She would be standing in her doorway, waving a £5 note. As children, we knew the signal.
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Nicotine is a powerful drug, as Karen Evans vividly shows us in this true story from her South Wales childhood. ~LaVonne
~~~
When I was a child, we looked down on our neighbours. Literally.
Our street was so steep our back yard was way above the heads of anyone standing in next-door’s back yard. But that didn’t stop us being good friends.
The neighbours were elderly when we moved in, and over the years we watched them get stouter, greyer, and less healthy. After her stroke Audrey was banned cigarettes, and her husband, listening to doctor’s instructions, could rarely be persuaded to buy her any. So every time he left for a game of golf we would hear Audrey calling for my mother, in the sideways phrases of a stroke victim. She would be standing in her doorway, waving a £5 note. As children, we knew the signal.
“Mum, Mum, Audrey wants some fags!” And my mother would grab a packet from her own supply, and run out to pass them over the wall.
As children, this seemed contrary, if not perverse. But Mum and Audrey had talked it over, and Audrey had very clear views on the matter.
“It’s the only thing I can enjoy any more.” she would say. “There’s nothing else left.”
And who were we to pass judgment?
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3 comments
January 23, 2012 at 3:54 am
Love it….really enjoyed, ad soo surpised you;re from South Wales…thought you were Staeside…really took me back.. I <3 one.blue.berry….:)
January 23, 2012 at 11:15 am
Karen Evans is the author and she’s from South Wales, not me. Is that what you meant?
February 19, 2012 at 6:42 pm
I can completely understand this. My mother was a quadrilateral amputee and even though smoking is unhealthy – and she could barely even do it on her own – we figured she’d been through enough and if it made her happy, so be it.