Greenwood. And, as we both know, your Arch wanted you both to get married years before you did. It was only through yer mam overhearing you arguing with him that you wouldn’t get married until all the kids were working that Jessie herself made you see reason and set a date. Of course, you being you argued the toss with her, but finally Jessie won out. Thankfully she did else you would have denied her seeing at least one of her children married and settled.’ Bertha’s eyes glazed over. ‘I never saw her look so happy as she did that day. So proud. She kept saying to me, “Look at my girl, Mam, doesn’t she look beautiful? Like a princess.” And you did. Such a handsome couple you and Arch make. It’s just sad for the others that they won’t have their mam there on their own big days.’
They both jumped at a thump on the back door, then it immediately burst open and a booming voice announced, ‘I came as soon as I found out, to see what I could do.’
Both Aidy and Bertha looked at each other in a way that voiced ‘oh, no’, then both stared at the newcomer who had burst into their back room. As far as they knew no one could possibly have learned yet of Jessie’s death. Arch was the only one who had, but he had promised Aidy he wouldn’t say anything until tomorrow – especially to the person who had just arrived.
Aidy fixed her eyes on the huge woman before her and asked, ‘How did you find out Mam had died, Mrs Nelson?’
Pat Nelson looked visibly shaken to hear this. ‘Jessie’s dead!’ she proclaimed. In shock, she made her way over to join them at the table and sank down, the old chair she chose groaning in protest at the tremendous weight that had been placed upon it. ‘I didn’t know that! Mave Pollard called in to tell me she saw you hurrying in here with the new doctor so I assumed one of you was sick enough to have him called in. So Jessie’s dead, eh? How’d it happen?’
Muttering under her breath, Bertha grumbled, ‘Bloody busybodies around here. Yer can’t go to the lavvy without someone knowing.’
Although Pat appeared not to have heard what Bertha had muttered, Aidy did and flashed her a warning look before she informed her mother-in-law, ‘Doc said her heart just stopped.’
Pat said bluntly, ‘Well, I suppose that’s as good a way to go as any. Right, after you’ve finished yer tea, you get round to Ivy Doubleday, Aidy, and tell her there’s a laying out to do. Don’t forget to tell her I sent yer. I suggest you use Snow’s for the funeral. They did my own mother proud when she went last year. Ask for Bill Chambers and tell him I sent yer. Use Worth’s for yer meat … tell him I sent yer too.’
A thought suddenly struck her and she asked worriedly, ‘Jessie did have a penny policy to pay for her funeral, I take it? Oh, yes, she did. I remember being here one night when the agent came to collect her dues. Now, we won’t have trouble getting pall-bearers. There’s my three lads, Gert Hoskins’ two boys and Jimmy Smith. Of course, they’ll expect you to bung them a couple of bob each … except for Arch, of course, him being yer husband. My Arch will be chief pall-bearer. As for the food, we’ll have ham on the bone, and tongue, sandwiches and sausage rolls. Barrel of beer for the men, sherry for the women.’
Despite the grief that had rendered her incapable of mustering the inner strength needed for a battle of wills with Arch’s bossy mother, Aidy wasn’t about to have her own mother’s funeral railroaded. Taking a deep breath, she spoke up. ‘Now look, Mrs Nelson …’
Bertha immediately cut in. ‘I’m surprised at you, Aidy. You know it’s extremely rude to butt in when someone else is speaking.’ She then politely asked Pat, ‘I expect you could do with a cuppa, Mrs Nelson?’
Aidy looked askance at her grandmother. Why was she encouraging this overbearing woman to stay, instead of doing the opposite?
Pat responded, ‘I was beginning to think yer weren’t going to offer me one. Better make it a pot, Mrs Rider. Arranging a funeral is thirsty work.’
Appearing not to notice that her granddaughter was staring daggers at her, Bertha got up and went across to the stove to