“You have to get out, Mar,” she said out loud to herself one afternoon in early October, after lying on her bed staring at the ceiling for nearly an hour. She had developed the habit of talking to herself just to make sure her tongue didn’t wither away. “Stop just lounging about, feeling sorry for yourself. Get out of the house and do something.”
Bracing herself against the cutting wind that blew in from the sea, Marion walked into Northport Town Centre. On the high street she stopped at an Age Concern shop. Though many people complained about the charity shops in Northport, with their smell of old books, dust, and clothes that have been put away slightly damp, Marion enjoyed exploring them in search of hidden treasure.
The woman behind the counter wore a blond wig and makeup that, in Marion’s opinion, looked too showy for her thin, wrinkled face. Marion went to the back of the shop where they kept paperback books, old records, and other items that weren’t clothing. There was a pile of DVDs with lurid pictures of men with guns and explosions, lovers kissing, and comedians grinning foolishly. They were five for a pound, which seemed a very good value, though she wasn’t sure any of them were her type of thing.
Looking through the box of secondhand toys, she came across a naked Barbie doll on which someone had drawn nipples and pubic hair with black felt-tip pen. She was shocked that such a thing had been put out for sale in the shop; surely whoever sorted through the donated items should have chucked that obscene doll into the bin, or at least tried to remove the black felt-tip and put some clothes on it? Marion glanced over her shoulder and saw the woman at the counter was watching her carefully.
Tossing to one side a robot with an arm missing and a plastic horse, she came across a huge stuffed dog with golden-brown fur, floppy ears, and an enormous drooping snout. Marion felt a rush of pity for the animal. She wanted to wrap her arms around its cushiony body, to bury her face in its threadbare coat. But the dog was far too big for her to buy; she would look ridiculous carrying it down the high street. After giving its nose a guilty pat, she began searching through another box.
She picked up a sweet yellow teddy; what was left of its fur had set into hard little tufts, and it smelled faintly of sick, so she put it back down again. Then she came across another bear with lovely white fur and a big red bow around its neck. It looked almost brand-new. Marion knew that it was wrong to love the new toys better than the old worn ones, but something about the white bear sent a shot of joy through her heart. Then she found a tiny plush ladybird at the bottom of the box that she didn’t have the heart to leave behind. She took both toys over to the cash register to pay for them.
“So are these for your grandchildren?” said the woman, picking up the worn little ladybird.
Marion looked down at her hands gripping her leather purse and noticed the backs were creased and covered with brown freckles. It seemed strange to her that people should think she was old enough to be a grandmother when she still felt like a large, ungainly child.
“I don’t know if I’d buy secondhand toys,” said the woman, “you don’t know where they’ve been, do you? If I gave these to my Karen’s kids, well, she would probably chuck them straight in the bin.” She sniffed. “Little Kieran has asthma, and things like this are a magnet for dust and germs, you know. Karen likes everything new and modern. Anyway, I am sure your grandkids will enjoy them all the same.”
“I don’t have any children or grandchildren, as a matter of fact,” said Marion.
“So who are you buying them for?”
Marion bristled with irritation. Why was this awful person asking her so many questions? Really, she should tell her to mind her own business.
“For myself—I collect them.”
The woman raised eyebrows that had been clumsily sketched with a dark brown pencil.
“Hum—well I wouldn’t have thought of them as collector’s items exactly, I mean they’re not like those posh German bears you see on Antiques Roadshow, are they?”
Marion wished the woman would just let her pay for the toys so she could leave. Then she began to examine the big white teddy bear, puffing it up as if it were a throw cushion and straightening out its bow.
“This is a nice one, though, almost brand-new.” Her small circle of shrimp-colored mouth wrinkled, and she gave Marion a suspicious look as though she had been trying to leave the shop without paying for the toy.
“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to charge more than a pound for this teddy.”
“Well—all right, will you please just tell me how much?” asked Marion impatiently. It depressed her to realize that this was probably the longest she had spoken to anyone in weeks.
The woman looked at the bear.
“I don’t know, maybe five pounds?”
Marion was shocked. “Really, that seems a lot.”
“Well, it is for charity, isn’t it? And just think how much you would have to pay for a nice teddy like this in a proper toy shop. Ten or fifteen quid at least.”
The woman pressed the teddy’s nose between her breasts in a manner that Marion did not like at all. Realizing that she had no choice but to pay, she handed over the cash quickly.
? ? ?
ON HER JOURNEY home, the way she had been treated in the shop churned in Marion’s mind. She thought that the awful woman with her cheap makeup and wig probably only took the job so she would get the chance to boss people around; she obviously wasn’t charitable by nature. She really ought to write and complain. Then she thought: “I hope she gets some awful disease. I hope she gets cancer.” A rush of horror that she could come up with such an idea overcame Marion, and she quickly scrubbed it from her mind.
When she got home, she took out the big white teddy to admire him. He really was so lovely with his thick silky fur and blue eyes made from real glass rather than plastic. It had been worth dealing with that awful woman just to rescue him. While she was thinking about what to name the bear, she filled the kettle to make herself a cup of tea. It puzzled her to see the blue ottoman from Mother’s bedroom standing by the door to the cellar. Then the door opened and John came out. He normally shut it behind him immediately, but this time he walked into the kitchen leaving it ajar. She felt suddenly fearful, as if some unwelcome spirit might escape through the gap, and she wished he would close it.
“More teddies, Marion? What are you like, you daft old bird.”
She bit down hard on her lower lip to punish herself for being so stupid. Why hadn’t she hidden the toys away before he’d seen them? John picked up the new white teddy bear to examine it.
“Well, he’s a handsome chap, isn’t he?”
“Yes, looks almost brand-new. I wonder why someone took him to the charity shop?”
“So what’s for dinner, then, love?”
“I was going to do cod with boiled peas.”
“And mashed potatoes?”
“Yes, I could do some instant Smash if you want.”
As he was about to leave, John did a strange thing. He planted a little kiss on the top of her head and then put the big white teddy bear into the ottoman and carried it down the cellar. Marion was so astounded by the kiss that she barely stopped to think what he might be doing with the ottoman and the teddy bear.