“Morning Molly,”
announced Dora brightly as she opened the door, “it is so kind of you to come
and collect me again today, I don’t get out much these days”.
Molly reached
out for Dora’s arm and helped her towards the parked minibus where the
rest of the group eagerly waited. Every week a charitable organisation
collected Dora, along with a group of four to five other ladies, and they all went
out for a cup of tea and a piece of cake. This weekly outing was at times the
only form of outside contact that members of the group encountered from week to
week; Molly found this heartbreaking.
Molly, who was
in her mid-forties, needed the company just as much as they did, therefore she too
enjoyed these coffee mornings. She found that she gained incredible insight,
and a deeper understanding, into surviving the hardships of life listening to
the ladies talk about post-war Britain. Regardless of what life had thrown at
them, they laughed it off and their outlook towards life was always so positive;
Molly admired their courage and strength and was grateful for what the group,
unbeknown to them, gave her in return.
Molly had
recently started her new voluntary position helping out at a local charity,
having being made redundant from her job six years earlier. As a result of her
redundancy, she had suffered a bout of depression, which lasted for five years.
She had been through the mill, and after this period, which she referred to as
her stolen years, she had decided to get out and re-connect with her community once
again. Her depression had been a long and tiresome process, and there were days
were she felt that she would never see the light again, feeling completely
lost, as if she were at the bottom of a dark pit.
Prior to these
five years, Molly had been a proactive member of society, helping out at most
of the community events and getting involved in every cause that was occurring
in her local area. She was a fighter and protested for the rights of others,
and would do all she could for those in need; hence, when she saw the advert in
her local jobcentre, she jumped at the chance to help with this local charity. She
felt this voluntary work was a new start and a move in the right direction, and
once again she felt as if she had a purpose, that she was active, something
worthwhile.
Once Dora and
Molly had fastened their seat beats, the minibus drove off towards the popular
little café on the corner of the High Street, the very one that the ladies had
been frequenting for years. Suddenly, the air was filled with excited
conversations, reviews of last week’s television programmes, and the local
gossip all needed to be discussed. The
group exchanged what they felt was relevant, alongside what each of them ‘needed
to know’. Molly felt a warm surge inside her and was touched by their closeness.
Most of the
ladies were fragile and struggled to get out and about, except to the local
shops once a week to collect milk, bread and other essentials. Cirencester was
a small town with many hills; therefore, a large amount of walking was
difficult for most of the group, so they only ventured out if they needed to go
get in milk or bread. Molly recalled
thinking how lucky she was and that she took her mobility for granted. Hearing
their stories of how hard it was to walk to town, Molly suddenly remembered the
days when she herself had felt unable to leave the house, when the thought of
going out into the sunlight was impossible, and so she had an understanding of
what it feels like to be a prisoner in one’s own home. This may have been for
different reasons; nevertheless the inability to leave the house was a similar
feeling, a feeling of helplessness.
The minibus
pulled up outside the café and the group shuffled out onto the pavement. This
was a slow procedure as each of the ladies needed to be helped into the café
one by one. Once they were all seated, they looked eagerly at the menu, excited
as they decided what delight they were going to treat themselves with this
week.
“Oh look!” said
Dora, “Scones and clotted cream, oh yes, that’s my order”.
One of the other
ladies saw the chocolate éclairs in the display cabinet, then, letting out an
animated shriek, she said that she was going to have one of them, regardless of
what her doctor had told her about watching her weight.
“At my age,” she
said, “I am hardly going to pull a young man, am I?”
With this the
ladies let out a chorus of laughter, as not only did they fully understand how
she felt, but they felt exactly the same.
Molly smiled because
she too knew how they felt, as into the third year of her depression, her
husband proclaimed one evening that he was unable to cope with her mood-swings
and was leaving. The truth of the matter was that he had been having an affair
with her secretary, twenty years his junior. She did not blame him; however, when
she was younger she had hoped that she would never fall into that category, the
“husband leaves wife for secretary half
his age” clique. She imagined the
gossip as a shudder ran up her spine.
As the cakes and
pots of tea arrived, the ladies began to tuck in to their chosen treats and the
conversation fell silent for a while. Suddenly, Molly felt low, as memories of
the past five years replayed in her mind.
“Are you alright
my dear?” asked Dora, noting the Molly was slightly distant today.
“Yes, thank you”
replied Molly, bringing herself back into the present and pushing her thoughts into
the back of her mind.
Then suddenly
something strange happened. As if Dora had read Molly’s thoughts, she began to
tell the group a story about a young man that she had met during the war. She
had thought the ‘sun shone out of his
backside”, and when he had promised her the world, she had believed him. She went on to tell a sad tale of how he had
deceived her and left her with child, never to return. In order to keep her
child, she needed to leave her small town where she lived with her family, and
move into what is now known as a mother and child unit.
Furthermore, she
described the years she struggled to make ends meet as a single parent at a
time when having a child outside wedlock was seen as sinful and frowned upon.
She was unable to have contact with her family, as her father had disowned her,
and without her family to support her, she felt so isolated and alone. After
the birth of her son, she suffered from postnatal depression, once again explaining
how this illness was hardly recognised in those days. People would tell her
that she ‘needed to get a grip’, and
she ‘had made her bed and had to lay in
it’. She spoke of how she felt as if no-one understood her battle against
postnatal depression, alongside her years of alcoholism.
Molly was amazed
at Dora’s open and honest story, and admired the risk Dora had taken exposing
this part of her life. Watching Dora as she sat here in the café eating her
scone and cream, one would never have thought that she may have been though
such a misfortunate life. Molly felt a
great sadness, not only for Dora but for herself too. Dora took hold of Molly’s
hand and squeezed it tightly, as if she knew exactly what Molly was feeling; it
was a very special moment.
The coffee
morning had come to an end and the ladies were escorted into the minibus individually.
Dora was the last to be collected, and as she walked arm-in-arm with Molly she
said, “I see myself in you, I recognise the pain you are suffering. One day you
will wake up and things will all make sense!”
Molly smiled as
she admired Dora’s resilience. She knew that Dora was right, that one day she would
wake up from this nightmare. After dropping all the ladies off and saying
goodbye to Dora, Molly sat at home with a cup of tea while recalling the morning’s
events. She marvelled at Dora’s bravery and admired her, for she had survived
such a challenging life with no support neither from her family nor the
community.
Molly suddenly
realised how lucky she was to have the support of her children and parents,
whom she had been pushing away for so long now. Molly wept softy for a while
and felt the last five years release themselves from her memory; suddenly, things
made sense.
MM C2012
MM C2012