Maria and her Mother

My mother had been finally released from hospital in the last few weeks and we were staying for short while at my grandmother’s house in Moorgreen Road in West Cowes. We had been there just over a fortnight and there had no sign or visitations from her Voices and all in all she was in high spirits and seemed much happier and self-assured. The young girls from next door to my grandmother Mary and Margaret had called around to see her bringing her home made cakes and flowers from their garden and all in all things seemed to be much improved.

After breakfast today my gran mother gave me a pencilled list, asking me to,

‘Nip up to Jim Maughan’s dear and get a few things… and be bloody careful with them eggs.’

A large shining maroon Humber Sceptre motor car was parked right out Mr Maughan’s small corner green grocery shop, with it engine still running. Inside this luxurious car standing defiantly on its hind legs was a small white dog yapping and scratching at the window. I examined and drank in as much of this beautiful car as I could whilst the small within dog grew evermore apoplectic with rage.

‘Nice having your Mum back I expect’ trilled Mr Maughan in his usual whistling hiss.

‘Now then, half of cooked ham…’

Mr Maughan continued to complete my grandmothers list in distant shrilling monotone his words whispering out of open widow as he moved, list in hand from shelf to shelf.

My attention at that moment had been taken by quite the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, her eyes, wide and dark as mystery flashed and sparkled like Benzies widow at Christmas. I took the time and opportunity to smile at her and waited and expected a response, there was none.

‘Well, as soon as we finish up here, Marie and I are going to Newport to shop before returning to East Cowes’, the voice belonged to a woman who was being served by Mrs Maughan.

The woman’s voice was high and scratchy, pretentiously extending and pronouncing her words oddly, whilst dismissing her conversation with whisking affected hand movements.

‘My Husband has taken up a commission in Germany Pro Tem. whilst we, alas, are forced to linger here on the island in East Cowes for the summer.

‘Germany… Oh I say, East Cowes, whereabouts in East…

‘Oh Please, the woman interjected, do you mind, I almost forgot, can I also have a tin of peas?

‘Petite pois’? Her demand hung in the air.

Both Mr and Mrs Maughan Looked at her askance.

Moments later, in a perfumed flounce and tinkle of the shop door they were gone.

‘Bloody overners’, piped Mr Maughan, through his teeth.

‘Lady ‘bloody muck’ more like if you ask me’, tutted Mrs Maughan, clearly unimpressed.

My mind was in a whirl.