You may remember, when we first came to look at The Sidings at the end of March last year, that our concentration on the house was somewhat offset by our concern that the lady showing us around should keep breathing until after we had left or until her son had arrived, preferably both! Fortunately, she did keep breathing, accepted our offer on the house, signed it over to us, moved into a bungalow around the corner and began recreating her “fairy” garden in the little courtyard at the front of her unit. I saw her from time to time over the summer, lying on a sun lounger being attended to by elderly ladies from around the village. More latterly, she hasn’t been outside so much, it being a tad on the chilly side for frail, sickly people to be lounging outside. But I did catch glances of her and there was clearly life happening inside the unit.
Over the past week or so, there was no sign of life. Not that I was stalking her, you understand, but her unit is virtually opposite the gate onto the allotment site. It seemed unlikely that she had gone on holiday. I’m not sure what was wrong with her but guessed at lung cancer or emphysema or perhaps both. Whatever it was, it required the presence of large oxygen machines. I assumed she had gone into hospital.
And so she had. Debbie Next Door called by last evening to tell us that she had gone into hospital Friday last, had been subsequently stricken with pneumonia and had died on Wednesday evening. Pity. She didn’t even make it to a twelve month in the new unit. And it seems a real shame, given the effort she had put into her courtyard, not to have seen it through a full run of seasons.
Still. Given that I was convinced she was likely to drop off her perch the very first time we met her, I guess she didn’t do too badly.
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