Alice's Friend
Created | Updated Aug 23, 2005
Alice slipped into her best frock and glanced anxiously at her watch. Only another twenty minutes to go until Glen arrived. Satisfied with her appearance she headed off towards the kitchen, humming a little tune along the way. Carefully arranging the fruit scones onto a baking tray she set the oven dial to low, and slid them onto the top shelf. Alice knew exactly how Glen preferred his scones, warmed through, and filled with lashings of butter and strawberry jam. One of life’s little luxuries he used to say. Today there was an extra surprise in store, fresh clotted cream to top the jam. Glen was always harping on about his growing waistline, and she didn’t want to lure him into too many bad habits. Still, a little treat wouldn’t hurt, not now and again.
All in all she thought they were a good match. They shared many of the same interests, and they both had a good sense of humour. Sometimes Glen could be quite the talker. When he really got into the swing of things he hardly seemed to pause for breath, and it became almost impossible to get a word in edgeways. Still, nobody was perfect and she didn’t mind too much, having always considered herself more of a listener than a talker. In many ways Glen had become a replacement figure for her Bill, although in her heart she knew she could never love anyone else in quite the same way as her beloved husband.
It had been almost four years since Bill had passed away, but Alice had never fully recovered from his loss. She’d always imagined they would grow old together; sadly it seemed someone up there had bigger plans in store for Bill. Of course over time she had grown to accept it, but it didn’t take away the moments of loneliness, or make up for the days when she had accidentally set the dining table for two. Only then would she remember that they would never share another meal, that she would never see his familiar face across the table. And that was when the tears would start, large salty pearls which slid steadily down her cheeks.
Both of their daughters had rallied round for the funeral, although the subject of death, it seemed was one that was best avoided. On several occasions she had heard them whispering in hushed tones to each other, almost as if it was her that had died. It was as if she served as a painful reminder of what awaits us all, and slowly they had drifted back to the relative comfort of their own lives. Gradually their visits had dwindled to little more than the dutiful kind. Her children had their own lives to lead, families to look after, and plans of their own stretching out before them.
Family had meant everything to Bill. She felt sure he would have turned in his grave had he known how their daughters had so thoughtlessly turned their backs on her, at a time when their support was needed the most. Bill had always been a good provider, and had made a few wise investments over the years. She certainly had no financial worries, but without him to share the little luxuries they could well afford, the money didn’t seem to bring her much sense of comfort.
It was true that neither of their daughters had ever wanted for much, but lately she wondered if they had been correct to indulge the girls quite as generously as they had. The girls had grown up having the best of everything, and maybe that had been a big mistake. Over the years they had become accustomed to having it all, and perhaps this had helped to turn them into selfish and self-centred individuals they had both become. Neither visited very often, but both were quick off the mark when they needed a loan, money they never repaid, however much they protested they would. Still, it was far too late to worry about any of that now.
And Alice had to admit it. Glen was such a gentleman, and it felt good to have another man in her life. Fair enough, she wasn’t exactly a youngster anymore. Age had certainly slowed her down, and her memory wasn’t quite as sharp as it used to be. Yet apart from the occasional aches and pains that comes with older age she felt as fit as a fiddle. And despite it all she hadn’t lost her zest for living. There was still plenty of life in the old girl yet she thought smiling to herself.
She hadn’t dared mention Glen to either of the girls. They would hear about him soon enough, but for now he was destined to remain her little secret. They would never understand. She could imagine the look of horror on their faces when they did find out about him. They would go on and on about it, insisting that he was only after her money, trying to take advantage of a silly old fool. Alice sighed. She knew him far better than that, he’d never asked for a single penny, and she felt sure the thought had never even crossed his mind. But it would have proved a difficult job convincing her children of that. If the truth be known, their only real concern was about how much money would be left to line their own pockets.
Alice checked the time again. It was almost four o’clock. Glen would by here at any minute, he was always very punctual. Just enough time to set a plate of scones upon the tray and pour a pot of tea. Putting the tray down on the coffee table Alice sank into the comfort of her armchair and switched on the radio.
“Ah, good afternoon Glen, here you are at long last, I’ve been waiting hours for you. I wonder what the topic of discussion is today. I do hope you have one of your amusing stories to tell, I could do with a bit of a giggle, something to cheer me up. I haven’t seen a single soul all week, but don’t you start feeling sorry for me. I’m sure I will manage perfectly well, and I do still have my pride you know."
"I expect you would think I wasn’t quite the ticket if you knew I was sitting here talking to you like this, but somehow I think you would understand. I wish I could share these scones with you, they really are quite delicious. Sometimes I imagine you sitting down right next to me, but of course that is nothing more than an old ladies far-fetched notion. You’re just a voice on the radio, but a warm and familiar one, and one that I've grown very fond of. I’ve learned so much about you over the last few years, you've come to feel like my closest friend."
"I've decided to let you in on my little secret. I've wanted to confide in you for a long time; actually I can’t think of a single reason why I haven't mentioned it before. You see...I’ve bequeathed a very generous sum of money to you. Oh, don't worry, there's no need to thank me, although I know that you would. It's just my little way of thanking you for your friendship, for always being here when I've needed you. I expect you will be quite surprised when you hear about my gift, but trust me, not as surprised as my girls will be. It will create quite a stir I can tell you. What I’d give to see my daughter’s faces on the day the will is read. Still, let’s not worry about that now. Until the day we can no longer be together, I remain your most loyal and dedicated fan."
All in all she thought they were a good match. They shared many of the same interests, and they both had a good sense of humour. Sometimes Glen could be quite the talker. When he really got into the swing of things he hardly seemed to pause for breath, and it became almost impossible to get a word in edgeways. Still, nobody was perfect and she didn’t mind too much, having always considered herself more of a listener than a talker. In many ways Glen had become a replacement figure for her Bill, although in her heart she knew she could never love anyone else in quite the same way as her beloved husband.
It had been almost four years since Bill had passed away, but Alice had never fully recovered from his loss. She’d always imagined they would grow old together; sadly it seemed someone up there had bigger plans in store for Bill. Of course over time she had grown to accept it, but it didn’t take away the moments of loneliness, or make up for the days when she had accidentally set the dining table for two. Only then would she remember that they would never share another meal, that she would never see his familiar face across the table. And that was when the tears would start, large salty pearls which slid steadily down her cheeks.
Both of their daughters had rallied round for the funeral, although the subject of death, it seemed was one that was best avoided. On several occasions she had heard them whispering in hushed tones to each other, almost as if it was her that had died. It was as if she served as a painful reminder of what awaits us all, and slowly they had drifted back to the relative comfort of their own lives. Gradually their visits had dwindled to little more than the dutiful kind. Her children had their own lives to lead, families to look after, and plans of their own stretching out before them.
Family had meant everything to Bill. She felt sure he would have turned in his grave had he known how their daughters had so thoughtlessly turned their backs on her, at a time when their support was needed the most. Bill had always been a good provider, and had made a few wise investments over the years. She certainly had no financial worries, but without him to share the little luxuries they could well afford, the money didn’t seem to bring her much sense of comfort.
It was true that neither of their daughters had ever wanted for much, but lately she wondered if they had been correct to indulge the girls quite as generously as they had. The girls had grown up having the best of everything, and maybe that had been a big mistake. Over the years they had become accustomed to having it all, and perhaps this had helped to turn them into selfish and self-centred individuals they had both become. Neither visited very often, but both were quick off the mark when they needed a loan, money they never repaid, however much they protested they would. Still, it was far too late to worry about any of that now.
And Alice had to admit it. Glen was such a gentleman, and it felt good to have another man in her life. Fair enough, she wasn’t exactly a youngster anymore. Age had certainly slowed her down, and her memory wasn’t quite as sharp as it used to be. Yet apart from the occasional aches and pains that comes with older age she felt as fit as a fiddle. And despite it all she hadn’t lost her zest for living. There was still plenty of life in the old girl yet she thought smiling to herself.
She hadn’t dared mention Glen to either of the girls. They would hear about him soon enough, but for now he was destined to remain her little secret. They would never understand. She could imagine the look of horror on their faces when they did find out about him. They would go on and on about it, insisting that he was only after her money, trying to take advantage of a silly old fool. Alice sighed. She knew him far better than that, he’d never asked for a single penny, and she felt sure the thought had never even crossed his mind. But it would have proved a difficult job convincing her children of that. If the truth be known, their only real concern was about how much money would be left to line their own pockets.
Alice checked the time again. It was almost four o’clock. Glen would by here at any minute, he was always very punctual. Just enough time to set a plate of scones upon the tray and pour a pot of tea. Putting the tray down on the coffee table Alice sank into the comfort of her armchair and switched on the radio.
“Ah, good afternoon Glen, here you are at long last, I’ve been waiting hours for you. I wonder what the topic of discussion is today. I do hope you have one of your amusing stories to tell, I could do with a bit of a giggle, something to cheer me up. I haven’t seen a single soul all week, but don’t you start feeling sorry for me. I’m sure I will manage perfectly well, and I do still have my pride you know."
"I expect you would think I wasn’t quite the ticket if you knew I was sitting here talking to you like this, but somehow I think you would understand. I wish I could share these scones with you, they really are quite delicious. Sometimes I imagine you sitting down right next to me, but of course that is nothing more than an old ladies far-fetched notion. You’re just a voice on the radio, but a warm and familiar one, and one that I've grown very fond of. I’ve learned so much about you over the last few years, you've come to feel like my closest friend."
"I've decided to let you in on my little secret. I've wanted to confide in you for a long time; actually I can’t think of a single reason why I haven't mentioned it before. You see...I’ve bequeathed a very generous sum of money to you. Oh, don't worry, there's no need to thank me, although I know that you would. It's just my little way of thanking you for your friendship, for always being here when I've needed you. I expect you will be quite surprised when you hear about my gift, but trust me, not as surprised as my girls will be. It will create quite a stir I can tell you. What I’d give to see my daughter’s faces on the day the will is read. Still, let’s not worry about that now. Until the day we can no longer be together, I remain your most loyal and dedicated fan."
