Esther and Jessie had their first real conversation one wet January morning when Esther slipped and fell. Jess was on her way out and came to her neighbour’s assistance.
“Are you all right, luv?” She leaned over and, despite her diminutive frame, managed to manoeuvre Esther into a position where she could sit her upright. She knew nothing about her neighbour except that she drove a battered red Toyota which was parked outside. The two women had lived opposite each other on the Manor Hill council estate for three years. They lived in one of the eight cottage style red-roofed buildings. The units were neatly arranged around a wide rectangular green. Their unit, euphemistically named Halcyon House, would have been the perfect place to live were it not for the fact that London’s main peripheral motorway, the North Circular, lay less than a hundred yards away behind a row of hedges.
“I’ve told the council that they need to do something about this step. This sort of tumble won’t do my arthritis much good.”
“Oh dear. Do you want me to call for help?”
“No, I’ll be all right, Mrs. Courtney. Just need to catch me breath.” Esther ran her hand along her left leg. “I got a bit of a shock. I don’t think I’ve broken or even sprained anything.”
Jess extended her hand. “Take my arm luv. Slowly now,” she coaxed. She managed to help Esther up by placing her arms under her shoulders.
“My goodness me. You managed that like a real pro, Mrs. Courtney.”
“Well, I...
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