Southend U3A

Two ladies meeting at a bus stop (A Monologue) - Vivian Brown

December 2010

Hallo Trudy. Good to see you. You weren't about to pass me were you?

No, of course you wouldn't. Must admit I try to play invisible at times . . . especially at Christmas time . . . oh the rush . . . I'm dashing from morn to night and never enough hours.

Anyway, how are you Trudy? Your wrist, is it better? You were in a sling.

Oh it was your arm.

Well, I knew it was something like that. But no sling now so it must be better.

Oh yes, I'm fine. Well no - I'm not actually. I lost my voice. And just as Christmas is almost upon us. It was just too dreadful. Can you imagine me without a voice?

You're trying to?

Ah . . . yes - it was a whole week; couldn't talk or sing or anything.

Restful?

No. Because I was so frustrated - began putting the decorations up in the flat and I fell over the stepladder and cut my leg and the man came up from the flat below when he heard the crash and tried to stop the bleeding from my leg - it was all over the carpet. So I gave him a clean cloth and he tried putting a compress on.

Yes, kind wasn't it.

But then I offered him a drink and he wouldn't stop talking - and I couldn't, you see . . . talk I mean . . . and he must have mistaken my silence for shyness.

Me shy?

Well - you know I'm not shy dear. But others wouldn't. I'm such a good listener you see and there I was listening away and he had another drink - and another. Well it is Christmas! Then he was getting up and bashed his head on the open cupboard door.

Well, it knocked him out, dear. He slumped in the chair, head lolling, eyes not focusing - frightening. I kept talking to him to try and bring him round.

My voice?

Oh yes - must have been the shock. It suddenly returned. But perhaps I wasn’t saying the right things . . . he didn't come round. So on went the frozen peas and the water ran down his jacket. Very embarrassing.

Nothing to laugh about, Trudy. You might be more understanding. I was in a very difficult situation.

How long have I known him?

Never met him before. He'd moved into his flat the day before but as I'd lost my voice I didn't call on him. Well trying to tell a complete stranger by sign language that I lived above - well he might have got the wrong idea. Anyway, he seemed to be recovering and after a bit more talk and a black coffee, said he must be going.

But after he’d gone I was so shaken about my lost voice and falling off the stepladder with Christmas decorations all around - and cutting my leg and then trying to revive this chap when he blacked out - and finding my voice again - it was all too traumatic and now I'm feeling quite weak and I've got all this Christmas shopping to do.

But we simply must meet soon, Trudy. I'm longing to hear all your news . . .

You're going into hospital?

Oh dear . . .how dreadful and you didn't even mention . . .

You must dash?

So must I. Do ring me - about the hospital and . . . and . . . oh dear she's got on that bus.

Funny girl . . . Trudy . . . she never says much.