Come To Our Friendly Girls' Evening
Oh won’t you come to our Friendly Girls’ Evenings. The regular crew are ever so nice.
There’s Molly with the auburn hair who lives out by the vicarage. Molly with the pretty frocks and the apple cheeks and those blue eyes red from constant sobbing and the slightest tremor in her wrists. You must have seen her by the bus stop. You can find her there most afternoons. She’s waiting for her fella. He hasn’t written in over a year. She often takes her knitting with her. She’s still working on that blue pullover. Now, don’t get us wrong. Molly isn’t lazy or incompetent. Molly’s actually a champion knitter. You should see the cardie she made for Bee’s youngest. Sure, it took first place at the village fete. She’s a wonder at the darning too. No, Molly’s just making that pullover last. She’ll knit a few rows then deftly unpick them, then start back in where her needles left off. She knows when she gets to the hem and knits the final navy blue stitch, they’ll be nobody to wear it. Molly knows her fella’s not coming back.
Never mind, Molly. Have you met Susan? Susan’s a darling. You’ve probably passed her in the street. She’s the one in the overalls and the filthy wellington boots. Susan’s not bothered about her appearance. She’s always got soil jammed under her nails. Susan’s never out of that allotment; up to her oxters in muck and weeds. What does she grow? Oh, all the usuals: marrows, potatoes, carrots, beets. And a drill or two of bits and bobs her fella left when he went to the Front. His boots. His books. His drawing pencils. Every stitch of clothes he had. His watch. His toothbrush. His front door key. There’s not a trace of him left in their wee house. Susan must know he’s not coming back. What does she think she’s doing, burying every last trace of her fella? Maybe she hopes some version of him will sprout from the seed of his best belongings. Maybe she’s trying to give him the funeral she knows he’s never going to have.
Forget Susan. It’s Marjorie you need to meet. Marjorie’s a sensible girl. She’s what we like to call, a brick. Marjorie takes good care of herself. She’s trim and fit; dear goodness you should see the waist on her. She’s no bigger at twenty three than she was when she joined our Girl Guide troop. Marjorie counts her calories and follows the Women’s League of Health and Beauty and goes early to bed most every night. Marjorie believes in a good night’s sleep. Marjorie also likes to nap through the day. In truth, Marjorie’s been in hibernation since September a year ago. She sleeps for twenty hours a day and only rises to eat and wash and do her keep fit manoeuvres in the living room with the curtains pulled. She says she’s keeping in shape for her fella. She says he likes a girlish figure. She says she wants to be ready for him. Sometimes if you catch Marjorie in those fragile moments when she’s just waking out of her one of her naps, she’ll tell you that she dreams of him. It’s easier, she’ll admit, when she’s fast asleep. Then she gets to be with her fella. Then she can pretend he’s coming back.
Oh won’t you come to our Friendly Girls’ Evening. We always have such a jolly time. We talk and giggle and tell such stories and only weep for the final hour. We won’t even hold your fella against you. It’s such a blessing that he came back. Oh yes Dear, we’ll be happy for you once you’re finally one of us. You must be a doll and refuse to listen to those ugly rumours. We can assure you, they’re simply not true. Those dreadful gossips in the WI are jealous -just terribly jealous- because they’re too old for the Friendly Girls. We were friendly to that last girl. We were kind. We welcomed her in. We certainly didn’t approach her husband. The very thought of it. To hear her talk you’d think we were desperate. You’d think that any old man would do. We’re not ready to forget our fellas. We still like to think they might come back. Besides, we have each other. We share our joys and share our heartache. We share everything in the Friendly Girls.
Inspired by Agatha Christie’s 1926 novel, “The Murder of Roger Ackroyd”
Dropped in the Irish Embassy, Berlin, Germany on Friday 31st January 2020
#MyYearWithAgathaC