Stories
Good Neighbours
The aroma of brewing coffee welcomed Jack as he scraped the grass clippings from his boots on Chrissie's doormat.
He felt protective toward his young neighbour who had been left with four children to raise and whose slight strength and nervous disposition seemed inadequate for the task.
"Thank you very much, Jack." The cup rattled in the saucer as she placed it on the table in front of him. "The yard looks a lot better now. I don't know how I'd manage without you."
Jack was a good neighbour, always willing to help and unable to say no to anyone. His generous nature had led him once into a disastrous marriage, but he had survived the turbulent years and was determined not to relinquish his regained freedom.
Chrissie's shook as she passed the sugar, spilling a little onto the tablecloth. Jack looked up sharply.
"You're crook today, Chrissie." It was a statement, rather than a question.
She shrugged. "Oh, I still have this headache." She stirred four teaspoons of sugar into her coffee.
"I'll do Lucy's yard tomorrow," said Jack. 'Cripes, it's strange, looking across the road at her empty house. When is she coming back?"
"Oh, I've just had a letter from her." Chrissie produced a bulky envelope from her pocket. "She'll be back in a few weeks, but not to stay. She's going to pack up and return to England to live with her sister."
"I thought she didn't hit it off with her sister."
"She doesn't. She sounded heart-broken in her letter. Wasn't it awful, Jack - after saving for all those years to go back and visit her family, then here husband had a heart attack and died as they got off the plane!"
Jack and Chrissie had been shocked when they heard the news.
"He was a good bloke, old Harry." Jack helped himself to a piece of cake. "He would have been about my age, wouldn't he?"
"Yes, I think they were both in their late sixties. Lucy looks younger though, doesn't she?"
"Too right!" Jack's mental picture was more evocative than Chrissie's. Lucy was an attractive woman whose passion had not been satisfied by her husband.
"But why is she set on going back to England? She loves Australia. She has her home here and her son lives in Brisbane."
"That's the trouble. Its awful, Jack. Her husband didn't leave a will, so her son gets half the house and he wants to sell it."
Jack snorted. "Some son!"
"I know," said Chrissie. "They don't get on. He accused her of breaking up his first marriage."
"Hmmm, she is a bit of a stirrer. You should know Chrissie. She always wants you to do things her way."
"Yes, but can her son do that? Surely he can't legally put her out of her home."
"I don't know. I'll see what I can find out. Someone has to stick up for her rights."
"Anyway, " continued Chrissie, "she has to go back because she is English. Her son told her she wont be able to get a pension here."
"What a load of bull!" Jack exploded. "The rotten bastard just wants her out of his way. He's only thinking of himself."
He poured more coffee.
"Tell you what, " he said. "I'll pop in to Centrelink tomorrow and have a yarn with them. I'm sure she get some sort of pension."
Chrissie still looked troubled. Jack watched as she sugared her second cup of coffee.
"Cripes, Chrissie! I don't know how you stay as thin as a rake handle with all that sugar!"
"I need the energy." Her hands had stopped shaking, but she looked pale and drawn.
"Lucy really wants to stay here. Listen to this." Chrissie unfolded the heavily perfumed letter. The scent evoked for Jack vivid memories, which he had not shared with Chrissie.
"If only I could live in my little house," Lucy had written. "I know I would be alright with you next door, Chrissie. You could visit me every day and we would have lovely outings together in your car. Of course, I would miss my Harry, but who knows? I may marry again before too long. How is Jack? I often think of him…"
Jack slowly stirred his coffee and drank it in silence. "You know," he said at last. "Lucy's got no friends here beside you and me. She might be better off in England with her family."
A look of relief passed across Chrissie's weary face.
"Do you really think so jack?"
Jack wavered for just a second.
"Yeah, I reckon we shouldn't interfere."
MAMALADE
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