DHSS WELCOME 

By Janet Baldey

 Julie stood watching the patches of mist clinging to the tops of the lamp posts. She coughed as dank air seeped into her lungs, shivered and inched closer to a nearby shop, taking advantage of every blast of warm air.  She peered into the murk. There was still no sign of the bus, just a long line of shrouded cars, fog swirling around their headlights as they crawled along.      

Curling her toes inside her shoes, she stared at the lighted window, idly scanning the scattering of postcards.   ‘Computer problems?  ‘Handyman – no job too small….’ Then, ‘Wanted.  Companion for elderly widow…..’  She pressed her nose against the glass struggling to read the faint, spidery writing.  ‘No experience necessary…live in…one child accepted.   DHSS welcome.   She gasped and a cloud of condensation obliterated the message. As a desperate glance confirmed the dim bulk of the bus lumbering towards her stop, she plunged into the shop and rushed towards the small, nut brown shopkeeper leaving flying witches, skeletons and Dracula masks dancing in her wake. 

‘That advert in your window.   Can you get it down for me please?’ 

Even close up, she could barely decipher the handwriting. At last, her vision cleared, ‘Mrs Carmichael, 42 Wellington Gardens.  Miles away and there was no telephone number.       

All the way home, she sat squirming as the bus progressed with maddening slowness.   It was too good to be true.  The card was out-of-date.   She’d get there, and the job would have gone.  But….it was worth a try.   She had to get out of the hostel, if only for Lily’s sake.  Damp, vermin-infested, its flaky ceiling showering down a scurf of plaster whenever the people upstairs threw one of their parties, it was no place to bring up a child.  Especially one like Lily.  Her expression softened, as she glanced down at her daughter’s delicate face.  Looking at her watch, she willed the bus forward.

She took the stairs two at a time and when she reached Shel’s room her heart was a small animal racing for its life.        

‘Thanks for looking after her.   Has she been good?’

         ‘As an angel, love.  Blimey, you look puffed.  Come and park yerself.’

         ‘No time, but thanks.’   

Already, Julie was reaching inside her bag for a jar of baby-food.   She’d needed go back out but Lily must be fed first.  Crouching down beside her daughter, Julie offered up a heaped spoonful of beef stew.

‘Hey, you tryin’ to choke that kid?’  

Julie looked up.  Shel was doing her Buddha impersonation; slab-like arms folded over her chest, her eyes narrowed into slits. 

‘In a hurry.’ Julie told her about the postcard. ‘Any chance?’  She nodded towards Lily, a fragile hope kindling. 

‘Sorry, love. Taking the brats out trick and treating, must get it done before it comes down really bad.’   

She pointed towards the window, jaundiced with fog. 

‘Of course, sorry.’ 

Briefly, Julie had forgotten. All day long the building had echoed with slightly hysterical giggling and hollow groans as the resident’s children jumped out at one another, their pale faces streaked with dirt, their hair spiky with their mothers’ gel. 

* * * 

         It was as if she was in another world. As Julie pushed her daughter along broad pavements fringed by soaring patchwork trunks, she looked at the Regency houses their waxy facades glimmering in the thickening dusk. Lily now weighed as much as a baby elephant and she was completely lost. 

Just when she was about to give up, a wedding cake of a house loomed out of the mist, its number 42 cutting through the dark like a beacon. They had arrived, but she could hardly believe it. She’d thought the other houses were grand but this one overwhelmed its neighbours. Her legs shook as she walked up the drive. 

The door was opened by a tiny lady who, when she heard why she had come, seemed delighted by her arrival. 

‘Please in my dear.’ Mrs Carmichael fluttered around them like a small, brown moth.

Inside it was sombre. Velvet drapes closely covered the windows and the dim light of chandeliers struggled through glass stained a pallid yellow.  Julie wrinkled her nose. There was the faintest aroma of must and mildew although she could see no sign of rot and the furnishings, although old-fashioned, were spotless.      

‘I must admit to getting a little desperate. It seems that no-one is willing to trek all the way over here to look after an old nuisance like me.’  

 Mrs Carmichael trilled a laugh and put up a hand to cover her mouth. It was then that Julie noticed her nails.  Long and curved, they seemed out of place. Slightly startled, she confirmed her first impression; a frail, elderly lady with faded blue eyes hiding amongst a maze of wrinkles. Julie was reassured. It was comforting to realise that vanity didn’t disappear as you got older.

‘And, is this your little treasure?’     

Carefully, Mrs Carmichael stooped and peered inside the buggy.    

‘Delightful, and ….’   She murmured something so softly that Julie didn’t catch the words.  Creaking upright, her voice strengthened. 

‘Now, it doesn’t matter one jot that you have no experience. I’m very easy to manage and your duties will be minimal. Would you like to see your quarters?’ 

Julie stood, her eyes widening as they drank in blond wood, white leather and dove grey carpet. Everything was perfect.  It was almost as if Mrs Carmichael had read her mind.   The opulence of the rest of the house was not to her taste but as she stood in the middle of the suite of rooms, being offered up like a delicious pastry, she felt like hugging herself.   

 ‘Now, I’ll leave you in peace to settle in.  I usually have a cup of cocoa and a sweet biscuit at eight, so I shall see you then.’ 

‘Oh!’  Now it was Julie’s turn to cover her mouth. ‘I wasn’t thinking of starting straight away. I haven’t got my things and there’s stuff I have to sort out.’ 

There was a moment’s silence. When Mrs Carmichael spoke again, her voice was soft but as strong as a strand of silk. 

‘I’m sorry.  I couldn’t have made myself clear.  An immediate start is one of the conditions of the post.  It shows commitment, you see.’ 

‘But…. our clothes?   And, Lily won’t settle without her teddy.’ 

A crystal glass shattered onto a marble floor as Mrs Carmichael laughed. 

‘Don’t look so stricken my dear.  I have the perfect solution.  Leave baby with me and collect your things.  That way, it will take you no time at all. Look at her, the dear child is fast asleep and I’m sure she won’t wake before you get back.’ 

Julie glanced at her daughter.  Sure enough, she was sprawled in the buggy, only the slightest movement of her chest showing that she breathed.  Chewing at her lip, she looked around:  this was her passport out of the hostel.  She’d do her best, work hard, get a reference then when Lily was older……a rosy future beckoned. 

She grabbed her coat, whirled and ran out of the door. 

She’d reached the gate when she remembered. Her purse, she’d left it tucked into the side pocket of the buggy.  She turned and ran back up the drive.   It was only as she drew nearer, she heard it.  A thin, high wail.  Lily!  Lily was screaming.  She should never have left her.  She wasn’t used to strangers.  She reached the door, rattled the knocker and pounded at the wood with her fists. 

‘Let me in’, she yelled, but no one replied and the heavy door was implacable. Through her rising panic Julie noticed a low window to the left of the door and scrabbled through bushes to reach it. Slipping off her coat and using it like a shroud, she picked up a heavy flint and smashed at the glass until it shivered into a confusion of tiny cracks.  One more blow, then ignoring the wicked slivers of wood set in their wooden gums, Julie climbed in and ran towards her daughter’s cries.   

On a purple damask settee, inside the ugly drawing room, Mrs Carmichael sat holding Lily who was writhing in her arms and flailing at the air with her tiny fists.   

‘It’s all right darling, Mummy’s here.’ 

 Mrs Carmichael looked up and Julie froze. Gone was the saccharine smile and gentle expression.  Her face was a mask of greed and her eyes burned with a fire that scorched towards Julie standing transfixed in the doorway.  She just had time to notice the old woman seemed to have shed years, before a feeling of lassitude swaddled her limbs and all she wanted to do was drown in sleep.   Then, Lily screamed again and the sound drilled into her brain. Julie swayed across the carpet pushing against air that grew denser with every step she took. As she drew nearer, something terrible happened.  Mrs Carmichael curled her upper lip, hissed and Julie saw her teeth. For an instant, she froze then closing her eyes against the horror she flung herself forward and caught hold of Lily’s dress.  There was the sound of ripping cotton but Julie tightened her grip and a desperate tussle began.  Backwards and forwards they pulled as if sawing wood until Julie felt Lily grow limp. Her horror deepening, she made one last desperate effort, wrenched her daughter free and fled. 

 She sprinted down the road, feeling hard concrete slapping through her thin shoes.  Her head was empty save for one thought, she must get back to the hostel.  It might be dingy, but it was safe.  Oddly, her memory faded the further she got from the house until she remembered nothing.  Puzzled, her flight slowed to a stroll as she made her way back to the hostel. 

It wasn’t until later that the nightmare returned. When Lily opened her mouth to take her night time bottle, Julie caught sight of her teeth.  It was then that Julie screamed until the sound scratched the sky. 

 

Copyright Janet Baldey