8. STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

With a daughter slowly growing up, Daisy gets a few worries on her mind

STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

8. A Grown Woman

Phoebe placed her cup on top of a saucer on the side table in Daisy’s living room and stared with a troubled expression on her face at her old friend.

“I’ve not seen you like this before, love,” she said wistfully, “remember the good times we had, you and me, free as a pair of birds, we were…”

“Lovebirds?” asked Daisy, “because that’s what it feels now that we were. Two lovebirds and a whole world to cycle though…”

“As long as we got back in time for work, that is,” laughed Phoebe, “but you don’t seem like the Daisy who was quite happy to strip most of her clothes off and dive into a fresh water lake if we chanced to come upon one.”

“Well, there wasn’t usually anyone else around,” reminded Daisy, “but these days we seem to be hemmed in by other people. And I’ve got the blasted job in the Ryfield school kitchen. It hems me in, keeps me away from where I ought to be and that’s with my kids, at home.”

“Where are they now, love?” asked Phoebe, because there was no sign of them in the house unless they were as quiet as little mice and that woud be most unnatural.

“Oh, out and about,” sighed Daisy.

“But not here?”

“Of course they’re not here! That would be hemming me in good and proper if they were clambering all over me when I’m talking to my oldest friend!”

“That’s it, love, your oldest friend. That makes me sound geriatric!”

“You know what I mean!”

“Anyway, what’s the matter, Daisy? You got that job of yours because it’s in school hours, which is what you really want, so you’ve got the best of both worllds … hours to fit in with your kids and a few extra bob in your purse!”

“And only a few! But I thought school hours would be the same for every school, but they’re not! Isabel and Brian’s school finishes the school day at half past three and Ryfield where I work soldiers on until four because for some reason they want an extra half hour at lunch time. So by the time I cycle home the kids have beaten me back, and I’ve had to give Isabel a key in order for them to get into the house. But, and here’s the niggling bit, I’ve got no control over who they bring in with them.”

“You mean, bogey men and hoodlums”

“No, silly. But my lass is eleven now and the other day a boy said he wanted to marry her. It was almost like a proposal and I’d have taken it literally because he seemed to be another little lad who ought to have been in short pants until Isabel told me that he was fifteen and starting his first job after leaving school next week!”

“He is? What’s his name? I might know him because I get to know quite a few people in this neck of the woods, being an agent for Betterware and knocking on most doors.”

“The boy? Ricky, I think she said he was Ricky Shepherd…”

“The Shepherd boy? I know who you mean. But you say he’s fifteen and left school? I thought he was twelve if he was a day!”

“That’s the trouble. He only looks to be about the same age as Isabel, but he’s a few years older, and according to him he wants to marry her!”

“But he can’t! I mean, she can’t! Not for ages yet! She’s only eleven!”

“Add that to what they get taught in school these days, about the facts of life, I mean we were never told one thing about getting in the family way and having babies when I was at school and now, well, she knows all about the birds and the bees.”

“But she’s not a bird or a bee, and what we humans do is a world away from what they do! I should know! I missed out on so much when you were courting Fred but I’ve caught up now, and boy, haven’t I caught up! And the great joy of my life is that at my age I can’t have a baby to spoil things.”

“You mean, you’ve got a male caller?”

“More than one, Daisy. But if the truth were to be told I’d give them all up if we could go back to the way we were back in the twenties! Because we were free! Anyway, back to your worries. Can’t you get away from Ryfeld school a bit earlier? Like half an hour?”

“I did ask cook and she said no. The thing is I’m the woman who cleans most of the pots and pans and other utensils and they’re barely done by four o’clock as it is and I find myself running late. Then Ryfield is further away from home than the kids school is. It only takes them, what five minutes to walk home and it takes me almost half an our on my bike.”

“So they beat you home by the best part of an hour?”

“Exactly, and who knows who they’re inviting in? And that Shepherd boy can come in and she can take him to her room. She’s already put a notice on her door that says keep out! And you do know what can happen in private bedrooms!”

“But not young Isabel!”

“I think you’re right, but it’s in my head that someone, a different boy, maybe, one who’s better developed, might want to take advantage of her. She’s only eleven but I have to buy her sanitary stuff, you know, she’ started almost a year ago. And to look at her you’d think she’s close to being fifteen herself when she puts a dab of make-up on.”

“So what are you going to do, love?”

“I think I’m going to have to pack up my job, though I don’t want to. I think it’s for the best in the long run.

“Poor you. And your little bit of independence will be gone too, Weren’t you planning to buy a little car? One of those small Fords?”

“Oh that was dreaming! I can’t even drive, for goodness’ sake. I know quite a lot of women drive these days, more than used to, but me? I’m not cut out for it.”

There was a rattle of the door as Isabel closely followed by Brian rushed in from whatever game they’d been playing outside.

“Hokey kissed her!” shouted Brian.

“No he didn’t, mum!” screeched Isabel. “Hokey doesn’t kiss girls, and anyway, there’s something wrong with him. He’s retarded!”

“He’s got what they call Down Syndrome and he can’t help it,” put in Phoebe, “and one thing he isn’t is horrible or nasty!”

“That’s two things,” smirked Brian.

“Anyway, he hardly kissed me at all,” explained isabel, “and if anyone’s going to kiss me I’d prefer it to be Hokey. He wouldn’t try to go any further"

“What do you mean, love?” asked Daisy.

“Oh, you know, mum,” grinned Isabel, “You’re a grown woman with a bosom!”

© Peter Rogerson, 03.03.23

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