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THE MEDAL

The old lady sat in her chair at the blue Formica topped table.  Her milky blue eyes staring into space.  Her mind kept going to her past dreams, which, for her, was better than the reality of the present.  If she had done what the doctors advised and had her cataracts removed, she would be able to see the room was dusty, with cobwebs hanging from the ceiling but she had heard so much on the news about hospital bugs she had no intention of dying from something that was going to eat her.  No, she had made up her mind, she was going to die in bed, her own bed, preferably in her sleep.  She didn’t fear death, after all at eighty eight you expected it, and some even welcomed it.  It was the manner in which she would die she feared.  With a sigh she eased herself out the chair, her swollen disfigured hands clinging on the edge of the table.  ‘I think I’ll make myself a cup of tea’, she thought.  As she slowly made her way to the kettle the front door was opened.

“Hello Brenda, only me”

“Who’s me” she shouted

“Don’t you remember, I am the home help, my name is Naomi.  Your doctor arranged it with you; I am to come in every day, do a bit of cleaning and shopping”

Brenda stared at the young girl in front of her; she had at least five rings in one ear, one on her lip and a stud through her nose.  Her first thoughts were that she must leak when she has a bath with all those holes in her.  Still staring she folded her arms over her ample breasts “Don’t know what that fool doctor was thinking of; I don’t need you or anyone else to help me, I can manage perfectly alright on my own so you might as well keep your coat on and go”.

Undeterred Naomi kept on removing her coat, hanging it on the hook at the back of the kitchen door.  “Don’t you worry about me Brenda” she said “I will be in and out in no time.  Shall I make you a nice cup of tea and a sandwich before I start?”

Brenda sat back in her chair and wondered why this woman was talking to her as if she was a child; either that or she thought she was a little bit soft in the head.  Settling back into her chair she let her thoughts return to her dreams.   They were not really dreams, it was her past but it was so long ago she could not decide if it was real or not.

Naomi looked at the old lady at the table.  ‘Crickey, I’ve got a right one here, face like a slapped backside.  Why do I always get the miserable old biddies’ she thought?

 “Right, where do you keep all your cleaning things?”  It was so long since Brenda had seen them she had to think hard.  “I expect if you look hard enough you will find them” she said rudely, not wanting to admit she could not remember.

When the doorbell went Naomi quickly went to answer it.  It was the post man with a small parcel, which she signed for then handed it over to Brenda who at first just pushed it to one side.

“Don’t you want to know what is in your parcel?”

“It will only be a free thing, no one ever sends me anything”

“I don’t know” said Naomi “It looks important to me and I did have to sign for it.”

“Well, if you think it is that important, you open it”.

Naomi slowly undid the parcel, not sure what she would find.  Inside was a green box together with a paper.  On opening it she saw a medal nestling on a dark green velvet cushion.

“Brenda, listen to this.  It says it’s a medal for work you did on the land army”. Unfolding the paper she let out a low whistle “This is a certificate signed by Gordon Brown!”

Brenda looked at her in disbelief.  “I can’t believe they have at last recognised us” she said.

Taking the parcel from Naomi she looked at the medal.  It had the royal crown on top, a gold rim and a white sheaf of corn in the middle.  In gold letters it had Land Army and Timber Core.  The certificate was the government thanking her for her valuable work carried out during the war and was, as Naomi said, signed by Gordon Brown.

“I will have that cup of tea now girl” Brenda said.

As Naomi busied herself in the kitchen Brenda’s mind went back to her days in the Land Army.  She joined at 19; she had wanted to go in the Wrens but somehow ended up in a field in Devon.  As she was a girl from Liverpool it was a great culture shock. Her hair was long, thick brown which she had in a roll and a small fringe.  She was tall and slim. She didn’t have swollen legs and feet then, they were slim and when she went dancing she wore high heels and painted a seam down the back of her legs with gravy browning pretending she was wearing stockings.  She could dance all night, the quick step, waltz and the latest craze of the jitterbug.  She would come back to the farm late at night with the other land army girls, what were their names now?  Yes, one was Pauline, Maureen and the one she remembered the most was Lily.  She remembered the farmer and his wife at the first firm she was billeted to; they were cruel to the girls, not feeding them right, only giving them a bowl of cold water to wash in and she could still remember the cold, it went right through her. Even though she came from a large family her mother had always kept a warm house with lots of food, warming filing soups and stews with thick cut bread and margarine, just thinking about it made her mouth water.  The farmer made them plant potatoes, then dig them up when ready, she learnt to drive a tractor, castrate a pig and thatch a roof.  She remember meeting a lot of soldiers, one in particular caught her eye, he gave her a bar of chocolate, how she made that last.  She hid it in her drawer under her clothes so she did not have to share it, not a nice thing to do she thought; oh well can’t change it now.  Five years she worked on different farms in Devon, she got head lice, bad feet, and chilblains like she had never had before.  Not all the farmers where like the first one, it was on the last farm that she met her beloved Harry.  He was the farmer’s son and he came home on leave and she took one look at him and decided he was the one for her.  How she loved him, there courtship was long and distant, he was sent abroad but she was one of the lucky ones, he came back in one piece, in mind and body.  They had a lovely wedding, and they managed to go to Wales for their honeymoon.  It was a happy marriage, no children but that did not matter too much although it would have been nice.  One of her children might be here with her now instead of that bit of a girl singing away in my kitchen.  She was so happy then, young with her whole life in front of her.  So vivid were her thoughts that she was sure if she stood up and went to the mirror she would see her young self.  Getting up slowly she walked to the mirror above the fireplace, her eyes straining hard to see.  All she could see was a stranger, a lady with thin grey hair, a large round lined face and she could just make out a tear coming down one cheek.  Sitting down again Naomi came in with the tea.  Picking up the certificate and medal she read them aloud.  “So, Brenda, this medal, what was it you had to do?”  Brenda told Naomi at length about the different farms she had been on and all the jobs she had done.  By the time Brenda had told her story their tea had got cold.  Standing up with the tea cups in her hands Naomi looked at Brenda, she no longer saw the old lady with the swollen hands and feet, she imagined her when she was young. The look she now gave Brenda was one of respect; it was a look that made Brenda sit up straighter in her chair and smile.  “Let’s have another cup of tea, Naomi did you say your name was?”