We all make choices

By Janet Baldey

As Edna left the hospital, the doctor’s words echoed inside her head.

         “Miss Marford, I am going to be blunt. You already have limited mobility and the circulation in your legs is deteriorating. If your condition gets any worse then we may be forced to amputate. In order to avoid this, you really must stop smoking. It’s your choice….”

         He’d looked at her as she sat facing him and her posture must have told him all he needed to know. With a sigh of frustration, he’d let the pen he was holding fall onto his blotter.

         Edna scowled as she clambered into her mobility scooter and her mouth worked furiously.

         “Young whippersnapper,” she muttered under her breath. “Straight out of medical school and thinks he knows it all.  Just three things make my life worth living, my scooter, my dog and my fags. If I give any one of ‘em up, I might as well be dead.  Anyway, look at Dad, smoked sixty a day until he was in his eighties and always fit as a fiddle!”

         With a cussed disregard for other road users, she swung herself out of the hospital grounds straight into the middle of the road, deliberately holding up the traffic in both directions.  No-one could get past her as she weaved her way along the narrow road, veering from side to side to avoid the speed bumps and potholes. With grim satisfaction, she watched the long line of cars following her slow progress.

         “Do ‘em good to wait,” she thought. “They’ve good healthy legs and posh cars to drive. I’m a poor old woman and I deserve some consideration.”

         With malicious glee, she noted the horror-stricken look on a driver’s face as she swerved to within an inch of his car. “

         “So, what’re you going to do then, sue?” She cackled and the ash on her cigarette shivered precariously.

         Anna Bryant, a young woman driving the car just behind her, felt some sympathy for the old lady slumped defiantly over the controls of her scooter – feeling it must be awful not to be able to walk. But her compassion was mixed with irritation. She couldn’t understand why the woman didn’t use the perfectly good pavement instead of forcing motorists to crawl along behind her at about five miles an hour. She glanced anxiously at her watch. It was almost three-fifteen, Sam and Moira would be finishing school soon.

         As she crawled along behind her, her irritation soon gave way to concern.  She’d noticed that the back wheels on the scooter were wobbling alarmingly as Edna negotiated the bumpy road, and their motion grew wilder as the old woman doggedly continued on her erratic course. 

         Suddenly, the accident that Anna had feared happened.  The scooter hit a pothole and lurched violently to one side.  There was a squeal of metal, one wheel flew off and the chair collapsed in the middle of the road.

         There was a moment’s silence, then the sound of car doors opening and a hubbub of voices as drivers rushed to where Edna sat, a dazed look on her face.  She’d been thrown forward and had grazed her head. A thin stream of blood was trickling down her face and her eyes were vacant as she stared at the concerned faces looking down at her.

         “I’ll call an ambulance,” a voice said.  At this, Edna came back to life. “Oh, no you don’t! No hospital.” Her voice was adamant. The crowd stood around her, looking perplexed.  “I want to go home.” Edna snapped.

         Anna looked at her and thought, “poor old thing.” Crouched in the middle of the road, she looked like a defiant toad. Her glasses had been knocked awry but her cigarette was still stuck to her lips. Anna opened her mouth and the words were out before she had chance to think.  “I’ll take you home.” She looked around, “can someone help her into my car, while I arrange for my children to be picked up.”

         As they drove along the road, at first Anna tried to make small talk but Edna sat mutely in the car, staring straight ahead. Whilst being manoeuvred into place, she had banged her leg. It was now throbbing hotly and she gritted her teeth against the pain. The silence in the car grew uncomfortable.

         Edna couldn’t help darting sideways glances at her young Samaritan. Resentfully, she noted the healthy bloom on her skin and the mass of shiny chestnut hair that framed her face. If she had been pretty when she was young, maybe things might have been different. As it was, men had never given her a second glance; she had always been homely, short and dumpy with lank hair. That was why she now kept it cropped short, close to her head. “Hedgehog head,” that was what she’d heard some rude boys call her.

         At last, they reached Edna’s house. ‘Here,” she said abruptly thrusting out a set of keys.  “I’ve got a manual wheelchair in me hall. I can get meself into that if you can go and get it for me.”

         Anna quickly got out of the car and went up the path, eager to be rid of her burden. She inserted the key into the lock. As she did, she heard a snuffling noise coming from beneath the door.  As soon as it was open, she was almost bowled over by an excited whirl of legs and fur.

         “Oh, a dog!” she exclaimed. Anna loved dogs, this one had a funny, lopsided face with one side brown and the other white. It jumped around her, obviously delighted to have company.  Anna, stroked the dog’s thick, wiry coat. “Hello, boy,” she crooned, as the dog wagged his tail. “What a shame”, she thought. “The poor thing deserves better to be cooped up in a tiny place like this.” Immediately, she felt ashamed of her reaction.

         “I didn’t realise you had a dog,” she said to the old lady as she held the car door open.  Edna’s eyes flickered and for the first time Anna saw some animation in her face.

         “Yeah, that’s Bruce,” she said gruffly.

         “The kids and I love dogs – we miss ours terribly. We had to give him away when we moved because the place we’re living in now doesn’t allow pets.

         Edna looked at her in surprise, “what did your husband say about that?” she asked.

         Edna noticed that Anna’s eyes misted over and for the first time it crossed her mind that perhaps the girl’s life had not all been wine and roses as she had assumed.

         “My husband died.  He’d been ill for a long time and afterwards we couldn’t afford to keep the house on.  The Council stepped in but they wouldn’t allow us to keep the dog.  It was hard on the kids, first losing their dad and then the dog.”

         Edna was silent for a minute, then she gave a snort.  “Well, if they miss having a dog so much, they can always come and walk Bruce – he needs the exercise.  P’raps I was selfish to have him, but he is company for me.”

         Anna looked at the dog as it sat laughing in the sunshine, shade from the trees, dappling its fur.  She beamed; “that would be wonderful – they would love it.  I’ll bring them round after school tomorrow, if that’s alright with you?”

         Edna watched as she drove away.  She would never admit it to anyone else, but it would be nice to have someone to talk to.  She smiled grimly to herself. Perhaps she would even have a go at giving up the cigarettes.  After all, she wouldn’t want those kiddies breathing in her smoke.

Copyright Janet Baldey