Moving On by Rosie Harris

left the promenade and made her way up Victoria Street she remembered her shopping needs. As she added bread, milk, meat from the butchers and some fresh vegetables from the greengrocers she found that her shopping bag was becoming rather heavy and it was quite a long walk back to Merseyside Mansions. She’d have to organize daily shopping trips or arrange for heavy items to be delivered, she decided.
    Since she wasn’t living all that far from Wallasey Village she wondered if it would be worth asking her previous suppliers if they would still be willing to deliver.
    That would mean waiting in for them to come, she reminded herself. When she’d been living in Warren Point the delivery men had known that they could always leave whatever they had brought just inside the porch and that it would be perfectly safe there. Could they leave deliveries in reception if she was out, she wondered. That was another thing she would have to find out.
    She wished Karen had been there to help her settle in. She would have found out the answers to all these questions for her.
    She decided to phone Karen as soon as she got home to see if she was back from her trip yet and invite her over. She must be curious to see what the flat was like and she was quite keen to show her around it even though that wouldn’t take very long.

Twelve
    It was three weeks before Jenny heard from Karen and then it was to say that she hoped she’d settled in to her new home at Merseyside Mansions but she was too busy at the moment to visit.
    Jenny felt disappointed but by then she felt quite settled and very much at home in her new surroundings. She had met a number of the residents at the Wednesday coffee mornings and could even remember most of their names and in some cases where they lived.
    They were certainly a very mixed bunch of people, she thought wryly. As far as she knew only four of the residents were still working and went out at regular hours each day. The rest were retired and filled in their time in a variety of ways.
    Some of them, like Clare and Peter Green, had a very regular routine. Clare was a very large lady and so severely incapacitated that she was unable to walk more than a few steps at a time. Even so she went out every morning at eleven thirty in a wheelchair with Peter pushing her.
    He was the exact opposite of his wife; small and weedy. It took every ounce of his strength to manoeuvre the wheelchair and his face was usually a bright red with exertion by the time they came back from their walk.
    Clare was extremely demanding. Jenny felt sorry for Peter. She saw the way he was constantly berated and belittled when he was obviously doing his utmost to please her.
    Clare always seemed to be particularly aggressive towards him at Wednesday coffee mornings. Peter would leave her wheelchair in a convenient alcove and then help her out of it. She would lean heavily on him as she took the few steps necessary to reach the nearest chair.
    On the second Wednesday she’d been there Jenny had rushed to help and offered her chair to Clare because it was the nearest one but Clare had waved her hand dismissively.
    ‘He’s quite capable and he’ll be the one who decides which chair I am to sit in,’ she stated imperiously.
    Jenny felt her colour rising and quickly returned to her own chair as she saw several people trying to hide amused smiles.
    ‘Take no notice, she’s always like that. We put her rudeness down to her not feeling very well,’ Sandra Roberts whispered.
    Jenny nodded but made a mental note that in future she would avoid Clare Green as much as possible.
    It was not difficult to do so; Jenny found that there were many other residents who were extremely friendly. Several times she was invited to go shopping in Liverpool or for a walk along the promenade with one or other of the ladies.
    Some of the men were attentive but Jenny was guarded. She knew from various conversations that some of the other women hoped for an invitation to