I tried to avoid eye contact but it was too late. I could see her waving me down furiously with two oversized, non-distinct shopping bags in each hand.
“Oh no, please not me, I’m in a rush,” I mumbled under my breath.
I could see the odd socks pulled up to the knee and what looked like century-old Clark’s shoes, worn in on both sides, giving her an uneven gait. As she continued to walk towards me, I caught sight of her matted black hair which had spread itself wide, making an escape from her scalp. Her teeth, what she had left of them, were black and chipped; I was guessing she was around 65.
“Oh!…I forgot to go to slimming world!” she announced loudly, catching my attention by lifting the bags like weights and then dropping them with force, to the floor. “Have you been to slimming world, that’s slimming world not swimming world?” she chuckled.
“No, never been,” I said, trying to look like I really had to be somewhere.
“Have you seen ‘em?” She points with her shopping bag at three young men fifty yards away, one is balancing precariously on his motorbike on the pavement, the other on his pushbike.
“Bloody yobbos, so much trouble round ‘ere, lived ‘ere eight years. Wish I hadn’t moved from the old town, bloody dump that used to be, but they all moved out. Bloody yobbos, look at ‘em…look at ‘em, I ‘ope they fall off that motorbike and break their bloody skulls, you know there’s drugs round ‘ere don’t you?” she said, perhaps thinking I was new to the area.
“Yes, I thought there might be, tends to be everywhere nowadays,” I said.
“Look at ‘em, look at ‘em, bloody yobbos! I’m dreading Halloween, I get nothing but eggs thrown at me window, I get really scared. Sometimes, I just order a takeaway and I don’t go anywhere for days around that time of year. You married?”
“No,” I said.
“You got kids?” she asked.
“No,” I said.
“Do you live round ‘ere?” she asked, continuing the intense interrogation.
“Yes,” I said, sighing loudly in my head.
“Whereabouts?” she asked.
“Acacia Avenue,” I said, suddenly regretting my decision to tell her where I lived and then feeling ashamed of myself for thinking that.
“Oh, really, right I see…you know Jill?” she asked.
“Erm…yes I think I do,” I said, lying.
“Yeah yeah you do, number two, her hubby just died didn’t he, poisoned I think?” she said.
“Oh gosh, how awful, I didn’t know,” I said, confused, wondering why I hadn’t heard about this from a neighbour before now.
“Do you smoke?” she asked
“No,” I said.
“Have you ever smoked?” She asked again.
“Yes,” I said, starting to feel a little agitated. I had only come out to get chocolate at the local corner shop.
“I’ve lost weight you know,” she said.
“Oh well done…are you late for slimming world?” I said, thinking I might speed up the conversation slightly.
“Oh no, this was 25 years ago. There were these men, workmen, doing stuff to the building at the time. Every week for twelve weeks they took the piss out of me, they didn’t know I was with me mother at the time, she told me what they said. Each week it was something different. One of ‘em said I looked like a stewed dumpling, the other said I had a face only a mother could love. You still got your mum?” she asked.
“Yes, I have,” I said, suddenly feeling very sorry for the eccentric old lady I had never seen before.
“Treasure ‘er. Those men whispered that I couldn’t lose the weight. Well, I’ve lost twelve stone.” Saliva had gathered like waves on either side of her mouth, helping her spit the last few words at my shoulder.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to spit at you. You off to McColls to do your shopping?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Be careful in there, they took £4.80 out of me bank account and in ‘Buy for Less’ they never give me a receipt, I keep asking ‘em but they never give me one, anyway better go,” she said, finally.
“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around, what was your name?” I asked, not sure if I really cared to know.
“Juliet, yeah yeah you will, what’s you and ya husband's name?” she asked, seeming genuinely keen to know.
“Elizabeth and Benjamin,” I said, delighted the conversation was finally over.
“Oh right, is he that builder fella I see working on the church scaffolding on the edge of the village?” she asked.
“Yes it is, anyway Juliet…sorry…look I must go. Nice talking to you.” I edged away slowly hoping she would get the hint, she did.
I quickened my pace towards the shop. Just as I was wondering how she knew who my husband was, I heard a voice bellowing behind me. As I turned to see, the bag lady had vanished but Joan, my neighbour, was running full pelt towards me in bare feet.
“Liz! Liz! Liz!” screamed Joan.
“What’s happened?” I shouted back. “Everything ok?”
“Come quick Liz, it’s Benjamin,” she said, stumbling over her breathless words.
“What about Benjamin?” I said, not understanding the urgency.
“He’s dying Liz, he’s dying, the bitch has poisoned him,” said Joan, as she collapsed on the floor in front of me.