Dot opens the door and sets her milk bottles out. She hears the people as they pile out of the pub. She sees a couple walking along together. She goes back in and locks the door. She puts on the kettle and takes out cocoa and scoops it into two cups. She pours in the milk and stirs. She turns and sees the recorder on the table.

Dot pulls the recorder to her and hits record.

Hello Jim, it’s me Dorothy. I’m sitting here in the kitchen just talking to you. You can’t see me but I’m here talking to you. I suppose I could be anywhere but I’m in the kitchen at the table. There are a ton of friendly voices and everybody’s done their bit and its just me left. So here I am.

I don’t think I’ve ever dreaded anything more and it’s bad enough talking to a machine without worrying about what you’re going to say. But here goes. Everybody is missing you and they are praying for ya. Well not everyone is praying. I think there are one or two that would burst into flames at the mention of Jesus. But they are thinking about you and wishing you well. I suppose that is very much the same thing. I am praying for you of course, as well as I can. I find it’s best when you’re praying is to quote back at Him, you know the things he’s said just to jog his memory a bit. I mean children are easy “Suffer little children” And then there is the meek “and them what hunger and thirst after righteousness. But that aint you is it Jim? So it’s difficult to know what to pray for for you. So I’ve just done the general bits about sinners. I know you know what I mean.

You’re not really a believer, are you really Jim? I know you only pretend you are because of me. I don’t think he worries to much about that. I mean he didn’t ask his centurion daughter to believe did he? Before he cured her. It was enough for her father to believe. This makes a change doesn’t it? Me sitting here talking about the bible and you not looking down your glasses telling me to give it a rest you’re giving me an earache. He’s only human. Hmph… only human. I’m stuck now. First time you can’t answer back and I don’t know what to say.

I ain’t good with me feelings. I don’t have to tell you that do I? I’ve always envied people who could share their emotions. Always know what to say without thinking too much. I suppose (Dot stirs the two cups and realizes she’s made one for Jim) it was the way they was brought up. I see it all the time in the laundrette. How mothers are different with their children. Some of them hold them and love them. And others only take notice when they have to and don’t really care that they are there. I hear them tell them what they are going to get when they get home. It ain’t hard to tell how they are going to turn out. I wish they’d understand that how you feel as a child is how you’re going to feel when you are grown up. I suppose that is why I find it hard to show my feelings. I never had that much love when I was a little girl except from my Auntie Gwen. I never had much as a woman either.

Charlie never told me that he loved me. Well not unless he needed something or to make amends. Money out the rent jar to put on the horses or to make amends when he came staggering home from the pub.

You told me though. I know you wanted me to say it back to you. Well I did. I do. I just find it difficult to say. I don’t know why. I think that is why I was friends with Ethel all that time. People couldn’t understand it because we was chalk and cheese. You see Ethel was a free spirit and I was all bottled up. She’d just come out and say whatever she wanted.

I remember the first time I saw her. I was in me front room and was peering over the window sill with her skirt hitched up and stocking tops showing wolf whistling at a lance corporal with bright red hair and a limp. She yelled out “show us your war wounds.” He went as red as his hair just like Bradley. Looked like a Swan Vestra. He fled and she fell out laughing. I saw her later in the Vic. I was sitting on the stairs outside waiting on me Mother. I caught a glimpse of her through the door with her legs spread on the piano showing next weeks washing singing out “Roll out the barrel” I stared at her. She didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

I had enough for both of us. If I ever got shot of one problem I went looking for more just so I’d have something to moan about. Well I had to moan, you see, to explain why I wasn’t happy. I loved Ethel. There that wasn’t so hard to say to say was it? Not if you say it quick.

Mind you, I didn’t approve of her morals and if she got up to half the things she said she did during the war it’s a wonder some of them soldiers had the strength to go back to the war and fight.I asked her why she did that. She said she loved the idea to send them back to the war with a smile on their face. And some of them wouldn’t come back. She wasn’t any better when she got older. I used to see her chatting up the gentlemen in the post office. I’d tell her she was a fibbitygibber. Brazen she was! I couldn’t tell you half the things she said, it would make you blush. If she had a pound for every smile she put on a face she’d have died a rich woman.

Doubt they’ll say the same about me. But then… I didn’t have much to smile about. I read this thing in the paper about if you rolled out a toilet roll it would be your whole life and nothing but the width of an hair at the very end. Shows you where we are, less than the width of an hair. And how do we spend that time. So I reckon Ethel had the right idea. Enjoy the time you’ve got as it’s over in the blink of an eye. No use worrying.

I hope you are alright. I can hear your voice now. “What you blathering about woman?” I suppose it’s because I’m on me on and I’ve got loads of time to think about things. It’s not the same with you not here. It’s the little things. Dirty clothes on the bedroom floor. Your razor and stuff in the bathroom sink. The smell of bacon. I feel cold. It’s chilly in here. I think I’ll go in the front room and warm me self up.

Dot turns on the fire and closes the door. She looks at their wedding photo. Do you realize Jim we’ll be married six years soon? Who’d believe it? But you’ve been a very good husband. And i dare say I haven’t been too easy a person to live with. I’ve got me ways. Good thing you came along when you did and restored my faith in men.

I remember when I came back from burying Pauline’s ashes. You lit the candles for me and put the record on. It was a lovely evening. And you held me so tight and I remember thinking I’m going to be alright. I remember thinking I don’t need anyone else but me husband. And I was happy. I know it’s not your fault. But that’s only a memory now and I’m on me own again. After awhile you come to accept it and you think that is how things are supposed to be and there is no use in fighting it.

Which of you by taking thought and can add one cubit to his stature? I remember hearing that as a little girl in Whales when I was coming home from chapel with Auntie Gwen. I asked her what it meant. She said it meant that what will be, will be. It’s funny how much easier it is if you don’t expect much out of life. Back then it was a kiss from Auntie Gwen or if it was sunny enough to go out in the field. Not like now with their ear pods and their pps or whatever they are. All I had was whatever could fit in my suitcase. The whole world was at war and I was the happiest I’d ever been.

I’d never had much love as a little girl. I was never told I was special or loved. I was just there. I never felt wanted. When I was on the train, being evacuated, all the other little children were crying for their mothers I was happy.

I’m going to have a cigarette Jim. I suppose I’ll be forced to give them up soon. Can’t smoke nowhere these days without catching pneumonia. You see Auntie Gwen was like them mothers you see in picture books. Sad to say I’d never seen anyone happy like that. Her and Uncle Will couldn’t have children. So I was like their little girl. I didn’t understand that I was only there for a short time. I felt like I had gotten a new mother. I wasn’t alone anymore an I was in a real family. I remember sitting in between them listening to the radio. I was right between them snug as a bug in a rug. I wasn’t in the way. They gave me toys and crayons to do me drawings. And they talked to me.

I remember a day, one perfect day. I woke up early and I could hear Uncle Will’s tractor in the field. The sun was coming up and it was bright and red, brighter than my mother’s lipstick. With wisps of clouds around it and birds were singing with no stops in between. The smells of warm bread backing. I remember thinking this is my home, it’s where I live. I was the happiest I’d ever been. I went down the stairs and Auntie Gwen was setting the table. There was warm bread, a boiled egg and a fresh pot of brown tea waiting. It wasn’t like at my home where my dad was touching me mum and making rude comments. It was special. Uncle Will came in and we sat eating our breakfast. Uncle Will laughing at me socks sticking out under me nightie. We was laughing at breakfast, just like in the books.

I remember the sun was so strong that day that I could hardly breath. I’d run in the fields I layed down and looked up the sky. I was happy. The sky was the bluest I’d ever see. On the way home I drank from a stream and it was so cold it hurt me head. It was the perfect day. At home Auntie Gwen washed me in the tin wash bin and sent me up to bed and I wondered if life was really like that. If everybody lived like this and I was just catching up. Because where I’d ever known was ugly. Smoky pubs men spitting in the street swearing. There I was laying in a fresh bed, and Uncle Will came to tuck me in. I thought I was in trouble and hid under the covers he said I looked like a frightened rabbit. And I was. But he tucked me in and I waited for him every night after. Would you like a song little pearl? Little pearl… that is what he called me. I could feel the grin as he kicked off his shoes and laid on me bed on top of the covers and sang to me. He sang Pretty Baby to me. “Everybody loves a baby. Thats why I’m in love with you, pretty baby, pretty baby.”

I know it’s silly remembering such a little thing. But when I look back I know from that moment on everything I’d ever cared about was lost. Uncle Will was killed in a car crash a month later. Auntie Gwen had to take care of the farm and I was sent back to London to her. And a new man and a new little brother, and sister Rose and I was in the way. I wasn’t Uncle Will’s little pearl or his pretty baby. I was’t wanted. I was back in the filth and drunkards. I’d run through the fields and drank from a stream. Back in this house where I wasn’t wanted. And I knew in that moment that life had taken away everything I’d ever cared about. Uncle Will, Auntie Gwen, Charlie, Nick and my best friend. And now it’s taken you and it’s not fair. It’s not fair. What did I ever do? What did that little girl ever do to live a life of losing and despair? She didn’t do nothing. She just wanted someone to love her, to care for her and to pin her drawings on the wall. . And out there there are little girls who have mums who tuck them in and make them feel wanted. And I’m still here on me own. And I have to go out that door and face the world. Everyone has got someone. The worst part is hearing them complaining and fighting amongst themselves. They don’t know what they’ve got or what I wouldn’t give. I pretend I don’t care that I’m better on me own. I sit in that laundrette watching the mothers with their children. I don’t know what’s more painful. Them that are loved or them that are ignored and shouted at. I know what they are thinking. That old battleaxe Why don’t you cheer up a bit. But they don’t understand I can’t be like Ethel. I’m frightened to show my emotions and afraid of letting them in because everytime I do I lose them And how do I explain that. So I leave them to it and let them poke fun at me. Making fun of me for quoting from the bible. And I want to tell them that is all I’ve got. If I didn’t believe that there was something to better to come what would my life be fore? It’s all I’ve got left. Hope for something better. Oh I’m so tired Jim.

And I’ve been all round the house. But what I want to tell you is they want to send you home. They want me to have you here. And they want me to cope and to be strong. And I ain’t got no strength left. I can’t. God forgive me but I can’t. You see I nursed Ethel and I watched her die in my arms. I buried my husband and me grandson and I doubt I’ll never see Nick again. But what I’m saying is I could cope with losing you because I never expected anything different. I know how to be on my own. But to have you here but not here. I don’t think I’ve got it in me. Not anymore. I’m better on me own where I’ve always been.

Dot clicks off the recorder. She gets up and turns the fire off. She takes her mug and walks out.

In the background Pretty Bab plays. Dot picks up Jim’s mug and puts both mugs in the sink. She takes her handbag and turns the lights off in the kitchen.