forgot at night when she was gripped in Jack’s strong arms and his lips and hands were caressing every part of her body. Her heart raced then but with pleasurable excitement, not terror. Her body pulsated with the thrill of him entering her. She wanted the forgetfulness, the pleasurable excitement, to last forever. But with the light of morning, and especially after Jack had left for work and she was alone, the terror returned.
She didn’t know what to do. More and more, she depended on Doris for company. Doris was more than happy to have her visit or to accompany her and her mother on some outing. Doris was fascinated when she recounted all that Jack had told her about the future plans for Glasgow.
‘Gosh, Mae, I can hardly wait until all that happens. We could go shopping together, couldn’t we?’
‘Of course, if you wanted to.’
‘That would be wonderful, Mae. It’ll give me something else to look forward to. And if Mother lives long enough to see it, she would be fascinated too. The only time she’s quiet and well-behaved is when she’s out somewhere with you. Otherwise – well, you know yourself what she’s like in the house.’
Indeed Mae did, and she often thought that she’d go stark raving mad if she had to put up with the old woman’s stupid repetitive talk and awful behaviour. All right, the poor soul was ill with dementia but it was terribly hard for Doris. Her mother was always running away from the house day and night and Doris had to chase after her and haul her back from nearly falling in the river or disappearing elsewhere. Doris seldom got a night’s sleep. The old woman didn’t seem to need a whole night’s sleep and as often as not, despite her sleeping tablet, she was up in the middle of the night and away outside, wearing only her nightie.
‘I always worry that, apart from anything else,’ Doris said, ‘she’ll get her death of cold. But not her. It’s me that gets the cold.’
Mae worried about Doris. She had grown painfully thin and gaunt and her grey-streaked hair stuck up like a wild neglected brush.
‘You need to look after yourself more, Doris.’
‘How can I?’ Doris looked as if she was about to break into wild sobbing and Mae realised it was a stupid thing to say. How could poor Doris ever be able to look after herself?
‘I’m sure your brother will soon come over and help you in every way he can. Now that you’ve written to him again.’
Nevertheless, in comparison with Doris, she was lucky. She tried to keep telling herself that. But it didn’t work.
20
Another day, Mae Kelly was hurrying back from doing some urgent shopping when she saw old Mrs McIvor pulling and tugging at the handle of number one. She began to run towards the house. Obviously Mrs McIvor had got out of her own house and was too confused to get back in to the right one again.
‘Mrs McIvor, it’s Mae,’ she cried out as soon as she reached the house. ‘Mae Kelly. Come on, I’ll take you into your own place.’
But Mrs McIvor pushed her away. ‘She’s locked me out.’
‘No dear, she hasn’t.’
‘Who are you? What do you know?’
‘I’m Mae Kelly. Your next door neighbour. You’ve met me before. Remember?’
‘No, I don’t. I don’t know who you are. She’s locked me out.’
Just then, Jack’s car arrived.
‘Something wrong? Can I help?’ He struggled out of the car and limped towards them. He knew about Mrs McIvor. Mae had told him how poor Doris suffered because of the old woman’s dementia.
It was then that the door of number two was flung open and a wild-haired Doris hastened out in great agitation.
‘I just went to the bathroom. I must have forgotten to lock the door. Oh, I’m so sorry.’
‘Not to worry,’ Jack said, linking arms with the old woman. ‘Come on, I’ll see you safely in to your own home.’
Mrs McIvor said to Doris, ‘I got the police to you.’
Mae went into the house with Doris and the old woman. Jack went back to garage