As she stood up, Maude groaned in discomfort, shuffled down the bus steps and set her two shopping bags down on the wet pavement. With arthritic hands she tightened her old tweed coat against the bitter wind, pushed a few strands of grey hair back into her rain bonnet and thought how everything was so much more difficult these days.
“Excuse me? Are you alright there?......um… Do you need a hand? It’s absolutely freezing eh!”
Maude smiled and looked up to see a pretty brunette dressed in the usual Saturday night attire of mini dress, thigh boots and black puffer jacket. She was probably about 25 years old and her thick eyebrows looked like two ferrets in season. Her eyes looked kind though.
“Ach I’m ok love. Its just age, you know, and this awful weather. Used to be a time I could run and up and down these roads but ach those days are long gone. I’m Maude by the way.”
“I’m Sharon, well my mates call me Shazza. Have you got far to go? I’m waiting for my boyfriend to get off the next bus but that’s not for another 15 minutes, I could help carry your bags a wee bit?”
Maude, delighted, jumped at the chance “Oh, that would be great love. My hands are aching carrying these. The plastic digs into your fingers and that hill seems to get steeper every day. I’m only at number 96, the house that stands by itself just after the bridge.”
They chatted as they walked, Maude spoke of her two grown daughters, one a successful solicitor in a classy New York firm and the other a social worker in Bethnal Green. Both busy with their careers, new friends and newer husbands. Not much time for visiting her anymore but she was very proud.
Maude’s eyes glistened. “It’s my husband, George, that I miss the most. Married 45 years and always in each other’s pockets. We did everything together. He even went with me to the Bingo. He has been dead 2 years now and, oh, how I miss him. Ach! I’m a silly old fool dear. I still leave his tartan slippers beside his favourite chair and I’ve not washed his last whisky glass. Its less lonely that way. He loved a wee whisky when he watched the horses on the telly. Those damn slippers though, I must trip over them twice a day. Then I scream: George, you’ve left your slippers lying about again! Of course, there’s no one to talk back. Oh, I didn’t mean to upset you Sharon.”
“Its just so lovely Maude. Not everyone finds someone that loves them like that. Some men ...
”Maude glanced over at Sharon. “Some men give you black eyes, eh love?”
Instinctively Sharon concealed her face.
“Love, there’s no need to hide yourself, I noticed it earlier when you picked up my bags. The ones on your wrists look fresher.”
Sharon explained that Robert, her boyfriend, didn’t mean to hurt her. It was usually her fault. She would say the wrong thing. Do the wrong thing. Make the wrong dinner or forget his favourite soap. And Robert was under so much pressure at work. Sharon wasn’t being sensitive enough to his stress.
“I love him Maude, I just need to listen more to his needs. Its really great when he’s happy with me.”
Maude sighed and then stopped at her garden gate. “Look this is me. Why don’t you come in for a cup of hot tea and a chat? Leave the beggar waiting around for a bit. Or don’t turn up at all.”
“Oh, I can’t! I just need to be there. Maybe some other time.”
“Come on Love. Look at the state of you, teary and wet from the rain. You need someone to chat to and a hot cup of tea to warm you up. In fact, I have Prosecco - that wine you young ones drink. I’ll open that and join you in a wee tipple. We could have some Victoria cake as well. I just made it this morning.”
Sharon felt guilty. She knew Maude was lonely and just trying to help, but she just could not go in for a cup of or tea or anything else. Robert would go mad with fury if she left him standing at the bus stop. Things had only just got calmer these last few days. She couldn’t upset him.
Maude suddenly stumbled forwards and, falling, gripped onto Sharon’s arm.
Aghast, Sharon gently helped her up. “Maude. Maude are you ok?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine. just a wee dizzy spell, I must have forgotten to eat lunch again. Could you see me to my door please love, maybe help me sit down in my chair before you run off to see your fella?”
Sharon agreed, upset for her, and picking up the bags, followed behind. Her phone rang.
“Oh, Hi Rob! Yes, sorry sorry…I have been watching the time yes…Yes but this old woman needed some help and well she just fell. I’m just going to help her into her house. What? No Rob! I would never do that! Her name is Maude we are just at that big house at the end of the bridge … uhm … number 96. Ok, Ok I’ll wait for you here. Rob I am so, so sorry I was just ...”
Maude shook her head.“Tsk! You deserve better you know Sharon. But off you go. I’m fine really. No point in him walking all the way up here, and he’s obviously angry. I might also give him a piece of my mind treating a lovely girl like you so badly and that would make matters much worse!”
Maude grabbed back her bags back, despite Sharon’s weak protestations and shooed her off back down the road. “Take care Sharon and thanks for the help, look after yourself.”
Sharon, upset at doing everything all wrong again and terrified about the consequences, remained silent as she ran back towards the bus station.
Maude closed the front door, engaged the safety chain and shuffled along the drab musky hall. The suffocating silence washed over her. In the kitchen, scatterings of mildew flourished amongst the peeling wallpaper and dirty dishes were piled on every worktop surface. She grabbed two teacups, rinsed them under the cold tap, switched the kettle on to boil and opened a new packet of rich tea biscuits.
“You can come out of the cupboard now George. Put the claw-hammer back in the toolbox. You won’t be needing it tonight. She told some idiot our address on her bloody mobile phone. Oh, and those bags at the front door, they’re full of air fresheners. Put some more downstairs. The last one under the floor is beginning to really stink. You’re going to have to get your axe back out soon before the heat of summer arrives. Pretty soon you’ll need to get off your lazy arse and help me snare some pretty subbie playthings. I’m much too old for this game on my own.”
“Yes Mistress” he said
Maude sat down on the sagging sofa, dipped her biscuit in her tea, put her feet up and settled down to Coronation Street. She thought of George, He was a good little submissive boy - always did her bidding but her taste over the last few years had veered towards females. They cried so sweetly at the torture. The issue of consent in Femdom however always pissed her off!
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