want to give him any excuse to cause you any more bother."

They went in and returned to their work. Fatty didn't say anything. Nobody spoke a word. They all worked in silence

"Cat got your tongues?" he snarled. Everybody ignored him.

That night, Celia lay awake in bed thinking about her life.

"Useless! That's what I am. No use to anybody or anything. I might as well be dead!"

The thought registered and festered.

On the Saturday afternoon, after work, she went up-town in her only decent clothes. She went to see Cornhill, the solicitor. He was not available. She asked for an appointment the following Saturday. She'd decided to make her will.