WASTING TIME WITH PEOPLE
by
Maeve Binchy
Once she had overheard them talking about her. They
called her that harmless poor bun-faced woman next
door who had nothing to do with her time. Beth knew
that listeners never hear any good about themselves.
As she examined her face in the mirror, she decided
it wasn't remotely like a bun and decided to forget
the remark. Beth was a happy person. She preferred
liking people to disliking them. And anyway, despite
what they said she actually had plenty to do.
Beth got a nice hot breakfast for three elderly neighbours,
she had keys to all their houses. Then she went to
help in the Day Centre for two hours after which she
did Meals on Wheels. In the afternoon she gave reading
classes to slow learners, and English lessons to four
Polish girls at tea time. Then she and her friend Maggie
addressed envelopes for a charity, much easier these
days because they had sticky labels, and every evening
there was one thing or the other. At weekends she worked
in a Charity shop and she helped some of the older
people in their gardens. The day wasn't long enough,
it was full of people but she never felt that one moment
of it was wasted.
The drunk who careered down the road and ploughed
into Numbers 28 and 29 hit Beth and Kitty very hard.
The ambulance was called and they ended up in the same
ward. Kitty had a broken leg and Beth had a broken
arm.
From her bed, Kitty watched as a stream of visitors
came in to visit Beth, the woman with a face like a
currant bun. Some were taking home her nighties to
wash, others were bringing magazines, flowers from
their gardens and mainly assurances that all the many
aspects of her life were going along as she would have
wished. Someone else was making the breakfasts and
wondered should the rashers be well cooked or juicy.
A man was teaching the Polish girls English, but said
he wasn't sure if they were satisfied because he spent
too long on the off-side rule in soccer while they
wanted more about clothes.
Kitty got a bouquet from the office and John came
in every night. There was talk about moving her to
a private room but she said she would prefer to stay
where she was.
The drunk had only broken her leg, but the accident
had also opened her eyes.
One night when John was visiting she asked him to
water Beth's garden for her.
'I thought we said we didn't want to waste time with
people,' he hissed at her.
Kitty closed her eyes. Her face seemed to say that her
husband had a lot to learn...
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© Maeve Binchy.
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