Dolly's Mixture by Dorothy Scannell

Author:Dorothy Scannell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 2015-12-10T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Lighten Our Darkness

It would, of course, be wrong to say that I was a little ray of sunshine during Chas’s illness and our other troubles, yet it wasn’t all gloom. Although Ade was working overtime – frantically, as though there was no time left in the world – to amass a nest-egg for her Johnny, she still gave me one whole evening each week. Her Guild evening. Obviously I was unable to spare a moment of time outside the shop except for hospital visiting, but it was good of her to opt out also. ‘The Lord will understand, Dolly.’

We did go to a party for a Roman Catholic foundation, for Ade’s twins had become betrothed to two sisters, nurses at a nearby hospital. (Ade was over the moon that two of her boys should have been lucky enough to capture ideal partners.) It was a different affair from our Church Guild. It was jollier, for a start. A new priest, a fair, angelic-looking boy called Quentin, had recently been inducted. He came late to the party, having been detained elsewhere. He was, I suppose, in mufti. ‘I do apologise, friends, for being without my collar.’ ‘Never mind, Quentin,’ called our Ade, ‘so long as you’ve got your trousers on!’

I was horrified at Ade’s remark to a man of the cloth but the guests loved it, and even Quentin giggled. ‘Do call me Quentin,’ he said to Ade, ‘and I will call you Adeline.’ Remarked an elderly lady sitting nearby, shocked at the Christian names’ invitation, ‘I like my Fathers to be Fathers!’ ‘I thought that was the idea,’ said Ade to the indignant lady. ‘Don’t they have to celebrate, by having none of it?’ Disdaining to reply to such irreverent flippancy, the lady moved away with a superior sniff. ‘I bet she’s a Frigid Fan,’ said Ade as the lady greeted a familiar face at the door of the hall. She held her head back disdainfully as an elderly man pecked her cheek. It was my passionate Official! So that was his wife! He had arrived to sing for the party. Ade was in hysterics as he sang something between a spiritual and an operatic aria. He had a very good voice but it wobbled slightly as he caught sight of Dolly and Ade, for his first line began, ‘Take me to your bosom’. The singer, or the song, became quite uninhibited with, ‘Now I am deep in the bosom....’ ‘I reckon his mother weaned him too soon,’ remarked Ade, now the psychiatrist.

‘You know what happened to Frigid Fan and Bertie Boosoms’ daughter, Stephanie?’ There was no need for me to be all ears, for Ade’s whisper was still a good carrying voice, and I drew her to the corner of the hall. ‘Well, I felt sorry for the girl, they just wouldn’t leave her alone, they made out she was something special, a cut above all her school mates. She must make a good marriage. Well, they got her engaged to a queer sort of bloke, an only son of wealthy business people.

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