put the kettle on to boil, then disappeared into the pantry.
While the kettle was boiling, she poured Pat the dregs left from the pot made earlier which she put before her, saying, ‘The kettle won’t be a moment. In the meantime, this’ll keep yer going.’
Pat took enough time off from issuing her instructions on what route she had decided the funeral procession should take to pick up the cup of stewed tea and knock it back. After swallowing it down, she pulled a face. ‘Oh, that was a bit bitter! I’ll have a spoon more sugar in me next one. Now, where was I?’
Fifteen minutes later Aidy was having extreme difficulty controlling her need to tell Arch’s mother to at least afford her grandmother and herself the courtesy of having some opinions on Jessie’s funeral, when the woman suddenly stopped mid-flow and clutched her huge stomach, giving out a loud groan.
Looking at her worriedly, Aidy asked, ‘What’s wrong, Mrs Nelson?’
Her rotund face screwed up in agony, Pat bellowed, ‘It’s me guts. It’s feels like they’re dropping out. It must be that bleddy cod we had for dinner last night. I thought it looked a bit iffy when I bought it. I’ll give that ’monger what for, the next time I see him.’ Heaving her bulk off the chair, she announced, ‘I’ve got to go. Don’t worry, I’ll be back first thing to continue where we left off.’
With that she snatched up her coat and handbag, and almost wrenched the back door off its hinges in her haste to get home.
‘That’ll just be us for tea then,’ said Bertha matter-of-factly, getting up and bustling over to pick up the kettle that was now whistling merrily on the stove.
Her face showing her fury, Aidy hissed, ‘I can’t believe that woman was expecting me to pay Arch’s brothers to pall-bear for Mam. The bloody gall of her!’ Then she paused and sighed. ‘Oh, Gran, as much as she irritates the life out of me, I hope her stomach ache isn’t serious. It’s funny, though, we had cod last night from the same ’monger she uses and Arch never complained of anything when he was here earlier. And I’m all right …’
‘Well, it might not have been caused by summat she ate so much as summat she drank,’ said Bertha dryly as she busied herself with her task.
Her tone of voice had Aidy looking at her suspiciously. Instinctively she knew her grandmother was somehow involved in Pat’s sudden stomach problem. ‘Gran, just what did you give Mrs Nelson?’
Bertha turned to face Aidy, a satisfied expression on her face. ‘Well, I thought she looked a bit grey around the gills, and to me that’s a sure sign of constipation. Out of pure kindness, I put a dose of senna in her tea.’
Aidy gawped. ‘So that’s why it tasted bitter to her? Gran, how big a dose did you give her?’
‘Enough to clear the blockage of an elephant! Well, yer can’t deny she’s a big woman, so a normal dose wouldn’t be of any benefit to the likes of her, now would it?’ There was a twinkle of mischief in Bertha’s eyes when she added, ‘And with a bit of luck, lovey, we won’t see her ugly mug again until after the funeral.’
Aidy couldn’t help but laugh, despite the circumstances. Her grandmother deserved a medal for getting the interfering Pat out of the way, allowing them the freedom to arrange her mother’s funeral the way they wanted. ‘Mam would have split her sides over this one, Gran,’ she spluttered.
Putting a pot of fresh tea on the table, Bertha nodded. ‘She certainly would have. That woman was the bane of Jessie’s life, thinking she had every right to boss us about ’cos you was married to her son. Jessie only tolerated her out of respect for you.’
Bertha began to giggle then, a moment’s relief from the heartache of her daughter’s sudden death.
A while later they made their way through to the parlour to begin their vigil, both to some extent dreading the ordeal, but equally determined to use this special time to talk about the good times they had shared with Jessie, their own good fortune in having the likes of her for a mother and a daughter.
CHAPTER FOUR
It didn’t seem right to Aidy that the day of her mother’s funeral should be so gloriously sunny. A perfect summer’s day, in fact. It should have been icy cold and bleak, the way she was feeling. She knew