Free Moving On by Rosie Harris Page B

reception area to the outside lobby where the postboxes were located to see if there were any letters waiting for her.
    Two women were already there; both were grey-haired, one small and tubby and dressed in a green patterned blouse and plain green skirt, the other, tall and angular, was wearing a very smart mid-calf dark red dress.
    The tubby woman was about to unlock her mailbox, the other one was taking the key out of hers and grumbling about the amount of junk mail she had found in it.
    ‘Well, I suppose it’s better than bills.’ The tubby woman laughed as she extracted a sheaf of leaflets and quickly scanned through them before screwing them up.
    They both looked at Jenny enquiringly as if not too sure who she was or what she was doing there.
    ‘Hello, I’m Jenny Langton, I’ve just moved in,’ she said, smiling first at one and then at the other.
    ‘Second floor? I heard all the banging and noise and I knew the flat had been sold so I thought it must be someone moving in. My apartment is right under yours.’
    ‘Oh dear, I’m so sorry if the removal men disturbed you,’ Jenny said apologetically.
    ‘That’s all right; you can’t help making a bit of noise at first. I’m Beryl Willis and this is Sandra Roberts,’ she added, nodding in the other woman’s direction.
    ‘I live on the same floor as you,’ Sandra told her in a quiet voice.
    Beryl looked at her watch. ‘If we are going to be over in Liverpool on time we’d better hurry,’ she stated.
    With a quick ‘see you again sometime’ they both scuttled off, and once more Jenny found herself alone and wondering what to do.
    She went back to her flat and looked around. It was tidy but felt strange, almost as if she didn’t really belong there. She looked out of the window at the neatly laid out communal garden and sighed. She was already missing her own garden and the pleasure of wandering out of the back door, strolling down the path, smelling the freshness of the soil as she pulled out the odd weed that had sprung up overnight and took note of what needed attention.
    On impulse she reached for her outdoor coat, her hat and gloves and then picked up her keys. A brisk walk along the promenade was what she needed, she told herself.
    It was no good moping or hankering for what had been. A good walk would blow away her feeling of depression. On the way back she would find out where the nearest shops were and buy some milk and bread and anything else that caught her fancy.
    It would give her a chance to plan what she intended doing in future. She would have to find something to fill in her days. Perhaps she could help out at a charity shop, or even get a part time job, she told herself.
    It was a bright day but the wind had a biting edge as it swept in off the Mersey. It was the sort of morning she loved; a morning to peg out the washing and watch it blowing as she rewarded herself with a cup of coffee.
    Thinking of coffee reminded her about the coffee morning at Merseyside Mansions. Did she really want to go to it? Certainly it would be an opportunity to meet the other residents; but did she want to do that? Was it a good idea to make friends with the neighbours, or would it be better if she kept herself to herself, she wondered.
    Up until now she had always led a very private life. After William died she had been too busy looking after Eddy and later on Karen to have much time for a life of her own. She had been perfectly happy with that arrangement and never craved outside interests.
    Now, though, with both William and Eddy dead and Karen living independently, it was all so different, and there were times now when she had to admit that she felt lonely; very lonely.
    The walk revived her spirits. Who could be downhearted on such a lovely morning she asked herself, as she watched boats plying up and down the Mersey, gulls swooping and screaming overhead and the first of the day-trippers already taking up their favourite spots on the beach.
    As she