furtive gesture, she shut the cupboard door. And as she did so, her hand trembled. Somehow she felt she had far more reason to be afraid now than she ever had before.
5
Mrs Jean Gardner from number six had begun to visit Doris and Mrs McIvor at number two nearly every day. She spoke gently to Doris, telling her not to worry. She’d help her get to the root of the problem and everything would be all right.
‘Do you think, dear, you could have done something?’ she asked with a worried expression. ‘You might have, quite unintentionally of course, done something to the poor helpless old lady to have caused her to withdraw from the world. Probably she imagines she’d doing it for her own safety, dear.’ Mrs Gardner added, ‘Do you think she’s even afraid of you?’
‘Oh no,’ Doris protested. ‘There could be no need for her to feel afraid of me. I’d never do her any harm. She knows that. I’ve always been as kind as I could to her.’
Mrs Gardner placed a soft white hand on Doris’s knee, her long scarlet nails shimmering in the light from the standard lamp.
‘Now, my dear.’ Her voice was so gentle, it was almost a whisper. ‘Look into your heart and remember I care about you and am trying to help you in any way I can. But try to search in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind. Ask yourself if you’ve ever been impatient or angry with the poor helpless old lady. Have you never been tempted to lash out at her?’
Doris felt herself begin to tremble with distress. Haltingly she admitted, ‘I suppose there have been times when I’ve been so frightened and upset by some of the things Mother does – like running out of the house. It’s just … It’s just that I’m afraid she’ll come to some harm.’
‘But my dear, why does the poor helpless old lady run away from you?’
‘She’s … she’s ill. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. But she keeps doing things and I can’t help getting impatient and upset and … And …’
‘Harm her?’
‘No, no, I’d never harm my mother. She was so good to me when I was growing up. I’ll never forget that.’
‘My dear.’ Mrs Gardner’s voice became quietly accusing. ‘I saw you yesterday grab her roughly by the arm and drag her back into the house. You jerked her off her feet. I heard her cry out in pain. That’s why I’ve been so worried and want to help you.’
Tears gushed up to Doris’s eyes. ‘But I’d got such a fright. I’d gone to the bathroom and when I came back out, she’d disappeared from the sitting room, where I thought she’d dozed off to sleep in the arm chair. I was afraid she might fall into the river. I found her quite near the river. She could have fallen in.’
‘There’s a little footbridge, dear. She was trying to reach the little footbridge and escape from you. I hear her saying that, or words to that effect.’
Doris was weeping helplessly now.
‘I didn’t mean to hurt her.’
Mrs Gardner sighed. ‘So you did harm her?’
‘No, I mean … I grabbed her arm but I didn’t mean to hurt her.’
Mrs Gardner patted Doris’s hand. ‘Try to calm yourself, dear, and forgive yourself. I’ll come back tomorrow to help you. We’ll work this out between us, don’t worry. I know you’re a good daughter. We just must find a way to calm you down.’
Doris, still weeping, saw her neighbour to the outside door and watched the elegant, beautifully dressed figure with glossy dark hair and little pearl earrings and designer suit walk along Waterside Way. Only when she had disappeared into the garden, then the house at number six did Doris retreat back into her own house.
She ached to speak to Mrs Gardner again to try and convince her that she had never done her mother any harm. What she secretly agonised about, of course, was that there had been times recently when she felt like throttling her mother. She prayed Mrs Gardner would save her from herself and save her mother. Guilt about her violent feelings
5
Mrs Jean Gardner from number six had begun to visit Doris and Mrs McIvor at number two nearly every day. She spoke gently to Doris, telling her not to worry. She’d help her get to the root of the problem and everything would be all right.
‘Do you think, dear, you could have done something?’ she asked with a worried expression. ‘You might have, quite unintentionally of course, done something to the poor helpless old lady to have caused her to withdraw from the world. Probably she imagines she’d doing it for her own safety, dear.’ Mrs Gardner added, ‘Do you think she’s even afraid of you?’
‘Oh no,’ Doris protested. ‘There could be no need for her to feel afraid of me. I’d never do her any harm. She knows that. I’ve always been as kind as I could to her.’
Mrs Gardner placed a soft white hand on Doris’s knee, her long scarlet nails shimmering in the light from the standard lamp.
‘Now, my dear.’ Her voice was so gentle, it was almost a whisper. ‘Look into your heart and remember I care about you and am trying to help you in any way I can. But try to search in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind. Ask yourself if you’ve ever been impatient or angry with the poor helpless old lady. Have you never been tempted to lash out at her?’
Doris felt herself begin to tremble with distress. Haltingly she admitted, ‘I suppose there have been times when I’ve been so frightened and upset by some of the things Mother does – like running out of the house. It’s just … It’s just that I’m afraid she’ll come to some harm.’
‘But my dear, why does the poor helpless old lady run away from you?’
‘She’s … she’s ill. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. But she keeps doing things and I can’t help getting impatient and upset and … And …’
‘Harm her?’
‘No, no, I’d never harm my mother. She was so good to me when I was growing up. I’ll never forget that.’
‘My dear.’ Mrs Gardner’s voice became quietly accusing. ‘I saw you yesterday grab her roughly by the arm and drag her back into the house. You jerked her off her feet. I heard her cry out in pain. That’s why I’ve been so worried and want to help you.’
Tears gushed up to Doris’s eyes. ‘But I’d got such a fright. I’d gone to the bathroom and when I came back out, she’d disappeared from the sitting room, where I thought she’d dozed off to sleep in the arm chair. I was afraid she might fall into the river. I found her quite near the river. She could have fallen in.’
‘There’s a little footbridge, dear. She was trying to reach the little footbridge and escape from you. I hear her saying that, or words to that effect.’
Doris was weeping helplessly now.
‘I didn’t mean to hurt her.’
Mrs Gardner sighed. ‘So you did harm her?’
‘No, I mean … I grabbed her arm but I didn’t mean to hurt her.’
Mrs Gardner patted Doris’s hand. ‘Try to calm yourself, dear, and forgive yourself. I’ll come back tomorrow to help you. We’ll work this out between us, don’t worry. I know you’re a good daughter. We just must find a way to calm you down.’
Doris, still weeping, saw her neighbour to the outside door and watched the elegant, beautifully dressed figure with glossy dark hair and little pearl earrings and designer suit walk along Waterside Way. Only when she had disappeared into the garden, then the house at number six did Doris retreat back into her own house.
She ached to speak to Mrs Gardner again to try and convince her that she had never done her mother any harm. What she secretly agonised about, of course, was that there had been times recently when she felt like throttling her mother. She prayed Mrs Gardner would save her from herself and save her mother. Guilt about her violent feelings
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