The Treat by Joanne Grant
'Just the two of us,' Mummy said. 'Aunt Annie's too old for us all to go and visit, and she's not used to children.’
This was a real treat - to have Mummy all to myself. I don't even remember where the boys were. Maybe they were having a lovely day with Daddy, boys only.
We were going to visit Aunt Annie, over in Craigton, on the south side, just like Mummy did when she was a girl. I don’t remember how we got there, I just took my Mummy’s hand and we went.
I'd been to the house before, but not for a long time. Mummy sometimes spoke about it and about the aunts who didn't have any husbands or children. They were her family, her Mama's sisters. She said they were my family too.
I could almost remember what it was like inside the house, with the sweetie shop in the front room. And I knew about the garden too; about the white pebbles on the path round the side of the house. They were flat and round. When you held one in your hand it felt a bit warm.
I picked up one of these pebbles when Mummy and I walked round the house on our way to the back door, that day. I'd forgotten the lovely, soft scraping sound they made when you walked on them.
And, oh yes! The air raid shelter was still there under a hill in the middle of the drying green! I remembered rolling down the other side with my brother. But we didn’t ever go down the steps and inside. There were rats down there, you know.
Mummy called, ‘Hello-o!’ as she opened the back door and we went in through the scullery and up a step into the kitchen. It was quite dark in there. Aunt Annie sat in front of the range and Mummy went over and cuddled her. They said some things and then I had to cuddle Aunt Annie and kiss her too. I could feel her soft and spongy under her knitted shawl. She smelled different from anyone else I had kissed and her cheek was cold and floppy. I didn't remember her at all and I felt shy. She sat with her back to the window and I couldn't see her properly. Some of her hair wasn't pulled back and fastened like the rest. It made a white fringe round the side of her head. I thought she was looking at me but I wasn't sure.
Mummy was shouting and making a noise poking the fire till it got really red, then she put more coal on. I sat on a little stool by the range and watched and listened. They were talking about grown up things. Aunt Annie was the only deaf person I knew but she looked just the same as anybody else old.
Mummy made some tea from the kettle on the range and took her special little cakes-with-no-eggs-in from her shopping bag. When we don't need ration books, Mummy says she’ll make proper cakes for me. They started talking again and I looked at the fire in the range and wondered how many ovens and places to dry kindling sticks there were behind all the doors and drawers
Mummy's Aunt Annie was my Great Aunt Annie. She was so old, she was 80! I could still smell her breath in my hair and I wondered if her breath was 80 as well. There was a smell in the room too, kind of dusty; a bit like under the bed at home when I was hiding, playing hide and seek.
After our tea, Mummy whispered to me that she wanted to clean the press in the corner beside the sink. It was where food was kept and it was very dirty. I had to draw for Great Aunt Annie and talk about my pictures. Mummy said I was helping really well. I didn't like Aunt Annie watching me all the time but I tried my best. I don't think she did watch all the time. I think she went to sleep a bit.
I went to the bathroom before we left and when I came out I walked across the lobby to the door of the real shop. It was open so I peeked in. The blinds were shut but I could still see the real counter where the sweeties had been measured out of their jars into the scales then into paper pokes, and the deep drawer with little wooden bowls for the farthings and pennies. Mummy said that her aunts had let her serve people and make the pokes with paper. She had really been a shop keeper and put the money in the little bowls and given back change! I wished I could have.
It was time to go. Mummy poked the fire again and put on some more coal. Aunt Annie was still in her chair. I kissed her again. I knew how she would feel and smell now, so it was alright this time. Mummy said Aunt Annie was tired.
We left and walked up the road to Miss Grey's house. Miss Grey popped in and out of Aunt Annie's house all day, Mummy said. They both stood at Miss Grey's door for ages talking about Aunt Annie. I looked back at the house and tried to imagine people going into the sweetie shop then coming out with their little pokes of sweets.
On the way back Mummy talked and talked about how filthy the press had been and how she wished she had more time to help Aunt Annie and how Miss Grey was a Godsend.
Then Mummy got very quiet.
We got to our street and she took my hand.
'I used to love going there when I was a girl.'
I looked up at my Mummy. Her face was sad.
We walked on home.
