Writing for Fun
March 2020
My Secret Obsession - Pete Norman
‘She’s off again.’
Ada did not even bother looking up from her Sudoku puzzle. ‘And where’s she off to this time?’
Flavy watched Joanna as she walked out of the front door of Sunnyside Nursing Home. ‘She says it’s little Harry Boy’s birthday.’
‘She’s up to summat – he only had his birthday a couple a months ago. If he keeps on at this rate he’ll be older’n us before he goes to High School.’
Flavy nodded thoughtfully. ‘What day is it today?’
‘Thursday.’
Flavy huffed. ‘What a coincidence! It’s been every Thursday for ages. We have to find out where she’s going.’
‘And how do you propose to do that, eh? Run after the bus? Fly like Superman? Steal a car?’
Flavy grinned. ‘Tempting but at our age it’s probably safer to use Tommy and his Fiesta.’
‘That heap of old rubbish? It’ll fall apart before we even get out on the main road.’
‘I’m afraid it looks like it’s that or nothing.’
Flavy looked at the clock above the Common Room door. ‘11 o’clock on the nose. If we can get him in the car park next Thursday before 11 then we can run out and chase her bus wherever she’s going.’
Ada looked a little unsure. ‘I reckon my running and chasing days is over but if Tommy can work his magic then I daresay we should be able to catch her at it.’
Flavy put a ring around next Thursday on her calendar – because she knew she would only forget it if she didn’t – and when Joanna came back in the late afternoon Flavy was waiting in the lounge for her.
‘How did it go for little Tommy then?’
‘Oh, very good. He got lots of lovely presents.’
Flavy smiled the kind of smile that a Great White usually displays to a hapless swimmer. ‘An’ ‘xactly how old is the little mite now?’
Joanna looked flustered for a few moments and then answered, ‘He’s seven.’
‘Well, that’s a surprise, I’m sure – I thought as like he was a bit older than that . . .’
* * *
The week crawled slowly by as Flavy crossed off the days one by one. She was getting quite excited at the prospect of solving the riddle. It was a bit like the old days, except that this time Joanna was the victim.
On Thursday morning Tommy arrived early and joined the girls in the Common Room. At 11 o’clock on the nose Joanna slipped quietly out of the door, without saying goodbye and the three burst into action. Well, it wasn’t so much ‘bursting’ and the action was quite subdued but they made their way out to the Fiesta and waited until they saw the number 21 stop a little further down.
Tommy followed the bus – considerably slower than he normally drove as Flavy had made it quite clear that his favourite Gran would no longer be his favourite Gran if he drove like Stirling Moss. Tommy had never heard of Stirling Moss but he had learned the hard way that it was unwise to cross ‘apparently’ harmless little old ladies.
He kept his distance as the bus was stopping at almost every stop until it finally reached the Town Centre where it disgorged a mass of oldies outside the Market Place. A few minutes later Joanna struggled off the bus with her wheelchair and started to make her way up the High Street.
Flavy gave Tommy instructions to wait for them and they slipped out of the car and followed Joanna at a discreet distance. Ada was enjoying the subterfuge and slipped covertly along with her back pressed against the shopfronts in true sleuth style, ducking into doorways and peering out carefully before setting off again . . . to catch up with Flavy who simply strode along the pavement, keeping pace with the wheelchair, completely oblivious to the danger.
Eventually Ada gave up – it was hurting her back – so she trotted after Flavy until Joanna suddenly stopped outside Hampton’s The Jeweller. The girls slipped into a doorway and peeped out. To their surprise Joanna had prised herself out of her wheelchair and had pressed her nose to the shop window.
* * *
Joanna was a little unsteady on her feet but the window gave her enough support to stand for a few moments to worship it. It was, without doubt, the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Nothing else in her life had ever come close to it. It was delicate. It was pure class and she wanted it with a passion.
Suddenly the curtain in the shop drew back and a face appeared. The face was of a woman of an uncertain age but clearly a lot older than her posh hairdo and clothes suggested. Her make up was trowelled on to cover a multitude of sins. She glared at Joanna and gave her the ‘look’. The look said it all: 'Go away trash; even the gaze from your eyes is contaminating this exquisite treasure; you have clearly just crawled out from under a rock.’ A dismissive wave of her hand suggested that Joanna might consider absenting herself from the shop window without undue delay.
Joanna raised her hand and waved her fingers in a friendly gesture to the face but then, slowly and methodically, she dropped her thumb and three of her fingers into her palm and, over the top of the single remaining finger – which was raised in a quite unfriendly gesture – she gave the lady a perfect smile.
Two more faces appeared in the window but this time the faces were outside the shop – reflections. She did not need to turn around, she merely dropped back into her wheelchair again. ‘Hello Flavy. Hello Ada. Watch’a doin’ here, girls?’
‘We thought as how we might come along and see what your secret obsession was, you little minx.’
Joanna smiled at Ada. She pointed to a large gold pocket watch in the centre of the window display, nestling expensively in a deep pile purple velvet sheet and accentuated by a discreet notice which declared it to be an exact copy of the watch made for Marie Antoinette by Abraham Breguet.
‘Pretty isn’t it?’
‘It ain’t bad, I suppose.’ Ada leaned in closer for a better look. ‘But it is only a copy. An’ it ain’t got no cover on it; you can see all the bits movin’ about inside it. He hasn’t finished it off properly.’
Flavy put on her superior I’m the eldest and I’m the cleverest in the group expression and added, ‘It were made like that special, you twerp, you’s supposed to be able to see it working, that’s why it’s so posh.’
Joanna pressed her nose back against the window. ‘I want it.’
Flavy said, ‘But it’s priceless . . .’
Joanna looked up at her deadpan face. ‘How do you know that?’
Flavy laughed. ‘Because there ain’t no price ticket on it! My Jim used to say that if you have to ask the price then you can’t afford it.’
‘But I want it.’
Flavy thought for a moment and then looked back at the tatty old Fiesta parked up at the end of the High Street. ‘I reckons as how Tommy might be able to get that for you if his favourite gran were to ask him real nicely, like.’
Joanna shook her head. ‘But how could Tommy afford to buy something like that? He never has two pennies to rub together.’
‘Well . . . he’s a hard worker and he’s . . . real good at his job . . . and you could say that he is a sort of collector of stuff.’ Flavy smiled. ‘I’ll put in a good word for you.’
As they walked back to the car they passed the Rose Cafe. At a table near the large picture window was seated an elderly gentleman, quite military in his dress and demeanour. He looked up hopefully as Joanna walked past and raised his hand to wave but Joanna frantically but discreetly shook her head. She wasn’t about to reveal her other secret obsession to the girls, not yet awhile.