This continues the trilogy of a joint writing with my darling wife Pixiehoff
( part 1 was published a few days ago under her name )
As June lay back in the deep, warm suds of the bath, she could feel the dirt lifting from her skin. Relaxing in the unaccustomed luxury, her mind travelled over the events of the last couple of hours. Would she wake up and find this was all a dream? As she luxuriated in the warmth, she thought back. Usually, at this time, she would be tramping the streets.
June walked along many streets in many towns of Northern England. She was known to many, from traffic wardens to road sweepers, shop keepers to bin men. One could have thought, albeit incorrectly, that she was a pillar of the community, but alas, far from it, June was homeless and destitute.
She pushed a supermarket trolly with all her belongings in it, sleeping wherever there was shelter and feeding on whatever anyone was generous to give her.
The one true nature of June though was that she was honest, never having stolen even an apple. She always smiled even in mid-winter - that was her nature.
June was made an orphan at the age of fourteen, her parents, from a poor background, and her only family, died in a car crash. Moving from one disastrous orphanage to another she eventually began to live a nomadic lifestyle. But her smile remained, never blaming anyone, just accepting the way things were. Things were hard though.
One autumnal day, the rain was lashing down, her multilayers of clothing soaked. She walked past a local church hall, not having been there before, she noticed a soup kitchen round the back, this for her, was like going out for dinner in a high-class restaurant to most people.
Gingerly, not being at all religious, she opened the door. A very petite woman greeted her.
"Can I help?" She asked June.
She seemed nice. June, ever trying to be cheerful, responded:
"Only if you're a magician," she laughed.
"I'm a wizard with soup, if that helps?"
That made June smile. What was nice was that the woman was treating her as though she was not down-and-out. People usually judged her by how she looked. It was not June's fault. Keeping clean and neat was not easy, or indeed, possible given her circumstances.
"Now you mention it, I could do with something to eat."
"Well, you are in the right place. I am Pixie by the way, come and take a seat, I'll get you something hot too."
"Is that cos you're small?" The girl asked.
"You noticed?" Pixie smiled, hoping to bring a smile to the girl's face. She succeeded.
Smiling, the girl replied:
"Hard not to really. I'm June. You don't look like you wait on tables much."
Pixie smiled back.
"Here, I do my best. Let me get you your first course, we are not too busy at the moment. Soup?"
"That would be nice, thank you."
June's manners were always impeccable. She took her soup and sat in the corner sipping away as it warmed her stomach.
"Would you like some more soup," Pixie asked, "we have some to spare."
"Oh yes please. Let me get it, you are getting busy."
June stood up, walked towards the counter, only to trip and fall head first into the table, soup and bread going everywhere. Although June was unhurt, her clothes were covered in soup. Some older guys at the back laughed but Pixie seemed concerned and came over to her and, picking her up, dusted her down, checking she was not hurt.
"Oh my dear are you alright?Β Just look at you covered In everything. Let me help. Please let me take you to my home for a warm bath and I'll put those clothes in the wash. I only live just round the corner."
"No, no, I'll be fine, but thank you."
June did not want to be a bother, but to her surprise, Pixie seemed firm.
"I won't hear of it June. You can't go out like this. Let's get you cleaned up."
There was a firmness about the woman's manner, one June was not accustomed to; bossy but caring at the same time. So she agreed, and thanked her. Pixie told the other helpers that she needed to go early, and then went to June.
Walking together, with Pixie pushing June's trolly, causing many a look from people in the streets, they went back to her house. Pixie was so kind that June gradually relaxed.
Round the corner there was a large house at the end of the street: "The Old Manor."
June's eyes lit up:
"Wow you live here!Β I'll go round the back."
"You most certainly will not June," said Pixie as she opened the front door and led her inside.