Begonias
“Oh, my word!” shrieked Ann Shelton as she watched the next-door neighbour’s black Labrador trample her precious begonia’s. What made matters worse was that the dog had also left a deposit on her neatly manicured lawn.
She knocked on the window, but the dog paid no attention to her. She saw the man next door, a Mr Johnson who had just moved in two weeks before, out in his garden so she banged on her window. The man looked toward her, and she pointed towards the dog. He peered over the top of the fence and shrugged, shouting: “Dogs will do what dogs do!”
“Not in my back garden they won’t,” retorted Ann, who had opened her living room window. “Now please!” she commanded with a trembling upper lip as she jerked her thumb in his direction and closed the window.
Tom Johnson placed his strong hands on the top of the fence and called . on his dog, Blackie, which, on hearing the voice, ran back and slithered under the bottom wire of the fence. Ann mimed a thank you to him through the glass, but Tom just looked away shaking his head. What a rude man, thought Ann as she drew her curtains and patted her permed red hair.
The doorbell rang, and Ann answered then guided her friend Isobel into the living room. Then, heading into the kitchen, Ann told Isobel all about her trouble with the neighbour as she popped on the kettle.
“Ah right,” said Isobel. “Tom Johnson had trouble with his neighbours in Brethwick after his wife passed away a year and a half ago. Things got pretty bad I heard, and he moved out.”
“Oh Isobel! What can I do?” asked Ann with rising concern as she walked into the living room.
“Now Ann calm down I didn’t say… he was totally to blame. Is it the dog that's bothering you?”
“No, it's just the tip of the iceberg. There's shouts and screams in the night; I don't know what he's up to in there!”
“Oh dear,” said Isobel with a sigh.
“I did hear that he rescued the dog from some terrible owners.”
“He’s not all bad then!”
“I suppose!”
A few days later Ann looked out her living room window onto her garden and felt her blood pressure rise. The begonias she had revived after the last trouble along with other plants were either trampled on or completely pulled out of the earth.
She noticed Tom Johnson stroll into his back garden, and she opened her window and bellowed: “Mr Johnson that dog of yours has been in my garden again!” Causing him to straighten up and then carry on walking toward his bins.
“And if I find another deposit on my lawn, it will come through your letterbox!” she shouted with uncharacteristic venom.
“Ooooh!” shouted Tom as he emptied his litter bin.
One day Ann and Isobel were sitting chatting over coffee in a café on the High Street when Tom Johnson entered and walked past their table and nodded.
“They say he does voluntary work at the Homeless Centre. Serves lunches and teas,” said Isobel after Tom sat in the café's rear.
“Oh!”
“I actually find him a bit dishy for his age.”
“Really! I never noticed.” Ann retorted.
“His wife died of pancreatic cancer,” said Isobel taking a sip of her cappuccino.
“Same as my Dave.”
“Oh Ann I didn’t mean to…”
“No, no It’s okay Isobel,” said Ann as she turned and gazed out of the window. “He has an American accent,” she said after a pause.
“Yes, they say he was in the services before coming over here and marrying a local woman.”
Later that day Ann was browsing the books in the local Cancer Research charity shop when a deep voice from behind her said: “Would you really do it?”
Ann spun around to see Tom Johnson smiling at her from the other side of the pay desk.
“Would I do what?” she asked puzzled.
“Put the deposit through my letterbox.”
“Listen, Mr Johnson…”
“Tom!”
“Tom. I was angry. I don’t usually say things like that.”
“I’ve stopped leaving the dog unsupervised in the back garden.”
“Thank you. I never knew you worked in here.”
“Off and on since my Pat died. I felt like I wanted to do something to help since she died of cancer.”
“As did my husband,” said Ann with a quivering voice as she ran a finger along the spine of a book on the upper shelf. “I would like to help with voluntary work, but have never had the confidence to volunteer,”
“There’s nothing to it, I could register you today if you like.”
“Oh, I’ll think about it,” she said returning to her browsing with a smile.
The next morning Ann’s doorbell rang and answering it she found Tom Johnson standing at the bottom of her steps.
“I’ve come to see if you would like to come and help at the Homeless Centre on the High Street,” he said.
“Oh Tom! I don’t know?”
“You wanted to do some voluntary work, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but… I’m not properly dressed.”
“We just serve up lunch for homeless people. Come on you look fine.”
“Okay, I’ll get my coat.”
The dining room of the centre was filling up and a meaty smell filled the air as Ann and Tom entered
“Hey Tom!” shouted a man with a beard and rotten teeth sitting at a table.
“Gerry—you’re the guy,” said Tom with a laugh.
“What’s for dinner today?” asked a young woman in rough clothes.
“I don’t know Linda, but it smells good!”
They entered the kitchen and Tom introduced Ann to the other volunteers as he handed her a pinafore. They spent two hours serving meals to homeless and to people who had fallen on hard times.
On the way home Ann said, “You’re different when you’re dealing with the people in there.”
“These people are suffering enough without someone like me dealing with them brusquely.”
They walked on in silence for a moment before Tom asked: “Would you like to go for a coffee?”
“I think I deserve one after all that serving,” said Ann with a laugh.
They strolled into a café and Tom ordered two coffees and two muffins.
“So how did you end up next to me then, Tom?” Ann asked after they were seated.
“It’s no secret - I went off the rails a bit when Pat died,” Tom said as he sipped his coffee. “I was angry at the world I guess, and I’m afraid the neighbours got in the way.”
“I felt like that when Dave passed away.”
“Anyway, things went from bad to worse and I had to move. I... I'm sorry for the shouts at night. I stopped taking my pills for a while and the dreams returned.”
Ann put her hand on his. “What's the matter with you, Tom?”
Tom looked into her eyes. “I shouldn't be talking about this, but I need to tell you. I can't go running from place to place. You see when I was a kid in America I was experimented on with mind control and drugs by the CIA.”
“Oh, you poor man,” said Ann as a serious look fell over her features.
"They strapped me into a chair one time and attached electrodes. I swear to you Ann they transported me across the galaxy and I walked on a planet like Earth, but with no people.”
“Tom... I don't know what to say!”
“I still get flash-backs from these times and the campaigns I was on with the army; and I was one of the lucky ones: I survived. The pills I take stop the flash-backs.”
Tom paused for a moment and stared out of the window, then he looked at Ann. “You have nothing to fear. I... I just need to stop running. I've restarted the pills, and I'll keep my dog out of your begonias!”
They both laughed and drank their coffee.
Tom eventually convinced Ann to serve behind the Cancer Research shop counter and the two became inseparable. Tom would walk Ann to and from the shop and the Homeless Centre. They would go out for coffee on rare days off.
One day Ann was taking Tom’s dog for a walk when she heard a familiar voice from across the street. “Someone’s changed their tune!”
Ann turned to see Isobel crossing the road toward her, saying: “What’s happened here?”
“Isobel! Oh let’s just say I’ve had a change of heart.”
“I know. I heard that you and old grumpy are an item. What’s next—an engagement?”
“Well you never know.”
“So how are you getting on, lady?”
“With Tom? Oh great; I'm just not sure...?”
“Ann... not sure about what?”
“Not sure if he's quite being honest with me about things from his past.”
“Och! We all have our skeletons in the cupboard. As long as you're both now happy!”
“Yes, you're right.”
“I wish I could find a man like that,” said Isobel with a sigh.
“Well... get some begonias!”